When things are going well, I don't care whether I'm wearing my size 4 skirt or my size 12 pants (both of which I wear regardless of what weight I'm at and I fit into that range of sizes at various times throughout the month). When I'm not hating my job, I'm not hating my belly. When Aaron and I aren't fighting about who is more responsible for the laundry, I'm not fighting with my thighs about what their girth should be.
When things start sucking, I take it out on my body. When my superiors are taking advantage of me, sending me on personal errands that I can't refuse to do or asking me to do things that are beyond my scope of responsibilities, I go home and stare at myself in the mirror and contemplate throwing up everything I've just eaten. When it seems like the only thing Aaron does is put the laundry in the washer and dryer and I'm expected to do everything else, I'm viciously concocting a new workout regime that I will never start.
Why is it that I associate my life problems with my problems with my body, which aren't really problems at all? Was I taught to do that? It doesn't come naturally. I've never had an eating disorder -- is it just a girl thing regardless? I know it has to do with the fact that I can't control everything, but I can control what I do with my body. I really wish I could just deal with things instead of hating myself for being a normal-looking human being.