Ever since I was a teenager, I have battled issues with my body. The pressure to be thin in my home country is obnoxious. The culture itself is very politically incorrect, to say the least. Strangers won't hesitate to tell you whether they think you're fat or old or too thin. To me and many others, this is rude. But there, it is not mean spirited or out of the ordinary. People there are used to this and don't see anything wrong with saying what they think.
Growing up in a culture like this, you compete for everything; status and social acceptance comes from the way you look and what the culture itself deems worthy...except what Peruvians deem worthy is quite far fetched. Friends in the US and North America say all the time that advertising has influenced the skewed views women have of their bodies. If this is true here in the States, it is worse in Peru. Women are not just trying to fit the skinny body stereotype seen in fashion and advertising there but worse, that of race. They present blonde, nordic-looking models or just white personalities to a country that has a majority of native american descent. I believe that this, sadly, is not a phenomenon in one country, but many others which have a large mixed race population. Living all your life in this kind of culture is a bit sickening. You don't realize it when you live it day to day, once you're out, you see how wrong it is.
I have battled eating disorders from a young age. When I was younger, I starved to the point of being seriously ill (and nearly dying), weighing 92 lbs at 5'2" when I was 18. Now, there are girls my height to which this weight is normal; but my genetic makeup makes me lean to the more bulkier side. My ideal weight, the one I have always felt great in, is 115-125 lbs. After I moved to the US, I felt relieved from the society I was living in and dealt with my internal body image issues quite well.
Over 8 years, I was at a healthy weight and thought I had overcome those issues. I have always been active, studied nutrition (since it was a way for me to cope with these disorders and in the past I had felt the need to know about everything and anything I put in my body, quite obsessively I may add) overall, tried to maintain a healthy lifestyle.
But I realize these never quite just "went away". EDs do not just go away, they stay there, dormant and poking their ugly heads out every once in a while. The feelings of insecurity and shame and the obsessions remain there. I learned to live around it, every day I struggle with some unhealthy thoughts. But I have reached a point where I worked through these and learned to manage these feelings. I am proud of this.
Now, 2 years ago my life changed drastically. It wasn't easy. Actually it was one of the hardest life changes I have made so far. Even harder than leaving my country. I moved across the US to a place I didn't know, where I didn't know anyone but one person. The job prospect I had secured before moving fell through just a couple of weeks after I moved to Cincinnati. Of course, I had savings. And a degree, experience, a career and a good (no, great!) resume and portfolio. Or so I thought. Nay. Things were so difficult the first year here career-wise. Worst of all, people seemed to be really closed to non-locals and hardly had any acquaintances, never mind friends. I lacked a support network, my friends in Texas have been my family for so many years, but they were far from me. I was alone and re-building my life once again. Sounds as if this last time around, at 28, would had been way easier. When I moved to the US, I was 19 and had nothing. Left everything I knew, left my whole life, my family, my friends and my medical studies to pursue a dream and get away from an environment that was literally killing me, the illness I had endured was at the last stage and it was only by luck that someone realized I was that sick and notified my parents. But I made it. I left my home and then here, I tried making a new life. I fought for anything I got, aced my way through college; gave my 150% to anything I ever did. I moved around the US a few times. But this last time around, for some reason, felt much worse.
Depression set in. No matter how healthy I thought I was, getting older combined with depression equaled a weight change that while some may not have seen as significant or huge; got these old enemies of my psyche to resurface. The past 2 years have been a struggle to try to get back to those 125 lbs I was before I moved to Cincinnati. I have gained 20 lbs in 3 years. This extra weight has not been due to horrible habits, which makes the feeling even worse. It is the feeling that things are out of your control, that you don't have a grip on your own body and your own life. Slowly and quietly, I have been winning small battles. But the road seems long.
Last year, I had a burst appendix that put me in the hospital for nearly 3 weeks and then treatment that lasted for 8, plus surgery and recovery time after that. Obviously I could not ride my bike to the point I had finally reached at the beginning of the summer. I am back to having to build up my initial strength. Another setback. This too shall pass, as they say. I didn't make any resolutions for the New Year, just keep on keepin' on.
There are days when I get up and feel so ugly and gross. Then, I look back and know I can make it despite those feelings. I can only try, in any case. I went from being grossly underweight during my young adulthood to normal to fat. In each stage, those ideas were the same. Even when I was skinny, I thought myself inadequate. Now that I'm the opposite, it is the same.
Thank you for reading my ramblings. If you have ever struggled with body issues and depression, you know how ruthless it can be. My only resolution is to keep going and trying to do what I need to do to manage this. Recognizing one has these issues do not mean one gives up, it only means that you know your enemy enough that you can live without letting it run your life.
Growing up in a culture like this, you compete for everything; status and social acceptance comes from the way you look and what the culture itself deems worthy...except what Peruvians deem worthy is quite far fetched. Friends in the US and North America say all the time that advertising has influenced the skewed views women have of their bodies. If this is true here in the States, it is worse in Peru. Women are not just trying to fit the skinny body stereotype seen in fashion and advertising there but worse, that of race. They present blonde, nordic-looking models or just white personalities to a country that has a majority of native american descent. I believe that this, sadly, is not a phenomenon in one country, but many others which have a large mixed race population. Living all your life in this kind of culture is a bit sickening. You don't realize it when you live it day to day, once you're out, you see how wrong it is.
I have battled eating disorders from a young age. When I was younger, I starved to the point of being seriously ill (and nearly dying), weighing 92 lbs at 5'2" when I was 18. Now, there are girls my height to which this weight is normal; but my genetic makeup makes me lean to the more bulkier side. My ideal weight, the one I have always felt great in, is 115-125 lbs. After I moved to the US, I felt relieved from the society I was living in and dealt with my internal body image issues quite well.
Over 8 years, I was at a healthy weight and thought I had overcome those issues. I have always been active, studied nutrition (since it was a way for me to cope with these disorders and in the past I had felt the need to know about everything and anything I put in my body, quite obsessively I may add) overall, tried to maintain a healthy lifestyle.
But I realize these never quite just "went away". EDs do not just go away, they stay there, dormant and poking their ugly heads out every once in a while. The feelings of insecurity and shame and the obsessions remain there. I learned to live around it, every day I struggle with some unhealthy thoughts. But I have reached a point where I worked through these and learned to manage these feelings. I am proud of this.
Now, 2 years ago my life changed drastically. It wasn't easy. Actually it was one of the hardest life changes I have made so far. Even harder than leaving my country. I moved across the US to a place I didn't know, where I didn't know anyone but one person. The job prospect I had secured before moving fell through just a couple of weeks after I moved to Cincinnati. Of course, I had savings. And a degree, experience, a career and a good (no, great!) resume and portfolio. Or so I thought. Nay. Things were so difficult the first year here career-wise. Worst of all, people seemed to be really closed to non-locals and hardly had any acquaintances, never mind friends. I lacked a support network, my friends in Texas have been my family for so many years, but they were far from me. I was alone and re-building my life once again. Sounds as if this last time around, at 28, would had been way easier. When I moved to the US, I was 19 and had nothing. Left everything I knew, left my whole life, my family, my friends and my medical studies to pursue a dream and get away from an environment that was literally killing me, the illness I had endured was at the last stage and it was only by luck that someone realized I was that sick and notified my parents. But I made it. I left my home and then here, I tried making a new life. I fought for anything I got, aced my way through college; gave my 150% to anything I ever did. I moved around the US a few times. But this last time around, for some reason, felt much worse.
Depression set in. No matter how healthy I thought I was, getting older combined with depression equaled a weight change that while some may not have seen as significant or huge; got these old enemies of my psyche to resurface. The past 2 years have been a struggle to try to get back to those 125 lbs I was before I moved to Cincinnati. I have gained 20 lbs in 3 years. This extra weight has not been due to horrible habits, which makes the feeling even worse. It is the feeling that things are out of your control, that you don't have a grip on your own body and your own life. Slowly and quietly, I have been winning small battles. But the road seems long.
Last year, I had a burst appendix that put me in the hospital for nearly 3 weeks and then treatment that lasted for 8, plus surgery and recovery time after that. Obviously I could not ride my bike to the point I had finally reached at the beginning of the summer. I am back to having to build up my initial strength. Another setback. This too shall pass, as they say. I didn't make any resolutions for the New Year, just keep on keepin' on.
There are days when I get up and feel so ugly and gross. Then, I look back and know I can make it despite those feelings. I can only try, in any case. I went from being grossly underweight during my young adulthood to normal to fat. In each stage, those ideas were the same. Even when I was skinny, I thought myself inadequate. Now that I'm the opposite, it is the same.
Thank you for reading my ramblings. If you have ever struggled with body issues and depression, you know how ruthless it can be. My only resolution is to keep going and trying to do what I need to do to manage this. Recognizing one has these issues do not mean one gives up, it only means that you know your enemy enough that you can live without letting it run your life.
