Even though we live in a relatively free world and women’s independence is increasingly celebrated, too often we still go along with the crowd at times when it doesn’t serve us and, more importantly, when we don’t have to.
Participation is optional.
Today I invite you to opt out.
Opt out of being weighed at the doctor’s office. Did you know it’s optional? You can simply say “I pass” and if they pressure you, and you don’t feel you have a choice, you can step on the scale backwards and say “I don’t want to know the number, it’s not useful to me.”
Opt out of allowing your child to have their BMI measured at school. Seriously. Let’s stop this early weight stigmatization and use of this most meaningless measurement.
Opt of out the pervasive “I’m so bad, I ate a piece of bread” conversations. If the people around you are gib gabbing about their latest diet, weight loss success or failure you can: change the topic, explain that you don’t partake in ‘diet culture’, or even say “You know how some people don’t talk about religion or politics because it causes conflict, well, I don’t talk dieting.” And leave it at that. You do not have to participate in or respond to every conversation you’re invited to.
Opt out of “Operation Get Bikini Body Ready”. You already have a bikini body, whether you want to wear one or not. This summer is not something to dread. The beach is not something to starve or slave for. Opt out.
Opt out of the hysteria over eating clean and of the diet fad (aka “lifestyle change”) of the moment. Just because “all the cool kinds are doing it” doesn’t mean it’s good for you (or them) and you have every right to opt out without any guilt.
Opt out of any yoga or exercise class that doesn’t feel welcoming to you and your body. As a wise friend of mine once said about bad yoga classes: “Treat them like a bad movie and walk out.” On that note, opt out of the “free” body fat scan that comes with your new gym membership. When it comes to movement, you and your body deserve to feel welcomed, accepted, and met. Anything less is a great opportunity to opt out.
Opt out of seeing any medical practitioner who brings weight stigma into their practice. Increasingly you have choice in this country and more and more there are medical professionals who understand the harm of weight-stigma and scientific validity of the Health at Every Size paradigm. Don’t like your doctor? Afraid to go see them because of the weight shaming comments they’ve made? Opt out.
Opt out of television shows (I’m looking at you Biggest Loser), magazines (I’m looking at you Shape Magazine), and other media that leave you feeling less than. Turn them off, unsubscribe, and go enjoy entertainment that respect you and everyone.
Bottom line: you’re free. You can say “No” and “No Thank You” and “No Fucking Way.”
Even if you feel like the odd one out, no one ever regrets doing what feels right and true to them.
Participation is truly optional.
For the past few years I’ve been unraveling my motherhood knot—the jumble of questions, fears, desires, and beliefs I have about having a child.
As you can imagine (or perhaps relate) this tangle has many layers but one in particular, while perhaps obvious, surprised me.
Or, as I’ve come to think of it: Perfection Coins.
Perfection Coins are what we amass the more in control and ‘perfect’ our life is. If our life somehow reflects a greater percentage of our personal preferences, with minimal compromise or vulnerability we are very rich in Perfection Coins.
When we want something that requires risk, or change, or giving up control we have to trade in our Perfection Coins.
And why would anyone trade them in?
Because the payoff is often living a life in greater alignment with yourself, deeper intimacy with other people, more meaning, and more happiness.
When we become a mother we have to trade in a lot of our Perfection Coins. For some women the cost is too high. For some women, the giving up of control, of order, of predictability is not worth it.
And yet most mothers would tell you that what they trade in Perfection Coins (sleep, a clean house, clothes without stains, etc.) is paid back ten times over in love, connection, and intangible magic.
And as I began to think about this in the context of motherhood it struck me that the same is true about the choice I made to give up my eating disorder and become a body-accepting intuitive eater. I traded in compliments from strangers who idealized by anorexic body, an ego high from eating ‘clean’, and so much more. Tons of Perfection Coins given away and in return I’ve received freedom, sanity, well being, joy, ease and pleasure.
Had I known ahead of time things would work out, I wouldn’t have hesitated. But we can’t know.
When we make the trade it’s done on faith.
It’s always a bet taken because something else becomes more valuable than Perfection Coins.
With each run of Feast my students arrive at this crossroads too. Which would they rather have:
Thighs that don’t touch or sanity around food?
The (false) sense of order delivered by a diet or feeling good in their own skin?
The approval of judgemental family members or freedom to take up space?
Being numb to life’s pain (but also numb to joy) or feeling joy, and all the other emotions too?
We can’t have both. We can’t hold life white-knuckled, gripping to the safety of what we know and also receive the good stuff.
There are simply times when we have to make a choice, or rather, we get to make a choice.
Times when we choose to stay in or leave the relationship. Times when we choose to quit or take the job. Times when we choose to tell the truth or bite our tongue.
Increasingly I choose to trade in my Perfection Coins for the messy, unknown, not-in-my-control, but deeply connected, vibrant life that calls to me.
And truthfully, at the end of life I imagine that Perfection Coins aren’t worth very much.
Oh, you want to know what I’ve decided about motherhood?
But for the first time in my adult life I do know that my decision won’t be based on a need for life to be so tightly ordered.