Being Fat, Losing Weight, and Feeling Really Confused About the Emotional Consequences
Here’s the thing about losing weight. We’re always sold that a thinner body will make us happier. If only I could look like…. But the strange thing is, before I started my weight loss “journey,” I’m pretty sure I was the happiest with myself that I remember being, maybe, ever. Now, 40lbs lighter, I find myself in unexplored emotional territory. Am I happy now?
6 months ago I was 253lbs, a size 16-18, and only moderately mean to myself. Sure, I always wanted to be thinner, but I had stopped actively telling myself that there was something wrong with me. I made peace with the fact that Le Château just wasn’t a store I could shop in. It was okay. Turned out Land’s End was. I stopped thinking about my appearance so much. When I did that, it was just … easier. It was okay to be me. I didn’t need to punish myself. But then, after two fairly traumatic wardrobe malfunctions and the fear of being the “fat bridesmaid” in my cousin’s wedding pictures, I started actively trying to lose weight.
The Backstory
I’ve always been a dieter. Going way back to when I was 12 years old, I was a dieter. I was not good at exercise and I was really uncoordinated. I was taller than the other girls – and often the other boys – growing up which always made me feel different. Awkward. So I guess I got caught up in feeling different, which usually meant that I ostracized myself further. I played up the role as the bigger girl. I looked older so I had to act older. And tough. I assumed the role as the sidekick, never the girl that people would pay attention to, but as the seemingly confident friend who acted like nothing scared me.
I was always really mean to myself. When I look back at pictures from high school, I wonder why I thought I was so bad. I was 70lbs lighter – which empirically must mean that I was better – but I never thought I was okay. I guess I was still 50lbs heavier and a foot taller than the other girls my age so I didn’t fit. I truly hated myself for a long time. But I put in a lot of emotional work after high school. It took a long time – years – and though it wasn’t done, I got to a good place.
I still dabbled in dieting. A few years ago, I put myself on a salad and protein diet before a trip to Vegas in an effort to avoid feeling awful in a bathing suit. I wanted to enjoy myself on the trip and not get hung up on what I perceived to be what Vegas would look like. I lost about 10lbs and decided that I was okay. I went. I bought pretty dresses. I existed in public in a bathing suit, no one publically shamed me and I didn’t burst into fat flames. It was good.
I survived not because of those 10lbs I lost, but because of all the years I spent teaching myself to like me just a little bit better. The 10lbs helped – my bathing suit actually fit better and the small loss gave me the confidence to go forth because I felt like I had accomplished something – but it wasn’t the real victory.
So, what changed?
I decided that I needed to lose weight because my clothes really weren’t fitting – I point you back to the aforementioned wardrobe malfunctions – and I didn’t feel very good about it. I lived my life in yoga pants so it crept up on me, but by summer I only had one dress that I felt comfortable wearing – a coral sun-dress that I hated – and that was getting old fast. I just wanted my clothes to fit again. But I wasn’t really sure how to make that happen.
I joined Weight Watchers in the summer. It’s been incredibly successful – assuming you’re judging success by pounds lost. I’ve lost 40lbs (well, I had before the week that was Christmas 2011) and I feel quite good about it. I feel proud of myself for doing what I’m supposed to do and getting the results I wanted. I feel generally better because I’m eating healthy food every day. Clothes that I haven’t worn in years fit again. Jeans. I’m wearing stretch-less jeans! I forgot how much I like jeans because it was so much more comfortable to just wear yoga pants all the time. The dress I fought so hard to make fit for my brother’s wedding is loose on me. I spend mental energy thinking about myself instead of all the things I’m stressed about. It’s generally really great.
So, What’s the problem?
I feel a bit crappy about the whole thing.
It really hit me at Christmas when at least six family members greeted me by commenting on how much weight I’d lost and how good I looked. They were shocked. SHOCKED I tell you! It was like I’d cured cancer, or saved puppies, or done something else truly amazing. It was as if I had become a better person.
I’ve probably acted this way with people who have lost weight before too. It’s ingrained. We all know that thin is healthier, more attractive, and all around better, right? And I don’t mean to begrudge my family so much – a) I know they all really meant well and were trying to compliment me and b) A big change is a logical jumping off point with a person you don’t see very often. But it made me feel self-conscious and a bit defensive. Am I more valuable now? What if I gain the weight back? What will they think of me then? Will they like me less? Will they think that I’m a failure? What did I look like before? I must have looked AWFUL for them to make THIS big of a deal about my loss. If they think it was so hard to lose weight, do they think I just wasn’t trying hard enough before? Why aren’t they scrutinizing anyone else’s body?!
What’s more, I’ve really come around to the fat acceptance movement as of late. I believe that people really do come in all different sizes and we’re not meant to be the same. I believe that fat and unhealthy are not necessarily the same thing – after all, I’ve never been unhealthy. I started losing weight out of vanity. That’s been my only motivation for my entire life. I just wanted to be thinner. So by getting all this praise, and by accepting it as something good, I felt like I was betraying my newfound principles. I was buying in to the same old crap that surrounds us. Fat=bad/lazy/gross and thin=great/healthy/smart/responsible. Thin=YouAreABetterPerson
By actively pursuing weight loss, wasn’t I saying being fat isn’t okay? Well, yes. I guess. But only for me! It’s a mess of contradictions, I get that. But it’s my body, so that’s sort of my prerogative.
I wanted to keep pointing out size-ism when I saw it. I wanted to keep speaking up when people conflated health with appearance. I wanted to continue being pissed off at movies and people making fat jokes. I just didn’t want to be quite as fat anymore. But I was pretty sure I’d still be sort of fat. I’m tall. And broad shouldered. I’ll never be small.
My original weight loss goal was moderate(ish). I wanted to get back down to the weight I was when I met Ryan. I don’t actually know what that weight was (I was training for a 10k run at the time so I was probably in the best shape I’ve ever been fitness-wise) but I wanted to wear the outfit I wore for our 4th date – my favourite of all the early dates. I wore jeans (the ones I’m wearing right this minute, as a matter of fact) and a teal blouse with adorable cap sleeves and a cute little belt. I loved that outfit. I felt sexy as hell in that outfit. And I had a fantastic evening in that outfit. I was chasing those feelings.
I wasn’t thin by any stretch of the imagination on that date. I was probably still a size 12, but I was rocking that size 12. Setting this as my goal seemed like it would be not only good for my psyche – years of dreaming of looking like the other girls always caused me so much pain – but also attainable.
So I started Weight Watchers and I loved it immediately. It’s a system that’s really well suited to my personality. It’s concrete. It’s a numbers game. Did I mention that I love it? If you’re interested, I’d be happy to tell you about it someday if you ever ask. I love to talk about the program because it works. The program. That’s a very different thing than talking about me. It’s very different about talking about how much I weigh or how my body fits in my clothes. Because it’s my body. It’s not up for discussion and dissection when everyone feels like it. I get to own that conversation. It’s not small talk to fill a silence. It’s me, and there’s a lot of complexity that goes with that. It’s not yours. It’s mine.
So I guess that’s half of what my stress is about. The other half is much more familiar.
On New Year’s eve, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and those old feelings came back. Why is my arm so fat? Does this dress fit okay? Are people looking at me? Despite achieving the goals I’d set out for myself, I seemed to be spending even more time nitpicking. Here I am, upset about other people scrutinizing me, and yet I’m doing it to myself. What gives?
What’s the solution?
Part one is: Don’t talk about other people’s bodies unless you’re invited to do so.
Part two, and this one is for me, is to take some of the focus off losing the weight. Am I quitting WW and breaking out the sweat pants? No. I really do enjoy how things are going. I have a new dress in my closet I look forward to wearing. I have set new goals and I look forward to achieving them. But I need to stop looking at being lighter as being better. That’s not an easy task. I’m a goal oriented person and I really like to win at things.
But history has shown that I’m not happier just by being thinner. I need to put some serious work into self-acceptance again. It’s one thing to accept myself as fat and put up a wall to any criticism. It’s another thing to truly understand that my value as a person isn’t actually related to my appearance. I thought I was at that point before, but clearly that’s not the case. I need to really learn to like myself at whatever weight I am at that moment – whether I’m 100lbs or 300lbs.
I don’t actually know how to do this yet. There may be another 2000 words in my future devoted to tearing this issue apart into little pieces, and then tearing those pieces into even more pieces of excessive analysis. If you last that long, let this be my apology to you in advance. You won’t get those fifteen minutes of your life back either.
Your Joke’s Not Funny
CBC’s Q hosted a discussion of sorts on the reaction to “rape joke” Facebook pages. The pages — with real people who “like” them and everything — have charming names like “You know shes (sic) playing hard to get when your (sic) chasing her down an alleyway” (194,000 “likes”) and “Riding your Girlfriend softly, Cause you dont (sic) want to wake her up” (87,000 “likes).
First problem, rape jokes are never ok. Second problem, why can’t people who mock sexual violence spell and punctuate properly?
Why aren’t rape jokes funny, you say? (You being the person who is not reading this post because my readers are better than that.)
1) Rape jokes are implicitly condoning rape.
Really, what else could it be? They offer excuses for men who rape, they shame women who get raped and they minimize the damage rape does to women and society. Rape jokes perpetuate a rape culture in which we blame victims/survivors for violence done to them.
Every time you laugh at a rape joke, you make it ok for someone to make a rape joke. If it’s ok for someone to make a rape joke, it’s ok for everyone to make a rape joke. By doing this, you normalize rape – and not normal like “rape is an every day tool of war and oppression around the world and that fact is so horrific that we must stop it” but normalize in the “rape is funny. Ha ha. It’s no big deal because I’m not a rapist and anyone who gets raped obviously deserved it because only bad people rape/get raped.”
2) But they’re just jokes, Lizz! You know we don’t mean it!
You might say this because you are not a rapist. Good for you. Maybe your best friends aren’t rapists. Fantastic! But what if someone listening is a rapist? By making those jokes, you’re telling him “hey, it’s cool. Go ahead and hurt women. It’s funny. See, we’re laughing.” And that rapist is thinking “these people have totally got my back.”
3) The content of rape jokes blurs the lines in some people’s minds about what rape is.
30 Rock made rape jokes last season. The shot flashed to Pete having sex with his wife while she was asleep. It was meant to get a laugh. Last year during the Julian Assange assault allegations, Naomi Wolf (yeah, THE Naomi Wolf) went on national television and claimed that penetrating a woman while she was asleep was not rape. So maybe a woman is raped in her sleep or when she’s passed out. But maybe she’s afraid to call it rape because she’s surrounded by jokes, TV shows, and feminists who tell her that it wasn’t such a big deal. Or maybe she does report it, but law enforcement doesn’t take her seriously because they don’t believe that it was “real rape.” Are you ok with that?
And how about the US politicians who fought to de-fund abortions for women who weren’t “forcibly raped” (as opposed to willing rapes, obviously)? They seem to think there are different, less deserving kinds of rape.
4) Obviously rape is bad, Lizz. But what about free speech?
Free speech is a pretty important right that we often take for granted. I believe in free speech. But do I believe in free speech above all else? No, not really.
I think free speech is important, but when it incites violence it loses my backing. There’s a big difference between saying ‘I hate women” and “It’s ok to hurt women because they are women” There’s also a difference between saying something, and creating a support group for it — and for a corporation like Facebook allowing its platform to be used to spread hate in the name of free speech.
5) People make jokes about all sorts of horrific things like murder and dead babies. Why is rape any different?
Well I’m sure that there are lots of people who would be horrified by murder and dead baby jokes and I don’t speak for them. But there is a difference: everyone agrees that things like murder and hurting children are bad, but not everyone believes that rape is bad.
Sure, if you ask people point blank if rape is ok, they’ll say no. But once you dig, you find that astonishing numbers of people think that many things aren’t rape (spousal/partner assault, while a woman is unconscious/asleep/drunk/incapacitated, when she was wearing “slutty” clothes or drinking). Margaret Wente claimed that we’re living in post-feminism utopia because Canada was outraged at Justice Robert Dewar when he said a women was asking to be raped based on her clothes, but you need only read the horrendous comments on the dozens of SlutWalk discussions to know that people believe victim blaming is loud and proud.
There’s an easy way to avoid my rage. Don’t make rape jokes. Don’t laugh at rape jokes. Don’t hang out with people who make rape jokes. It’s as easy as just acting like a decent human being.
Memories of 1999
I wish I had been a stronger person in high school.
It was a bad time in my life. I didn’t have any friends when I started (perfect example of how truly awful young girls can be), my family was broken up by the end of it, and throughout I had no self-esteem. As I sit here leafing through the pages of my year book, I don’t feel the pain that I went through then – though memories of my first kiss and first heart-break stir – but I feel regret.
The picture of my friend reminds me. In a photography class dark room one day in the ninth grade, I found myself with my former best friend. No one else was around. It was the opportunity I’d waited on for months: my chance to ask my best friend why she abandoned me, and why she’d taken others with her. I still remember how scared I felt. I ran the conversation over in my head. I felt panic rush through me. I wanted to know. I needed to know. But I developed my photos in silence instead. And then I went on to my next class. I wish I had asked that question instead of being tormented by it for years.
The picture of a boy- older than me, that I’d never spoken to but knew of- reminds me. On the city bus one day after school, I sat with friends, talking, giggling, about what was surely stupid stuff. A teenager got on. He was fat – quite fat – but that was all I knew of him. My friend puffed out her face to mimic him. We laughed. It was cruel, though I’m pretty sure the fat boy didn’t see it. But another boy, one sitting directly across from us did. He was disappointed. He told us we were awful. My regret is not being childish and mean (I have much bigger regrets for that category). My regret is that I wasn’t ever brave enough to be that boy. To tell people when they were jerks. To love myself enough that I didn’t need to judge other people to feel better. I still admire that boy on the bus.
The picture of Tanya reminds me. Tanya, I hope you read this and remember that day in the twelfth grade when I was an idiot. The school board changed the length of our school day by something like 12 minutes a day in order to add two full days of classes to the end of the year. We didn’t like that. And our teacher encouraged us to do something about it. Protest! Stand up for what you believe in! (though she prefaced it with “I’m not telling you to do anything. Don’t get me in trouble.”) I thought this was a stupid idea. I can’t remember the details or why I thought this, but I definitely thought this. And then some girls – girls who had previously rejected me – invited me to join their planning efforts. And suddenly things didn’t feel so stupid. I was so desperate to be accepted by these girls that I abandoned all logic and jumped on the bandwagon. In class the next day, Tanya turned to me and said “I thought you weren’t going to the protest.” Whether she meant for it to or not, I felt ashamed in that moment. I felt like my cover had been blown and all that was left was desperation. I wish I knew then that bandwagons are lame.
My picture reminds me. It reminds me to love myself now because I didn’t love myself then.
Most of the pictures in the year book don’t spark regret. They really don’t mean anything at all to me. I barely knew anyone. I don’t show up in the pictures because I didn’t really participate in high school life. I was too busy feeling small, I guess. Sometimes I think about the prospect of a high school reunion and wonder if I would go. What would it mean? Would it feel good? Bad? Or maybe nothing at all. The farther away I get from those years, the less they seem to matter.
I guess the real question is am I better now? If I died tomorrow, would I still regret the way I’ve acted in my life? I don’t think so (if you don’t count the times when I’m still a total doofus and say the completely wrong thing) but it’s probably still a work in progress.
Fat Acceptance
Saying that it might be ok for people to be fat is apparently pretty radical. No, not ok because they’re working on losing weight, but actually ok.
Did I just make you uncomfortable? Are you thinking of reasons to argue with me? It’s hard to understand, right? I didn’t get it at first. I can honestly say I don’t really even completely get it now – I’m still filled with way too much self-loathing to really accept that statement.
But I’m trying. Because once you start thinking about it, all of a sudden the world presents itself to you in a new way. Suddenly, you realize people are making fat jokes everywhere. Every day you hear about the obesity epidemic and how we’re basically all going to die of diabetes. And you see constant weight loss ads, diet foods, and nutrition counters. Fat people are everywhere and the world won’t let you forget it.
What’s more, you realize that every discussion about fatness is framed as a discussion about health. Only there’s never any distinction between fatness and poor health. They are one and the same. If you are fat, you must be unhealthy. It’s basically a fact. (Other facts: you’re a drain on the health care system, you’re setting a horrible example for your children who, in some cases, should probably just be removed from your care, you’re lazy, unlovable and gross.) Once you start paying attention, it’s astonishing how hateful the world can be – whether they’re trying to be that way or not.
Today, someone new followed me on Twitter so I went to check out her page. Immediately, I felt the need to pick a fight.
Driving around my hood today I suddenly noticed how many obese people there are. Why don’t people care about their health?
I’m not sharing that to embarrass the tweeter. When I called her on it, she acknowledged that it was unfair, but still didn’t seem to get it. I guess because it’s a radical concept. And isn’t that insane? That suggesting that people just might be meant to have different body types is hard for people to understand?
I have several problems with that tweet though. Let’s start with the obvious:
- Being fat is not the same thing as being unhealthy. Just as being skinny is not the same thing as being healthy. If you can look at a person and determine their health then you must have magical powers. Congratulations for that. But for the rest of you, you’re making assumptions based on one factor.
My Wii tells me I’m obese. My doctor has never once found anything wrong with my health that is in any way attributed to my weight. I’ve got perfect blood pressure. Normal cholesterol. I don’t have diabetes. I ride my bike every day. And yes, I am trying to lose weight. I’ve been dieting since I was 12. Never, in all those years, has it ever been about getting healthy. I just wanted to be skinny.
But there are plenty of skinny people out there. Those people who have rapid metabolisms that allow them to eat crappy food and never gain weight. And some of those people are unhealthy. I’ve met them.
And that’s what’s so screwed up about all our discussions about weight: they always link fatness to poor health so that must mean skinniness, the ultimate goal, equals good health. Maybe if the discussion was actually about health and didn’t conflate the two issues, people, in general, would be healthier.
- Being fat is probably not a choice. If you’ve never struggled with your weight, it’s not because you’re so much better at life than I am, it’s because you’re lucky. You have genes that allow you to process foods differently. You really love broccoli and hate anything with calories. You have a body that’s naturally suited to run marathons. I don’t know what the deal is. But people are different. What works for you might not work the same for others.
- We accept so many other unhealthy things in our world that cause disease and don’t blame individuals for it. Let’s use cars as an example. Driving a car spews toxins into the atmosphere. It affects everyone’s health. But we’ve accepted that even though we’re going to try to improve emissions, cars are necessary in our lives.
But what about fat people’s health? What about it? No one is advocating for poor health. I’m only suggesting that you not assume every fat person is in poor health.
I’m not an idiot. I know that bad foods and lack of exercise cause weight gain. And bad foods and lack of exercise also contribute to things like diabetes, high cholesterol and high blood pressure. But people can take care of their health and still be fat. And accepting fatness is not the same thing as suggesting people should do bad things for their health. If your diet or lack of exercise is hurting your body, then you should worry about that. But you don’t need the world to shame you for it.
As someone on the internet said: If shame could make people lose weight, everyone would be skinny. I can guarantee you that every fat person in North America has been made to feel bad about his/herself at some point and it didn’t make a difference on the scale. I can also tell you that tons of people are way better at shaming and hating themselves than any stranger will ever be. So your efforts are futile.
I’m not going to pretend that it’s not crazy hypocritical of me to suggest that you all be a bit more accepting of fat people when I’m going around blogging about trying to lose weight. But I will say that I’m working on examining the way I think about these things, and I’ve come around a bit. I’m no longer hoping to be a size 4. That’s not going to happen. My body is not meant to be a size 4. That’s ok with me. Bring on the size 12. Or 14. Or whatever I end up being. What I’m saying, is that it’s my decision to make how I deal with my own body. It’s really none of your damn business.
Governance in the Ford Administration
“So this debt ceiling thing is routine or the end of the world?”
“Both”
Toronto’s “budget crisis” feels a lot like America’s Debt Ceiling debacle. Our Mayor, and members on council who do whatever he tells them to vote his way, have told us that Toronto is facing a budget crisis. The Brothers Ford have framed it as if this is the first time Toronto has ever seen a budget shortfall (it’s not), and after hiring an outside consultant to find “efficiencies” (not revenue), told Toronto that we absolutely-must-there’s-no-other-way-unless-you-rob-old-people cut services to balance the budget. And not just any old services. Everything, it seems, was on the table. Libraries. Arts funding. HIV/AIDS and health-care grants. Transit. Social housing. The list goes on.
Suddenly, people were listening. As Edward Keenan put it in his GridTO column:
By looking at every goddamn thing that was not nailed down, the Core Service Review made it about every goddamn thing at once. And then the mayor went and invited everyone with something to say about it to come down to one single meeting. Which means the Heritage Toronto People and the AIDS program people and the library people and the cycling people and the dental health people and the snowplow-loving people and the labour-union people and the—well, all kinds of people who are not usually, necessarily on the same side of things—suddenly found themselves together facing an executive committee that appeared to be prepared to cut everything to plug an 8.5% hole in the proposed budget—a hole made larger by that same executive committee’s recent decisions to cut and freeze various taxes.
Many people were genuinely surprised at the proposals. Rob Ford has claimed for the past year that he was the politician who would listen to taxpayers. He was elected on the premise that there was too must “gravy” at city hall. He campaigned on eliminating wasteful spending on councillor’s lavish parties, costume rentals, expense accounts and free passes. He did not campaign on cutting libraries, arts and community group grants, snow shoveling or water fluoridation. Quite the opposite, in fact. He “guaranteed‘ that there would be no service cuts. None. Zero. Zilch.
344 Torontonians signed up to speak at last week’s Executive Committee meeting — out of passion, fear, or an angry “Can you hear me now? The Mayor, behind the façade of listening to taxpayers, insisted that the meeting would go on, without stopping, until everyone had been heard. It lasted 22-hours, ending in the early hours the next morning.
Only 168 voices were ever heard. Some people couldn’t get to the mic fast enough when their names were called. Others likely weren’t willing or able to commit to such a long wait – even lefty-socialists have jobs and families, despite what Doug Ford thinks. The cynic in me thinks that at least a few must have realized what a sham the whole meeting was and given up to go home. That’s what I would have done. But I’m one, of surely many, Torontonians who feels so jaded so early in Ford’s term that I don’t see the point in talking to those who reject my voice outright – both by email and publically.
I watched about 10 hours of the meeting. And after doing so, it was no more clear whether Toronto does or does not have a budget crisis. What is clear is that Toronto has a Governance crisis.
Good Governance, as defined by Unesco, has 8 basic characteristics: It must be “participatory, consensus oriented, accountable, transparent, responsive, effective and efficient, equitable and inclusive and follows the rule of law. It assures that corruption is minimized, the views of minorities are taken into account and that the voices of the most vulnerable in society are heard in decision-making. It is also responsive to the present and future needs of society.” I haven’t seen a lot of that lately at city hall.
Instead, we’ve been pitted against each other. There are supposedly those of us who use cars, and those of us who don’t. Those of us who work hard and pay taxes, and those of us who work cushy union jobs and, I guess, don’t pay taxes. Those of us who want to run this city properly, efficiently, and let people keep their hard-earned money, and those of us who want to waste it all on expensive labour, big government, sick people, old people, book people, bike people etc. Essentially, there are those of us who are worth listening to, and those of us who aren’t.
At the meeting there were dozens of emotional, conscientious pleas to maintain services. Many who were there felt engaged and proud of their city. But I was most struck by the under-currant of fear and distrust that I heard from most of the speakers.
Deputants, such as Kelly Fry, told the councillors in attendance that she did not believe the numbers. She, and at least one other deputant, called it a manufactured crisis. She also told the committee that, in the past, she watched councillors agonize over cuts, and felt that this council was doing it almost gleefully. Kelly Fry does not trust her city council. And she wasn’t the only one.
Union leaders are angry. Grannies are sarcastically angry. Children cried. Many people said they would pay higher taxes to save city services. Questioning councillors (I’m looking at you Mammolitti and Del Grande) seemed baffled and untrusting.
I believe the role of city council to be governance, not management. That is to say, Council should be thinking about what kind of city Torontonians want to live in, what Torontonians value, and what Torontonians need to live safely and happily, and then direct staff based on these principles (and not ignoring staff reports they don’t like).
In doing this, they need to consider the needs and wants of all Torontonians, not just the ones who suit a political agenda. They need to ensure our roads are safe, and as convenient as they can be for as many people as possible, while recognizing the very real constraints of city planning and infrastructure. They need to consider the economic impact of their decisions, but also the cultural. They need to recognize the difference that exists in the opinions of 2.3 million people, and that “Torontonians” are not a homogeneous group. Not everyone will be happy all the time. But if council has a vision, and that vision truly reflects the city, they will be doing the best they can.
To many people I know, the city is headed in a bad direction. It’s scary. And it’s wrong. City council can do better and we should all hold them to a higher standard.
The Skinny on gettin’ skinny(ish)
I wasn’t going to blog about Weight Watchers. It’s not that I’m embarrassed per se — I’ve blogged about weight loss and exercise before — it’s mostly that blogging about it draws attention to my weight (which, obviously, if I don’t say it aloud people will totally not notice, right?). And discussing weight loss means you all know my goals, and then [potentially] will know my failures.
My brain=therapy gold mine.
But I’m two days into the program, and I feel compelled to over-share.
Here’s how it works – they take your age, sex, height and weight, and come up with some magical formula for the number of points you get to eat in a day. The draw of points is that you can theoretically eat whatever you want, you just have to count it. (veggies=0, Big Macs=something like 14 points).
The result is that you think about food all the time.
On the positive side, it forces you to measure everything and find ways to reduce the amount of something you’re consuming (do I really need 2 Tbsp of pesto in this dish? How about 1?) and to cut out of popping food into your mouth when you’re cooking or scavenging in the fridge.
But it also means I’m spending the day thinking about how I’m going to use my points — like a kid getting an allowance trying to figure out the best thing to spend the limited funds on. Last night I found myself googling nutrition guides for frozen yogurt brands and restaurants. I was plotting, planning. I made a spreadsheet. I texted my friend who convinced me to join the program with her.
“What did you eat today? How many points do you have left? Are you going to make it?”
It’s madness.
The other trouble with the system is that healthy doesn’t always mean fewer points (despite their advertising). I can have a salad for dinner and then use up my points on chips, or I can cook a proper meal with whole grains and beans and blow my quota.
But I guess it will be finding the balance. In a week I’ll either be thrilled or cursing the damn thing. Maybe I’ll moonlight as a bookie and take your bets.
Dear Council, I’m confused
In listening to the infuriating debate in City Council today, I have a number of questions related to the debate. If only they’d answer me.
1. Councillors arguing in favour of removing Jarvis lanes have said that bike lanes were never in the plan. They argue that the original plan was about increasing the pedestrian streetscape. And yet they want the bike lanes removed in order to restore the 5th lane of traffic which also is contrary to the original plan of returning Jarvis street to a pedestrian-friendly cultural corridor.
Contradiction much? If you agree that the street should be better for pedestrians, surely it is better to have 1 less lane of traffic than it is to have a highway that allows for high-speed vehicle travel.
2. Many councillors agree that cycling downtown is “dangerous” and that is why they support the separated bike lanes. Councillor Minnan-Wong said that “a painted line doesn’t make it safer.” So doesn’t it follow that the reason cycling is dangerous is BECAUSE of cars, not because of a lack of separated lanes? And as such, there should be fewer cars on the streets to keep cyclists safer?
Conversing with the Mayor: Part 2
So I received a response from the Mayor’s email account to the letter I sent yesterday. I guess he does listen to taxpayers? But wait! Everyone else who wrote to the mayor on this issue received the same response. You can read his response on Duncan’s Biking Toronto Blog. It was infuriating. It does nothing to address our concerns and is clear that the mayor is not open to any new ideas or different points of view.
So I’ve written back to the mayor. He’s not getting off that easily.
Mr Mayor,
It’s disappointing that you’ve replied with a standard form letter that does nothing to address the issues presented in my letter, nor does it take anything I’ve said seriously. I spent a significant amount of time crafting a respectful letter to you in which I informed you of real concerns I have about our city. By sending the identical response to citizens who have written to you on this issue, you’re sending a message that our letters don’t matter.
You’ve presented me with an over-simplified argument that says that the volume of cyclists doesn’t warrant the special treatment that you feel bike lanes afford. You’ve also argued that it’s unfair to somehow penalize “commuters” by making room on the road for different vehicles.
It’s been made clear time and time again that bike lanes on Jarvis have not caused the gridlock that you warned it would. In fact, the City of Toronto report stated that car travel times were affected by only two minutes a day and that is mostly due to cars making left turns.
If I drove a car instead of riding a bike then that would contribute to gridlock. Cars take up 10 times the space on the road. It’s absurd to argue that bikes are the cause of Toronto’s traffic woes, when like you stated, 15,000 people are driving large vehicles daily in just this one area. Furthermore, bicycles are entitled to take an entire lane on the road that could be used for a car. Removing bike lanes doesn’t eliminate bikes from roads, it only serves to make cycling more difficult and dangerous.
Even if I were to accept your argument that lanes for 600 cyclists cause gridlock, which I don’t, isn’t your job as leader of our city to take care of everyone, not just the majority that makes the loudest noise? Good governance is about governing – looking toward the future, finding ways for growth and sustainability, and supporting the electorate who has given you the privilege of running this fine city.
The original plan for Jarvis street called for a revitalization that would see wider sidewalks and trees. It always included the removal of the fifth lane. Therefore, any argument that removing bike lanes will fix traffic gridlock becomes moot because that lane isn’t coming back.
As for our economy, how about opening your mind a little and exploring the ways in which cycling infrastructure and more liveable streets would increase tourism and encourage more people to live in the city in which they work? How about looking at ways to reduce gridlock by reducing the number of cars on the street? After all, we have a finite amount of space.
I hope you will take the time to consider my concerns this time. I share this point of view with thousands of Torontonians and we deserve to be heard.
Regards,
Lizz Bryce
Dear Mr. Mayor: Please Save Jarvis
After the disgraceful decision by the City’s Public Works Committee meeting last week to remove the recently installed bike lanes on Jarvis St, I decided I needed to try to speak directly to the mayor. After all, he claims that he listens. Below is the letter I have sent to him. I will also be writing to my city councillor to let him know that I can’t support a council that would vote for such backwards policies and planning.
You can write to the mayor at: mayor_ford@toronto.ca or find his other contact information here. Contact information for your local councillor can be found here.
Dear Mr. Mayor,
I’m writing to you as a citizen and taxpayer of Toronto. I found last week’s committee decision to remove existing bike infrastructure on Jarvis St, Pharmacy Ave, and Birchmount Rd distressing and confusing.
You campaigned on a promise of cutting out wasteful spending, yet this recent move, as well as your decision to cancel transit city, would cost the taxpayers money for absolutely no reason.
The bike lanes on Jarvis harm no one and help many. City of Toronto reports have made it clear that vehicle traffic was barely affected – and will be even less so once traffic lights are adjusted – and bicycle traffic tripled. The installation of bike lanes was originally part of a larger plan to revitalize the street in an effort to make it more liveable for the residents of the area. They pay taxes too.
Furthermore, this decision was made with no opportunity for public consultation, nor consultation with the local councillor. How can you say you’re listening to taxpayers when you don’t bother to ask us what we think?
I often hear you tell people that you will do what the citizens of Toronto want. Well I’m a citizen of Toronto and what I want is to travel safely to my destination by bike or foot. I want to live in a city that values the needs of all citizens equally.
Installing bike lanes on city streets achieves several goals: it alleviates gridlock by reducing the number of cars on the street and allows cars and bikes to travel more quickly in their respective lanes; it reduces pollution; it promotes healthy activity; it reduces the burden on our public transit system; it provides safety for cyclists and encourages cycling; and it keeps pace with the rest of the world which is striving for innovative and clean transportation alternatives.
As mayor, you’ve got a unique opportunity to make the city a better place through true leadership and innovative thinking. Toronto can and should be a place that other mayors look to for inspiration. You get to choose what your legacy will be, Mr. Mayor. How do you want to be remembered?
Regards,
Lizz Bryce
Guest Post: A little bedbug humour
Bedbugs got you down? It could be worse. A special guest post — in cartoon form– from my friend “Diablo Loco”
New York, New York!
New York at Night, as seen from the Empire State Building
There’s a reason New York City is the subject of songs, TV shows, movies and our imaginations. It’s where the cool celebrities who are looking to escape the tacky lights of Hollywood live, where they remain part of the scene and still get photographed enough to maintain their place in the media spotlight.
Brooklyn Bridge
New York city is amazing. It’s perfect. It’s so much more than I expected it to be.
Like Toronto, New York is a city of neighbourhoods. Low-rise apartment buildings, often with Parisian-style balconies and stone work, and trees line the streets. In many parts of Manhattan, the streets are surprisingly calm (and clean!) There are playgrounds (albeit concrete ones) with shouting children, cafés on the sidewalks, and street vendors selling wares on the sidewalk. Everywhere you look the city feels alive.
The Guggenheim Museum
Times Square — where we stayed at the super-chic W Hotel, complete with see-through bathroom walls, and waterfall ceilings — is arguably the worst part of the city. Slow-moving tourists pack the streets, all staring up at the garish billboards and flashing lights, expecting to see something special that doesn’t exist. Times Square is the place to go if you’re looking for an Olive Garden or M & Ms store (why this is a thing I’ll never know). It’s convenient, central, and perfect for hitting up Broadway shows and shopping. But it’s not interesting. And unless you’re up at the crack of dawn, when the square is still and only yellow cabs and shop owners travel the streets, it’s best to keep away from it.
Metropolitan Museum of Art
Highlight: The Alexander McQueen exhibit at the Met was stunning. Not being one for fashion, I knew very little about McQueen. But this collection is weird, dark, creepy, but still strangely beautiful. I walked out with my heart racing. Who knew I could be so affected by fashion?
On the 5th floor of the Met you’ll find a roof garden with 
awe-inspiring views of central park. Nothing but tree tops for three directions, surrounded by spectacular buildings.
Highlight: The Book of Mormon on Broadway
In my heart, I love musicals. But so often they work so hard to jam as many songs as possible into a show with no story that they’re just painful.
We saw Sister Act first. Besides not using any of the songs from the movie, they changed the already weak story into a pseudo-romance. Somehow, the audience ate it up. Maybe they had low expectations. But it wasn’t good.
So thank Jesus Christ for The Book of Mormon. In typical Stone/Parker style, it had its moments that made me uneasy. But it’s brilliant. Hilarious. Well-written. Well-acted. Totally worth the $150 I paid to sit in a cramped balcony with no-leg room and a cackling seat-mate.
Best buy: The New York Pass
Statue of Liberty
When I first found the New York Pass online, I was skeptical. For $80 for a 1 daypass (multi-day passes are available) the pass grants the holder free entrance into almost every tourist site in the city. Because we had plenty of shopping to do, we decided we could devote only 1 full day to touring around so we’d have to jam everything in.
With that in mind, the pass seemed like a good bargain. And oh was it ever. In a single day we did the following: The Guggenheim, The Met, The Statue of Liberty, a river boat cruise, Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum, and the Empire State Building. But there was so much more we good have done. What’s more, the pass let’s you skip the ticket line at lots of locations (much to the chagrin of the suckers wrapped around the block to buy tickets for Lady Liberty).
30 Rockefeller Centre
If you’ve got the time, check out the multi-day pass for a real bargain. Purchase the pass at the Planet Hollywood gift shop on Broadway or online.
Supplementing Memories
Memory is a funny thing. Things we might like to forget linger, and memories we’re desperate to recall remain stuck in unreachable places. (I’ve blogged about my lack of mother memories before.)
In this digital world, our lives are documented. If I die with young kids like my mum did, will my future children get to know me through blog posts and Twitter updates? (And would I want that?!)
My mum used to do a two minute column on CBC radio. My father recorded each one from the radio onto a cassette tape. So I’m going to share some with you so you can meet my mother in the same way I have to.
Here she is ranting about reading to kids and sucky books (keep listening to get a clip of me being super-adorable at age 2.)
Wednesday, April 6, 1988, “Learning to Read” on CBC Yukon’s Yukon Morning
Listen to Lorraine Young \"Reading to Kids\" here
The insightful things commenters post
It’s always nice to get such well thought-out feedback on my work.
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Happy Birthday, Ryan!
Today’s Ryan’s birthday. Here are some of the reasons why he is rad:
1) He’s got a ridiculous, and pretty weird sense of humour.
2) He rides a bike crazy fast.
3) He writes good stuff, like this blog.
4) He thinks he’s less weird than I am, but that’s a lie. Also, he lies a lot.
5) He reads big books so I don’t have to.
6) He likes baseball and video games.
7) He’s kind even when I’m miserable and grumpy.
8 ) If you were trapped in a castle and the only way out was to answer a series of trivia questions on Shakespeare, Romans and/or the many incarnations of The Flash, he could totally help you out.
9) He’s a feminist.
10) He takes care of me when I’m sick.
