Un-Slender Skeleton

Written by Jacqueline Delibes. Originally published on Peri Winkle Wellness on Jan. 15, 2024

If you’re one of those women who had a hypercritical mother like I did (mine put me on a liquid diet at 16 years old against the doctor’s advice), you can pretty much expect the remainder of your life to be about learning to saturate yourself with bountiful, gorgeous heaps of love. Okay, thanks for reading, bye!

Wait! I’m just kidding, but that’s actually the main message.

So, let’s hang out a bit—I want this discussion to amuse and inspire you. Allow me to be your guide on a personal journey about food, weight, and learning to cherish ourselves.

I’m in my 50s, an incredibly late bloomer, an artistic healer type, and someone who’s been dealing with weight issues my whole life. I achieved new heights (and depths) due to the global pandemic—an epic weight gain second only to the weight I gained during my stint working at a law firm.

A word about being in the wrong profession and how it undercuts our self-esteem. Having worked exclusively as a freelancer in unpredictable creative fields and finding myself struggling in my early 40s, I accepted a full-time position at a law firm.

As I became increasingly aware that I didn’t fit into the culture, I leaned into being an outsider.

For example, I stole an attorney’s law degree and replaced it with a print of a John Singer Sargent landscape painting. Told him, “Live a little.”

As I typed up scintillating legal briefs for small claims court, the mismatch of who I was and where I worked was clear. Although this firm was a decent place with an admirable pro bono practice, after a couple of years, working there made me feel insane, invisible, and unheard. I wasn’t allowed to be myself. Maybe I didn’t even know who I was yet.

“Why yes,” I thought to myself, “what an excellent time to get bigger than ever. I’ll show those lawyers who’s creative and who’s not.”  

Diet Programs I Paid For

As a wellness benefit, my firm contracted with a world-famous weight loss company, and I signed up. Yes, I lost weight, maybe 30 or 40 pounds, and I stuck with it for a time, attended weekly meetings, used their proprietary system, and felt better. This is not an argument for or against these companies—they can work very well; some people swear by the program and become lifetime members.

Frankly, sometimes we need help, whether from a nutritionist or a coach with legitimate training. I’m just not sure eating properly should include a monthly fee for the rest of my natural life.

Food Addiction Recovery Programs I Did Not Pay For

When I was younger, I went to 12-step meetings about how to handle food. Again, these programs are a lifeline to many, and I respect that. I did not become a devotee, but one powerful aspect of the program is that people tell poignant, impactful stories.

I noticed the radiance of a woman who got up to speak. It shone in such sharp contrast to her message. Smiling, she said, “I was raised by a schizophrenic mother.” I’m sure she said much more, but that’s all I remember. If you think people don’t openly discuss mental health today, imagine how much less they talked about it in the 1990s.

This woman gave me an incredible gift. She gave me permission to privately acknowledge that my mother had also been mentally ill, though undiagnosed. Later on, a therapist and I figured it out forensically. My mother had also been abusive and neglectful in a way that blunted my life and relationships.

Maybe it’s a vast oversimplification, but lovelessness can be a direct line into addiction. For me, that addiction was to food. And here we are.

Back to funny, back to funny!

How I Deal With Pants

Women who have never been overweight and who do not have body dysmorphia don’t fear pants. They slip into white jeans and date rock stars.

I’m short. By that I mean I pretend to be 5’3” when I’m actually 5’2”. That means I qualify as petite. Yet I am also medium-boned! That doesn’t deserve an exclamation point, but having an un-slender skeleton means I might hulk out of the petite department.

Are you picturing me trying on pants in front of an angled mirror under blinding fluorescents? Horrifyingly lit dressing rooms create a truly dissociative experience. It may surprise you to know that I have successfully avoided this scenario for the past few years. I have magical pants karma, and I don’t know how I got it. I hereby bestow it upon you.

I can purchase jeans on Amazon, and when they arrive, they fit. My secret is staring at the product photo, reading the reviews, buying my size in a petite, and ensuring a). it’s not a straight-legged boy cut jean and b). they’re loaded with stretch fabric. I buy a couple of pairs, then wear them until they expire.

How I Deal With Movement

No matter where my weight is, I’ve maintained a fierce, life-long commitment to light-to-moderate exercise. I want you to view this as the success that it is. With the exception of the COVID-induced lockdown era, I have always taken near-daily walks or rode a bike. I pop in and out of gym memberships, so there have been periods when I’ve added some spin, yoga, and cardio classes. I genuinely enjoy taking classes and feel a sense of pride at having gotten myself there.

I’m very fortunate that I am exquisitely healthy, and despite all their drama, I will give my parents some credit here.

Food Early On, Food Recently, Food Now

I grew up with a typical French diet, not a standard American one. What that means is having three times more vegetables on a plate than protein, for starters, and almost zero processed foods. We usually had two cooked vegetables plus a side salad, meat, fish, or egg protein, tense, awful arguments, and smoke from Dad’s cigarettes—glaring silences.

Desserts at our house looked like desserts in French paintings from the Middle Ages—nude pears cut in half lengthwise and baked in red wine for 20 minutes. You’re welcome. Hardly ever any ice cream. Tangerines.

I had a solid nutritional foundation. What a lifetime of food addiction has given me is an inability to portion correctly and seasons of eating emotionally-driven pints of fudge ice cream, cheddar-flavored potato chips, and massive chocolate bars. Trips to the drug store to get Raisinets and frozen pizza felt like I was sneaking out to score some crack. It did not feel good.

In midlife, with fluctuating hormones, these choices were not ideal for that layer of belly fat experts call dangerous. But it’s not just the health and appearance of my body taking a hit. The real problem was how I felt about myself while indulging in what is essentially a trauma response. We wake up when we realize we’re the only ones who can lavish ourselves with love.

I had an insight. Very recently. When choosing food from a place of addiction, I felt shame buying it, a very short-lived endorphin rush when consuming it, and then shame after the fact. I was consuming shame—just like at the dinner table growing up. As a family, we consumed tension, arguments, anger, and shame.

I have to honor a 1997 video that Oprah Winfrey produced called “Make the Connection.” I watched that thing over and over. Although I no longer have it, I thought about it a few months ago. The connection she wanted herself and us to make is that taking on a healthy relationship with food, exercise, and weight loss overhauls all the places we’re stuck in life; it’s not about restriction; it’s about possibilities and expansion.

Today, I use a calorie tracker and gradually increase my exercise. Instead of seeing a pint of ice cream as a single-serving treat, I see it as a pathway to re-experience rejection. That doesn’t mean it’s off limits, but since I know I’ll overdo it, I don’t keep it in the house. A treat now is chopped apricots and dates drizzled with fresh lime juice.

My intention is that this short glimpse into my weight loss journey helps you orient yourself. Where are you now in your recovery process? I want you to see losing weight and establishing healthy habits as a byproduct of choosing a more expansive, loving, and delicious life experience, not as the main event.

Fabulous good luck with future pants buying!