Thursday, August 04, 2005


I've been having one of those days again today. This whole weight loss thing just seems to be taking up so much of my life and my energy, I sometimes wonder whether it's all really worth it and why I'm pushing myself like this. Trying to get thin so that when I'm sitting alone on the sofa at night I can feel good about myself? Making sure I'm healthy so I can savour all those nights I come home from work and eat vegetables alone? Is that why I'm doing this?

There are too many days at the moment where I have too little energy and it's affecting my performance at work. I'm not logging enough hours because there are times when, quite simply, I need to sit with my eyes shut for 10 minutes or so in order to summon up the energy to carry on. What do you record that under? I've started eating more, and better, to try to shake this lethargy off, but without success. I'm trying to sleep more, but between sleep (and the essential baths to make sure I actually can sleep), exercise and the constant food shopping to keep myself stocked up with fresh fruit and veg, what time does that leave me? Would I be happier, or have more energy if I stopped this now and stopped being so obsessed by it? I know I'm just having one of those days (PMT probably), and I do want to do this, but I just need to get my insecurities out sometimes.

This isn't a weight loss thing though, it goes deeper than that, to the heart of who I am. Why do I force myself to struggle on alone, and what is the point of a life lived only for me? And this isn't me saying I wish I could attract men, almost the opposite. This is me saying what is the point when I'm fundamentally unsuited to a relationship with anyone. When I do run the risk of getting involved with someone I push them away. And as I get thinner it could get worse. I don't want to attract men with my body, because for a man to be anywhere near suited to me he needs to be attracted to my mind, not how I look. I fear that if someone is attracted to my body they'd want something that I'm not sure I can give them. And then I'd only end up hurting them anyway. I know I've debunked the fat destiny idea somewhat, but the single destiny one still rings true to me. And what great timing with Bridget Jones's Diary back in the Independent today, no doubt still dreading dying and being eaten by her dog.

This is something that I've been trying to write for weeks now, but failing to come up with the right words for. But still, it's an essential part of me, and is maybe so deeply intertwined with my body issues that it shouldn't be kept locked away. Basically speaking, I'm not interested in sexual relationships. I never have been, and having made it to 27 without wanting anything like that, maybe I never will be. This is in fact one of the more intriguing things I want to test out on this journey, if I can love my body, can I let someone else love it too?

Over time I've tried to explain it away so many times to myself, but basically I've just never wanted sex. It's not that I didn't have opportunities, time and again at university I'd get myself into a situation where anything was possible, man at my mercy. Part of me wanted to get the monkey off my back as it were, to say I'd done it, and to take it from there. And then I'd back away, chicken out and realise I couldn't go through with it. Something inside me was just repulsed by the idea. I even managed an 18 month relationship where nothing happened. I liked the company, but I didn't want to go further with anything physical. And that's why I ended it, because I thought I was being unfair to keep dragging him along when I had nothing else I was prepared to give. Maybe I thought it was just the chemistry between us, but it wasn't. It was me. Maybe I thought that no-one would be stupid enough to think I was beautiful, but would that have stopped most 19 year olds? If I'd believed him, would I have gone through with it? I have no idea now, and it's pointless wondering really.

And after that, well, nothing. A disastrous date or two (ending the same way most of them did, me running out of the door when I realised things were going too fast in the wrong direction) in the first couple of years, and then a vast period of fatness where I didn't look, I didn't crave companionship, and I learned to love the single life. I stopped bothering with flirtation in clubs, having realised one day it might land me in a situation I couldn't get out of (I very nearly got burned by that once). I began to realise that it wasn't my size stopping me finding someone, it was who I was. I started reading around on asexual message boards, finding that there were other people out there with similar issues. I don't go there very often, but it's nice to know they're there. This is just how I am, and I don't really need "support" or advice about it, I've come to terms with myself. Most of the time it's just not something I think about.

I don't even know what I want here. Part of me still dreams of a relationship with someone, someone to hold me when I'm having a bad day, and to curl up in front of the fire with. But those fantasies never involve anything sexual, and although my dream might not be impossible, it's hard to find someone else who wants that and nothing more. Maybe if this whole weight loss thing changes who I am and what I want, I'll be happy, but I'm not sure I fancy stepping on that emotional rollercoaster and putting my happiness in the hands of someone else. I really don't know, but I'm interested to find out, I guess.


Post a Comment

<< Home