by Amelia Kanan
I’m so sick of people.
Let me narrow it down. I’m sick of people judging health by the way someone looks. I’m sick of people who “struggle with their weight” and say they “eat healthy” because they order salads with hidden sugars in the dressing, spread margarine on their bread, take diet pills or eat an extreme diet to which has a finnish line.
It’s unfortunate but my exterior definitely misrepresents how clean my insides are. I’m more active and love to sweat hardt, I eat really clean and no, I’m not skinny. Deal with it.
My point is, I’m sick of people telling me what I should do. I’m sick of them assuming it’s my eating habits. I’m sick of watching someone eat crap when they think it’s healthy, all the while telling me what I should do. They feel they have this authority over my health because their waistline is smaller then mine. Sorry, that doesn’t fly with me. This past week, I’ve been told by 4 different people (3 of which struggle with their waistlines) what Everyone is always curious to see what I order. How much I eat. Whenever I’ve joined a new gym, fitness class or yoga studio I have to prove my level of fitness because people assume by the way I look that I’ve never been to one before. My friends tell me this is all in my head. I don’t think so, I’m too aware of people.
Here’s the thing world: Eating isn’t my issue.
Please, don’t tell me how I should eat, when I should eat, what size portions, how infrequently/frequently, yadda yadda. I understand nutrition better than most and because of everything I’ve learned, I don’t believe in fad diets (when I say “fad” I include Weight Watchers in this) because I just believe in eating healthy (nutritionally as well as portion control) and I like it, it makes me happy and it makes my body feel good. And sure, I have off days where I eat something that I don’t normally eat and let me tell you, my body pays for it. But, that’s none of your business. All I ask is to leave me alone and maybe direct your outwardly focus inwardly. I’m not calling out that big doughy breadstick you tried to pretend to eat only a bite of, then half until you polished it off, the 2 refills of diet coke you’ve gulped down or the “healthy” salad you brought to that pot luck filled with sugar. Leave me alone.