The F Word

There’s an awesome dialogue about health and wellness and whole-ness going on here.  After reading it I feel enlightened. And embarrassed.  Why?  Because the concept of fat talk is something I never thought about.

My personal philosophy on life embraces kindness to self and others as its overarching value.  My education in counseling taught me about encouraging strength in people.  Yet I had never considered the impact of my internal and external dialogue about weight.  How many times have I thought or said things like, those three miles I ran this morning totally off-set that cinnamon bun I just ate?  How many jokes have I made about my beer belly?  How much have I  talked about the fact  that the apple I ate  is totally counteracting that chocolate bar?  Or lamented I’m so bloated?

This was never directed at others, always at myself (though I’m sure I haven’t contradicted others when they have uttered these phrases about themselves).  But why is this the dialogue? Why not say instead: I’m so proud of myself for running three miles today.  Or damn that was a good cinnamon bun/beer/apple/chocolate bar.  Or I should probably drink some water; that creamy soup didn’t sit so well.

Even more important for my dialogue to change since my professional role involves being a trusted resource for college students.  And while I am appalled at this counselor’s terrible response to a serious situation and can’t imagine what would possess someone to say that, I can’t ignore my own vocabulary.

So I pledge to be more aware.  To stop the fat talk.  To start instead the health talk.  The wellness talk.  The whole-ly, beautifully, uniquely me and you talk.

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