I'm thin - really thin by U.S. standards, though that's not saying much. And I know I'm thin because I hear it all the time. In a given week, someone usually brings it up at least once.
Let me share with you some of the incredible things I've heard about being thin. Being me, it turns out, comes with spectacular benefits. I can eat anything I want all the time. Gallon of ice cream for breakfast? Why not! Bacon double cheeseburger and fries for lunch? No worries. In fact, I'm thinking about buying stock in Hostess because I have the green light to eat a Twinkie-centric diet forever.
I also never need to exercise. I magically maintain my stickly skinniness no matter what. I suppose that's good news. Think of all the time I save while the rest of you poor suckers suffer at the gym.
My whole family is thin. Apparently you can tell this just by looking at me. I never knew my genes were so visible. I hope anyone who sees an impending death from some genetic malady will let me know what's looming.
Unfortunately, most of what I hear about thinness is crap. Yes, I'm thin. Yes, my family is thin. Yes, it might be easier for me to maintain this natural body weight than people who are built more sturdily. However, being thin is still the result of careful lifestyle decisions I make.
I am the person who reads labels in the grocery store like crazy. I'm genuinely worried about eating Kroger-brand anything, especially meat and milk. I stopped eating eggs for a while because my parents have borderline high cholesterol. I down six to eight cups of water a day.
I pack produce-laden lunches when I can and stock up on fresh fruit every week at the grocery store. It's not unusual for me to go through about 15 pieces of fruit a week. I almost never eat fast food and rarely drink soda. I eat junk food in small portions, despite my unfailing weakness for sugar. I even try to work in small amounts of exercise just to remind myself I can't skip the gym forever.
Still, I have health risks from being the way I am, which include being thin for now. For example, I'm more likely to wind up hunched over with osteoporosis than most women.
Years ago, I had all kinds of jaw problems. It caused the kind of pain that made me not want to smile, much less talk. Chewing was nearly out of the question. Until the problem subsided, keeping weight on was a chore. The freshmen 15 melted off as I tried to fit dining hall food into a liquid diet.
When I look in the mirror today, I don't see the same me I saw at 18. My face now is a narrower version of the girl's who went to prom and filled out college applications. Cheekbones is a new phenomenon, and not one I've always welcomed.
That being said, I like being thin and feel lucky to have a body type that is more forgiving of the occasional junk-food binge than most. Having a boyfriend who knew me before and after (though mainly during) my worst health moments helped too. Even graduate school played a part; at the end of the quarter, there's no time to worry about how I look.
When I hear wistful comments about weight, I want to point out that it wasn't always a blessing for me. Being skinny takes work, no matter your genetic makeup. In some ways, you can control what you look like and in some ways you can't. Stop worrying about thin, thinner and thinnest. Being healthy is all that really matters.
Robin Donovan is a graduate student studying journalism and columnist for The Post. Send her your comments at rd253609@ohiou.edu.
4 Opinion
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