Time For Everything: MY BODY (il mio corpo)

For years now I have battled with my weight. I went on my first diet at age 10 after I was teased at school in a particularly cruel episode that I still remember vividly. Since I hit puberty early, my hips and breasts arrived while I was still playing with dolls and climbing trees. In addition, because I was so tall (5’8” at age 12, 5’11” now) the entire package was psychologically traumatizing.

So, I remember in 6th grade starting to eat a bagel and tea for breakfast, skipping lunch, and then picking at dinner. As my weight dropped, people began to positively reinforce what I was doing. I remember going to Hawaii with my family and there was a buffet, and I barely touched anything. My grandmother looked at my plate, and approvingly commented: you eat like a bird. I remember being able to fit into a pair of small jeans and a bodysuit and looking in the school bathroom mirror as I realized that I was finally thin. I stayed this way for the next couple of years.

Then, I was accepted into the advanced honors program at a private high school, moved to live with my mother in a new city, surrounded by uber-rich pretty girls and preppy boys and within weeks I got a headache that didn’t go away. For the next two months I lay on the couch in pain, mentally and emotionally numb from watching TV and just eating. By the time the doctors had determined there was nothing physically wrong with me, and everybody had decided that perhaps it was stress (which it was), I had gained all the weight back and then some. I returned to my old school, feeling defeated, fat, and like a failure. I remember looking at my freshman year school photo and seeing how chubby my face was. And that was when I stopped eating all together. I remember the spring of my freshman year limiting myself to 400 calories per day, and working out at the gym for two or three hours everyday. My boyfriend at the time desperately tried to get me to eat, but I refused. By the beginning of my sophomore year of high school, I was down to 135lbs (60kg) on my broad, powerful frame, and stayed that way for the next two years. I remember walking late into my Spanish class my junior year and my teacher was talking about vocabulary to describe the body. She smiled at me and said: Laurel es alta e flaca (tall and thin). I remember thinking: Wow. It’s about time.

Shortly thereafter my best friend Shayna had a frank conversation with me and said: Laurel, you look TOO thin. You look sick, you’re arms are sooo skinny. So, I started to eat a little bit more, gained about 10lbs, and then decided to play basketball again. I put on about 15lbs of muscle weight that year as I played basketball, and as I look at photos of myself from that period, I looked fantastic. So, me at an athletic 160lbs (72kg) is best. I finished high school a little heavier than during basketball season, but still slender.

Well, needless to say…I gained all the weight back and then some during the college years. I wasn’t playing sports anymore, had my car, and didn’t have parents around to monitor my food. Additionally, being at women’s college means that there is an entirely supportive environment for looking anyway that you want…and an extremely negative environment towards doing anything damaging to your body to fit in with the skinny-model culture. At women’s college, it’s easy to be fat. You are judged on your character, and never your body.

After I graduated, as you know, I spent the summer in Italy. Walking everywhere and eating the Italian way (smaller portions, little sugar, etc.) resulted in an easy 20lb weight loss. I didn’t even notice that it had happened. And since I have been back here, I’ve probably lost another 20. I tried on a pair of jeans today, and I fit perfectly into a size 48…which is an American 10. At my heaviest, before I left for Italy, I was a size 18. At 5’11, being a size 10 is still curvy, but not overly-so. I look at photos of myself now, and think: Ok, this is more like it. I’d like to loose another 15-20 lbs, and then I’ll be at fighting weight. All in good time.

So, how am I doing it? It’s small, simple things. My roommates and I always eat dinner together…and we talk and take our time, so we aren’t shoveling food down before our body has time to react. And the foods are so simple but always delicious. A salad with Besaola (a type of lean prosciutto), some fresh ricotta from the outdoor market Ballaro, and a side of pasta. I eat a lot of soup that I make myself with meat and veggies. I drink a lot of espresso, water, and a glass of wine or two every few days. I DON’T drink diet soda, because I honestly believe it messes with your metabolism and your body’s proper reaction to caloric intake.

Contrary to our popular American thinking that carbohydrates make you fat—I eat pasta almost every day and I am dropping weight, and quickly. It’s not the pasta itself…it’s the heavy sauce and the sheer portion size that is the problem in the States. Here, you eat a light pasta with FRESH sauce, and you only eat enough to make you feel satiated. And oranges or fruit to finish. I eat a lot of fruit here…and the outdoor markets are great fun to buy that stuff there.

But, most of all, I walk EVERYWHERE. I probably walk an hour or more everyday just getting around. I find that my body is still really strong like when I went to the gym because in my daily life I am a lot more physical. And when I am teaching, I’m on my feet for hours at a time.

It’s, admittedly, very difficult for me not to fall back into the same pattern of starving myself. It’s difficult being around these lithe Italian women all the time, and knowing that my size 10 is the largest the clothes stores carry...and so the temptation to not eat so I can be thin quickly is powerful. I intellectually know this isn’t healthy. My friends have gotten on me about this a couple of times when they don’t think I’m eating enough. Silvia has promised to keep an eye on me—and if she sees me getting too thin, then she will tell me. Once a week, I make sure that I eat everything I want, and then some…so this week I had a heavy pasta for lunch, snacked throughout the day, then ate an entire pizza (real Italian-style) for dinner, and two pieces of chocolate cake. At the end of it, I felt icky, and that took care of my desire to over-indulge again for a while. But it also gave my metabolism a good shake-up. And I think that eating the Italian way is something that I can maintain for the rest of my life. I much, much prefer it. And THAT, my friends, is what is most important. I don’t want to fight with my body anymore. I want to declare peace, and be at it and with it.