Are the Double Ds getting in your way?

Are you being living well or being faux-healthy? How discipline and denial got sexy...

Photo by Jennifer Burk on Unsplash

Happy Sunday folks! I had a whole different post mapped out for today but I’ve just read something that hit me with such delightful ferocity I’ve changed tack.

The piece in question is by the wonderful powerhouse of basassery that is

JULIA HUBBEL

(if you’re not already subscribed to her wonderful

Too Old For This Sh*t

then shame on you, frankly). She took a concept I explored last week and, like a champion relay partner, took the baton and sprinted it off into a better location.

In her piece You And I Are Too Old To Keep Adapting To A Sick Society, Julia looks at the reality of what makes us healthy, versus what we’re told works. One example she cites are everyone’s favourite, six pack abs, explaining:

Here’s another: six-pack abs. Like being thin, we equate this with health. Truth, the extreme work most have to do in order to achieve those abs can make us ill.:

She goes on to cite an article explaining that the low levels of fat we need to achieve true ab visibility are not necessarily in our best interests. And that, having achieved visible abs herself (in her 60s I might add) she can exclusively reveal that seeing your abs… doesn’t make you happier.

So far, so logical. We all know deep down that contentment and happiness is a little more complex than visible abs. Or do we?

My Healthy Fortnight

I am currently committed to a period of ‘healthiness’, prompted by the discovery that I have recently gained 6kg I’d rather not have. Now, before I continue, I should admit I am in some ways a genetic lottery winner. I have been blessed with a slim physique and a fast metabolism which means I’m able to indulge whims for junk food with minimal impact on my waistline. I’m sorry. If it helps, I attribute much of my metabolism to chronic anxiety. But we’re getting off point.

I have weighed roughly the same for my entire adult life - so the additional 6kg, while not awful, does mean my jeans are on the uncomfortably tight side. I know I am not overweight - but I’d rather be back at where I was. And I’d rather get there sooner rather than later so I can get back to eating chocolate. Because I love it. And it’s not like I’m doing heroin.

As an aside, the reason for this weight gain is the relationship phase I like to call ‘fat and happy’. I am nearly a year into a wonderful relationship with an amazing man who happens to be the best cook I’ve ever met. And his pasta dishes are next level extraordinary. A honeymoon period of excessive eating, drinking and merriment has left me slightly chunkier - and I wouldn’t change that for the world.

But the time has come for me to check this belly creep and reset myself. And, given I already exercise most days of the week, it’s my diet that has to change. To move things along quickly I’ve gone extreme - cutting out processed sugar, processed anything, bread and pretty much anything that’s not meat and vegetables. I’m not starving myself, I’m not subsituting meals with suspect ‘nutrition drinks’ and the weight if coming off. Soon I will be back on a modified existence that includes chocolate but, perhaps, doesn’t involve eating piles of pasta 6 nights a week.

But is this actually healthy?

Reading Julia’s piece made me pause. Why do I want to be slim? Why am I apologising in this piece for being slim? When did I decide that being slim is aspirational? That it is A Good Thing?

I didn’t, of course - I was told to. For my entire life I have been surrounded by images and messaging that tell me slim is good. And I’ve benefitted from that. No matter how much I’ve been paranoid about every other element of my outward-facing self (my hair, my voice, my face), I’ve always know that my body is ‘society acceptable’. And I don’t take that lightly - I know I’m lucky.

But I’m lucky because I happened to be born in the second half of the 20th Century - when society decided that slim was the thing. This - I suspect - is because no matter how much we are told the contrary, we live in Good Times. For most of us in the West there is enough food available that we are able to get fat.

So what is the ultimate power flex? Choosing not to get fat. Showing restraint. Declining food is the ultimate power move in a world where food is easily accessible.

Go back in history and you’ll see the reverse is true. For the first few years of my life, for example, I was an extremely rotund child. I’m not exaggerating - in my baby photos it’s impossible to see my eyes due to the chubbiness of my cheeks. I looked like the Michelin Man’s love child. My mother often told me she referred to me as a ‘Rubens baby’ - a reference to the larger women the artist often depicted in his works. Why? Because there have been times when carrying weight has been fashionable - a demonstration of wealth, power and the ability to over-eat (something most of society was unable to do). If you were able to over-eat, you were hot stuff.

Seen through this lens, visible abs are nothing more than an expression of self-control. Having a six-pack is not necessary for health - yet it has become aspirational for many men and women in gym-focused circles. And I am not immune. While a six-pack is not on my wish list, I can’t deny the feeling of smugness when I catch sight of myself in the gym and see a murmur of outlined abs. But this is all programming. Who knows what my natural self would think if I’d grown up in a vacuum away from magazines, television and other women bemoaning their fatness.

Stepping back further I see this trend for the double Ds - discipline and denial - present across much of the health and wellness industry. As I touched on last week, every successful wellness guru seems to have a schtick (or ‘brand’ as it’s also known) that they espouse by taking it to extreme. Be that waking up at 5am, spending 5 minutes daily in an ice bath, obsessing over nutrition, constantly measuring blood sugar or just… breathing. While we can learn much from elements of these - and these gurus are insistent on the ‘science’ that backs up their particular package - all of them boil down to this: be disciplined and deny yourself something.

The act of denial - be that sleeping in, chocolate or being warm - proves something to us - makes us feel we have achieved something. It makes us feel powerful - like we have conquered our own weakness. Ultimately it gives us the illusion of control - something we all crave to one degree or another. Control - whether as a ruthless dictator or a 5am meditator - helps us to stave off the realisation that nobody really knows why the fuck we’re here and what it’s all for. There’s a reason acts of denial have been adopted by virtually every popular organised religion - it makes you feel you’ve achieved something. You are part of something. You matter.

Radical ‘Unhealthiness’

Back to my 6kg shed - this is, of course, a massive Double D. Truth be told I’m miserable and hungry - but I can dress up the daily gymming and lack of processed carbohydrates easily as a palatable ‘being health’ - and throw everyone (and myself) off the scent of obsessive thinking and slightly unhealthy body image. If I’m honest I take pleasure in seeing my weight decrease - and I feel confident in my jeans. But this isn’t healthy. This isn’t even real - it’s my buying into and submitting to the world that has been presented to me. And I’ve gaslighted myself into believing it all for 43 years. I’m not seeking healthiness - I’m seeking to conform.

Of course, all of this is programmed in so deeply I don’t really have a hope in hell of shifting it. Because looking ‘good’ in a way society has told me to does make me feel good. Of course it does - I’m doing what I’ve taught to do. And in a world of plenty, denial is king.

But maybe if we just become a little more aware of this, we have some hope of creating a life for ourselves we actually enjoy. Or at least remembering to build in some joy between the Double Ds.

Or maybe we can go further than this - and try to create some active pleasure in pushing against the Double Ds. As Julia puts is “It’s a radical act to push back at the bullshit”. And being radical might just feel more empowering than weighing 6kg less.

So the next time I find myself doing something that involves the Double Ds, I’m going to ask myself this: why am I doing this? Whose idea is this? Do I agree with it? And maybe - just maybe - I might create a life that’s most genuinely healthy for myself.

To finish, I’ll sign off with Julia’s words, because they’re great.

Society is sick. The more we adapt to it, the sicker we get.

Take your life back. Take your mind back. Take your health in hand.

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Thank you so much for reading today! I do hope I’ve managed to land the point above without coming across as a smug skinny dickhead. As a woman writing about weight feels like a sensitive topic and one not to be waded into lightly. These are merely my reflection of what feels true for me. Have you ever felt like this? Do you recognise the Double D’s in your life? Should we push back or will life as we know it end?!