Scale Watching

It was a matter of time that I would write about this. I didn't think it was necessary to talk about weight or body image matters anymore because I no longer feel much about it. But last night, my mom called to tell me that my uncle Philip had called to tell her that I was putting on some pounds. So she called to ask if I had indeed become fatter or was it the hair that made me looked fat.

It is without a doubt that prettier people gets a little more leeway and that people are more protective of them and are more attracted to them. It is natural, it is animal instincts to like pretty things, nothing’s wrong with it. I once was at a boot camp and we had this exercise where we had to delight customers. Make lunch, set the table, served the customers. Only that the “customers” were some kindergarten children. There was this exceptionally pretty kid, she was sooo very sweet, big dolly eyes, black shinny hair and was like a miniature sweet beauty. Half of the people in my team was serving her. They coaxed her, served her food and water, waited on her, played with her, carried her around. We had like 25 people, and half of them waited on her. As usual, I have always been the background observer and I found it very amusing. Yes, pretty or beautiful people get some leeway, in some case, a lot of leeway. And this is just so natural. I once read an article that says that only ugly people would say that being pretty is not important. Many more such stuff, like from veteran Hong Kong actress Carol Cheng, she said that people who cannot control their weight cannot control their lives. Etc etc. The day I stopped watching the scale was the day I saw how my father struggled to weigh himself on the scale, hoping to weigh a few kilos more. Oh how ironic. There was I struggling to weigh less while he was struggling to weigh more. He was being self-conscious in being too thin. It was like a relief when he weighed a little more. Made me realise the degree of our humanly obsession with the image of our body. And that was the day it clicked in me and I decided that I am not the number on my scale.. Period.

Ok, this being said, it does not take away the responsibility of taking care of your body. Like eating right or exercising. So, I am still human and a rather lazy human that is. Already having a very low metabolic rate, plus a tendency of having comfort food like chips and chocolates, all not helping the situation. So here I am, weighing the heaviest ever in my life; I think. A little ashamed but thank goodness no more hating it. Okay, so I guess I would better go do some sweating exercising for my own well being. And so it goes.

Since we’re at the topic, I might as well tell you how terrible I used to feel about myself and how some words could do a lot of damage. You see, I was born with a birth mark on my right cheek. It is a patch of pigmentation like specks of freckles and the patch just grew bigger over 30 years. So since I was 4 till 16, I had people exclaiming in my face, “how horrible it must be!” or “what a pity! Such lovely face but.........” and they would continue to examine me like I was the elephant man. And so I hated them. And when it was you know, dating era, I grew to have such inferior complex that I didn’t think any guy could ever love me. And it didn’t help that I had immature boyfriends or that some guy blurted “did someone punch you?” So anyway, it was so refreshing to have met Bren cos he was the first guy who told me he loved my freckles. Well, whether he was genuine about it does not matter cos he lifted the inferior veil off my face. That invisible, self-imposed veil. And I could see again.

It was refreshing not to hide. Not to hide or wish to be unnoticed. And it is refreshing to just receive a compliment and not to shoot it down in an instant.

It is very important what food we feed our minds as much as what food we feed our stomachs.
We wouldn’t eat rotten food so why would we wanna hear rotten things?

Good riddance.