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For some reason, though I tell myself and everyone else that I care not for physical appearances, I insist on berating myself for being overweight. I am unable to look at myself without a slight shudder of disgust, repulsed by the lack of definition in my arms, my stomach, my legs. I wonder why I am unable to let go of such a vain consideration.
I have a beautiful woman who loves me and continually tells me how attractive I am to her. This I can readily accept, but for some reason I cannot see myself in that same light. I take every available opportunity to berate myself for my lack of dedication to any semblance of fitness regime. At 6 feet 3 inches in height, I weigh 280 pounds. Supposedly, by the false standards set for the North American public by a capitally driven economy, ideal weight for my height and build is around 185-210. I have never, ever fit into that bracket at my current height.
I know that those standards are false, and set by those who want my money for a quick fix on the road to 'health'. I know that in almost every other area of the world, having a 'weight problem' means being malnourished, rather than the other way around. So why, I wonder, am I so involuntarily preoccupied with this collection of adipose tissue that has attached itself to my personal being? Have I been so indoctrinated by media and advertising against being 'overweight' that I am subconsciously programmed to a knee-jerk reaction when presented with an apparition such as my own?
Perhaps.
I have a beautiful woman who loves me and continually tells me how attractive I am to her. This I can readily accept, but for some reason I cannot see myself in that same light. I take every available opportunity to berate myself for my lack of dedication to any semblance of fitness regime. At 6 feet 3 inches in height, I weigh 280 pounds. Supposedly, by the false standards set for the North American public by a capitally driven economy, ideal weight for my height and build is around 185-210. I have never, ever fit into that bracket at my current height.
I know that those standards are false, and set by those who want my money for a quick fix on the road to 'health'. I know that in almost every other area of the world, having a 'weight problem' means being malnourished, rather than the other way around. So why, I wonder, am I so involuntarily preoccupied with this collection of adipose tissue that has attached itself to my personal being? Have I been so indoctrinated by media and advertising against being 'overweight' that I am subconsciously programmed to a knee-jerk reaction when presented with an apparition such as my own?
Perhaps.
