Watching the preternaturally perky -- and thin -- actress Amy Adams in "Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day" at the movies last night, something occurred to me. When I am in what I call a thin state of mind (eating lightly, exercising, losing weight or at least feeling good about my prospects for losing weight) seeing skinny people inspires me. It makes me want that kind of body, the kind that can wear anything and look good, the kind that can be seen or photographed from any angle without looking fat, and it helps me keep working toward it. It's thinspiration.
On the other hand, when I am overeating, not exercising, and feeling down and hopeless about my size, seeing slim people just makes me mad. Or sad. Mad at myself for not being thin the way they are. Sad that I might never look like them. Jealous, envious, depressed, and full of self-loathing.
It's like being a little poor kid, seeing the local Richie Rich kid playing with amazing toys, wanting them with all your heart, and not having them. Except that unlike the child who needs someone else to buy her those toys, this is something I can get myself. I can have a better, healthier body if I work hard enough and long enough. I can achieve my weight goals. But no one else is going to do it for me. And it won't happen unless I work at it every day. The sooner I accept that, the sooner I get thin.
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