Some Reasons Why Diet Culture is Garbage: I Poop a Lot and I'm Always Hungry

It was the spring of 1996, and my mom and I were at the mall shopping for my senior prom dress. I had decided I was only going to eat 500 calories a day over the weekend. It was track season, so I couldn't starve myself on practice and meet days, but in my mind it seemed perfectly logical to basically starve my healthy, 17-year-old body on less physical days. I was in the fitting room trying on dresses, and I heard the sales person say to my mom, "Your daughter is so tiny!" I was light headed and nauseous from not eating, but that overheard compliment made me feel like it was all worth it. 

Senior Prom 1996

I've struggled with my body image since I was a pre-teen, and in the 30+ years that have passed it's still something with which I struggle daily. I spent years punishing my body so I wouldn't gain weight: eating very few calories and working out for hours, purging, taking laxatives, only drinking alcohol until I threw up so I wouldn't gain weight. It's hard to write about this embarrassingly toxic behavior, but it is important.

In a weird way Crohn's saved me from continuing down that path. While food was/is still the enemy, it is different. Once I got sick food became so physically challenging that I strangely began to accept it more mentally. I have gained and lost weight so many times in the last twenty years. I've been a size zero and I've been my current weight, my heaviest at 138 pounds. And to be honest I haven't been happy at either. When I was so skinny I was so sick, and there's probably a place somewhere in the middle where I'm the happiest. But truth be told the number on the scale makes me stressed. I don't like to weigh myself. I like to think about how I feel: do I feel healthy? Do I feel strong? How is my Crohn's doing? Do my clothes feel good? In my nearly 46 years on this planet I know those things are more important, and I try not to let that number on the scale taunt me.

The last few years have been tough on my body. After each of my five hospitalizations in last 5 years I would lose 10-12 pounds, and I would struggle to maintain a healthy eating balance given that I have to limit fruits and vegetables. Early on in 2020 I realized another pitfall of COVID: even though I was working out 5-6 days a week, I wasn't moving as much. In city hall I would walk to meetings and even walk down the hall to go to the bathroom. I was constantly moving. Since 2020 I've sat on video calls, sometimes for hours, often barely moving throughout the day. I've worked a lot to combat that so I can continue to feel active and strong.

After my last abdominal surgery (my 7th and the 4th one where they used the vertical incision from the top of my abdomen almost to my pelvis) my surgeon told me he "tried to make my stomach as normal as possible". Now I have what can best be described as a lump on my lower left abdomen. No amount of crunches will take care of it. It's been very difficult to adjust to (which means I haven't). 

The results of my last surgery combined with moving less caused me to start wearing a FitBit a few years ago so I could at least have some benchmarks of how much I am moving. I hit 10,000 steps nearly every day, and I also hit the other fitness goals I've set. But it still feels...not enough. It has led me craving more accountability, but that's tough for me. I'm all for accountability, but I find that I struggle with one size fits all solutions that don't take into account unique circumstances. And for me there's a thin line between accountability and obsession. 

I've used My Fitness Pal, and I know there are people who have had a lot of success with it. I find myself obsessing over every possible calorie, and then I beat myself up when I slip. 

I had a few friends recommend Noom, so I thought I'd try it. I had a free two week trial, and I had to struggle to make it 5 days because I hated it so much. First off I don't need 8,653 notifications a day, thank you very much. Secondly I didn't learn anything new. Of course some foods help you stay full longer than others. Here's my big problem there: I can't always eat those foods (including raw vegetables). I shouldn't often eat beans or lentils or quinoa or nuts. When I'd enter foods that I know I can tolerate and it would show them as "yellow" or "red" (read: limit those foods) I realized their one size fits all fitness method would never work for me because I have so many things I shouldn't eat. 

Then there are the daily weigh-ins. A few months ago a friend posted something on social media about diet culture: a system that values weight, shape and size over health and well-being. For the record this is a friend who has lost a ton of weight and is a strong bad ass. She works out a lot, eats very healthily, and is super inspiring. But I'd never heard of the concept of diet culture, and I went down a rabbit hole looking into it. 

For me Noom's daily weigh-ins are the epitome of diet culture. Asking me to pick a goal weight is too. What is my ideal adult weight? My lowest, 98 pounds, after having my colon removed? Nope. In 2014 when I trained for a triathlon I was about 12 pounds thinner than I am now and felt pretty strong. But honestly I'm bigger now and feel pretty freaking strong and good. So tell me why I should be focused on an arbitrary number (particularly given that I have a healthy BMI and am very strong)? For someone with body image issues daily weigh-ins are a mind fuck. Again, back to that thin line between accountability and obsession. My five days with Noom were interminable.

Here's the other outlier about a Crohn's patient with no colon: I poop a lot more than the average human. My height and weight may indicate I should eat a certain amount of calories in a day, but when I've had diarrhea 10 times a day for a week straight, all that goes out the window (and that's not an uncommon occurrence). Not having a colon also makes me really, really hungry. And there's nothing in any fitness app that can recommend the right thing for me. A chronic illness is a lot of trial and error.

So I've now deleted the fitness apps off my phone. I'm not weighing myself. I've decided to be mindful of what I'm eating. I'm writing it down in a paper journal like I used to so I can flag if something makes me sick. I'm exercising every day, but I'm not worrying about calories burned. I'm focusing on being healthy and strong. Period. There's no place for diet culture in my life.

Last week I tried on shorts that fit great last summer and are a little tight now. Am I my thinnest weight? Not even close. Am I my healthiest self? Not yet. And while accountability is important, for me I have to watch that line to make sure I'm not obsessing over my weight. I'm thrilled for the people for whom fitness apps have worked, and there's obviously not one solution for everyone. But can we stop talking about weight as the ultimate measure of health? The least healthy versions of me were when I was the skinniest: starving myself or after major surgeries and hospitalizations. Sure my booty is a little bigger these days, and sometimes I look like I just did a dozen push-ups just for the hell of it. I don't think I'll ever get over my body image issues, but I can focus on the strongest version of me instead of the skinniest. 

This photo is from a party we hosted in December. I 
hate how my stomach looks, but I love my arms. I'm trying
to focus on what I love and ignore the other bits.