Skinny

this is the title of book i read recently from Canadian author Ibi Kaslik (http://ibikaslik.net). It's her first book and what an entry she made. it's an extremely riveting account of a early-twentysomething year old university student and her battle with anorexia. The description and characterisation of the voice in her head that tells Giselle Vasco "how fat she is" and "how dare she eat anything" is painful to read at times, but fascinating. It also gets into where her anorexia started.

it's particularly interesting because i'm researching eating disorders for a documentary project i'm working on. it still sometimes amazes me how many individuals grapple with the hell of eating disorders - male and female. studies indicate that girls start dieting as early as eight years old. At eight years old I was busy trying to either beat the crap out of my older brother or trying to wheedle something or another from my parents. It also helped that the culture I grew up in didn't really prize skinny women - it was all about "having a little meat on your bones" so I don't think I really got to be body conscious until after university. And that was thanks to an idiot I dated who probably had an eating disorder now that I think back.

So why amidst all the literature and information available on eating disorders, why something else? I think because being skinny is still the be all and end all of everything. Who remembers Kate Bosworth in Blue Crush? She looked amazing - had a real body, muscles, etc. Now she literally looks like a walking skeleton, in tres fabulous outfits - especially the shoes, but a walking skeleton nonetheless. And because most of us follow the celebrity lifestyle in some way shape or form, the more Hollywood idolises skinny, the more us non-Hollywood residents feel the need to be skinny.

Sheena's Place (www.sheenasplace.org) in their recent fundraiser talked about the increasing numbers of boomer women, approaching midlife, who were suffering from eating disorders. Call it the Desperate Housewife syndrome if you will.

All of this to say, check out Skinny, buy the book, spread the word, support our Canadian artists, and most importantly remember - bodies come in all different sizes and shapes; just think how boring we'd be if we all looked the same - in our little size 1-3 outfits. Then we'd probably be wanting to get fat just to be different...special...because often, that's all we're looking for...ways to be special.

parenting from a non-parent's perspective.

Growing up in a post-colonial developing country that was born and raised on British sensibilities, children followed the "seen but not heard" philosophy, corporal punishment was entirelyacceptable, and sassing/back-talking your parents was not something you wanted to do.

Moving to North America in my mid-teenage years was a bit of an eye-opener. Children here seemed to call the shots - you can call Children's Aid on your parents at the drop of a hat, warrented or unwarrented; spanking your child was almost illegal; children's opinions were given as much weight as that of an adult; and everything seemed to be about entertaining the kids.

Suddenly I resented the fact that I hadn't grown up here and I resented even more the fact that my parents weren't as cool as the parents over here - the ones who listened to their children's opinions, told them how special they were at everything they did and praised them at the drop of a hat, and basically jumped when the kids asked how high.

Fast foward twenty years. My friends are having babies, I'm contemplating it myself and I wonder "What kind of parent would I like to be?" Now, suddenly, my parent's "oppressive rule" doesn't seem so oppressive, especially as I watch the over-indulged, unaware, and unappreciative children of the next generation.

For this non-parent I think children should not be empowered to think they're adults; I'm not saying that we shouldn't raise our children to think and be critical and analytical in their thought but they need to be made aware that their opinions will be given as much weight as their age warrents. The reality is, their experience is limited and they don't know everything, even though they might think otherwise. We need to teach our children that "cute only goes so far" and as entertaining and charming as they might be, it's not enough to get them through life. Teach our children to understand that every choice they make results in a different outcome and if the resultant outcome is not to their liking, it's no one's fault other than their own - taking responsibility for their choices is critical in the development of an adult that doesn't blame other people for their life. Sometimes you have to do crappy stuff - life is not all about having fun, about being entertained or stimulated or constantly doing something - fun as that might be, life is also about chores, learning to play by yourself without the help of video games or television. And if you can find pleasure in the most mundane of things then you are miles ahead of most.

Am I speaking here theoretically?

Yes.

But I'm seeing first hand what happens when:
- children are not exposed to a cohesive parental unit
- chidren are made to belive they're adults
- children are given more power than they know how to handle and process
- children think it's their right to question everything adults say to them because a. they don't like what said adult is saying and b. they think they know everything
- children have no respect for the adults in their life

It's not a pretty picture.

Children need rules and structure and boundaries; they need their parents to be parents rather than parents who try to be their friends; most of all they need room to grow into the adults they'll become rather than being forced into adulthood early.

Thoughts from a non-parent.

pent up anger

I decided that I was too tired to walk all the way to the subway this morning and caught the Sherbourne bus down to King Street. The bus usually loads up at Sherbourne and Bloor; this morning was no exception. Everyone piles in and a woman with a small child - maybe about 2 years old takes a seat near to me. I think nothing of it. She looks to be in her mid thirties; Somalian by her garb.

A few seconds later a man gets on - mid-late thirties, glasses, white patterned shirt over jeans (I think). He walks by her and says, "What? You're too good to wait in line like the rest of us?" He continues to the back of the bus and then says, "Maybe when he's in jail like the rest of them, you'll remember what you taught him."

The woman looks shocked; then she says, "You know fuck you" in an accented voice.

Now I'm almost always a stickler for following the process, don't butt in line and all that. But then I start to wonder:

I wonder what right this man has to cast such a horrible fate on an innocent child.

I wonder if there's any compassion left for our fellow human being when I see a a mother with a small child subjected to this verbal abuse.

I wonder if this would happen if the woman was white.

I wonder what it means that I did nothing about it.

conscious thought

i'm in a really effed up place right now. all i want to do is disappear - just drop off the face of the earth so that i can go in my head and figure things out. except what i've learnt is that situations and issues follow you no matter which end of the earth you run to; as well, the more you try to figure out feelings with your head, analysing and positing about them, the longer it takes to get out of where ever it is you are. the trick to getting past something is to feel it, to sit with the uncomfortable feelings and go thru it; talking also helps but real talking, the kind where you are open, allowing yourself to be vulnerable without fear of being judged.

i am grateful to have a partner and amazing girlfriends that i can do this with.

i wish all it took was talking to get out of where i am. i talk and i talk some more and for a while the feelings subside. then they return.

i read somewhere that fear is faith in evil. yet i remain fearful.

i am sitting with my feelings.

fyi sitting with feelings suck!

and really, what does it mean to sit with one's feelings? is it like when you had to sit at the table, as a kid, if you didn't finish your supper?

it's hard work this "figuring your shit out." course if it was easy, we'd all have our shit figured out.

is there anything easy?

thankfully there's always tomorrow.

maybe tomorrow i'll find something easy.