Let Us Break Bread Together...

More like my childhood: Robert and Vivian DeRosa share
Sunday family dinner; a long-standing tradition as
Robert grew up in the same home.
Age: Robert 60, Vivian 55  Time: 5:59 PM
Location: Fresh Meadows, Queens

     When I was a kid, I ate dinner nearly every single night with my family. All five of us would sit around the dinner table and focus in on each other and the food my mom prepared.  I realize that sounds a bit like something out of Leave It To Beaver, but that's truly what we did.  It happened, in no small part, because my mom ensured it did: she was convinced that having a daily meal together as a family was essential.  So, even though her days were busy, my father was self-employed and spent most of the day and night working, and my sisters and I all had numerous after-school appointments and activities, it was a rare evening when we didn't sit down as one family and eat together. 

Story Donich, a 2 year old has dinner
while watching cartoons on her iPhone.
Age: 2  Time: 6:31 PM
Location: Sunset Park, Brooklyn

    I couldn't help but think about this when reading about a project called "Dinner in NY" by photographer Miho Aikawa, which explores the ways in which New Yorkers eat their dinners and, more importantly, what they do during dinner. In his introduction to the project, Aikawa notes that a study recently noted that we "now do almost 50% of our eating while concentrating on something else," and his photos illustrate this clearly: a large number of his subjects are watching TV, browsing the internet, and using their cell phones.  Even a two-year old child watches cartoons on her iPhone while her parents seem immersed in their own private thoughts.

  

    Aikawa makes a strong point: although we're spending a large part of our eating time focusing on other things, we're spending more time eating: approximately 25-30 minutes more daily than 30 years ago. Not only is all of this extra eating time likely to mean the consumption of more calories, as it's hard to know when you're full if you're distracted by other things, but it doesn't seem to provide more enjoyment. We're spending more time eating and less time really experiencing our food.

Jessie Zinke, a designer, has leftover for dinner on
her bed, while watching her favorite TV show.
Age: 27 Time: 6:54 PM
Location: Chelsea, New York

   I recently started my attempt to follow Geneen Roth's eating guidelines, and was most worried about the one that says: 

 "Eat without distractions. Distractions include radio, television, newspaper, books, intense or anxiety producing conversation and music." 

Yikes.  Although I'm a huge fan of eating, I'm not entirely sure if I enjoy it on its own or if it's the combination of eating and reading, eating and being on the computer, or eating and watching TV that really gives me pleasure. Afraid of being alone with my own thoughts or, worse, suffering the ultimate hell of <gasp!> boredom, I really, really didn't want to follow this guideline.  It took me a couple months to really commit to doing it at every meal. After a week or two, I was shocked to find that even eating with another person was too much of a distraction for me.  I'd become meditative about my eating experiences.  I really tasted my food, and I was much more in touch with the ways in which my body responded to it.  My thoughts became friends, and I learned to be so much more comfortable with silence and stillness in other aspects of my life.  

Looking at Aikawa's project from that perspective, then, makes me a bit sad to see how many people spend their mealtimes distracted.  Where before I would have seen joy, I now see a kind of "half-life" because it seems that the people depicted are experiencing neither of their activities fully. 

I can only hope that people will continue to find ways to connect with their loved ones and their food: some of the most hopeful photos in this project, to me, are the ones that show people eating while talking with loved ones: on Skype, over a speakerphone, or even at the same table.  Although I really enjoy my food when I focus in on it by myself, it tastes even better when I'm eating it with someone I love.  As Aikawa says, "When you enjoy mealtimes, you're more likely to eat better."  I hope we all find more ways to enjoy our mealtimes and be there fully when we're eating. 

All photos by Miho Aikawa

Living With Your Body…For Life

“I hate my thighs – they’re too big!” 

Although it’s distressing to think of any person hating their body, it’s especially hard to hear statements like this coming from girls as young as six and seven years old. Of course, each era and fashion trend conceives an ideal body image, and women of all ages end up comparing their bodies to that type, but it seems that only in recent years have very young girls joined in on this unhealthy activity.  Sadly, most people who participate in comparing themselves find their bodies lacking, and although few go so far as to become obsessed, I think there are far too many women with a negative view of their bodies.

     Yesterday, my friend S and I ended up discussing the issues so many of us have with our body image.  We bemoaned the effects of the media, discussed young girls we know who are already comparing themselves to the "ideal," and even talked about the cultural differences that seem to support or deny these kind of comparisons.  S had recently attended a baby shower for an African-American couple we know, and spoke with awe about the gorgeous Black women she saw there. She was amazed at how comfortable they seemed in their own bodies and marveled that the women were unafraid to be seen eating in public.  (What kind of world do we live in where it’s unique to feel comfortable eating in front of others?)  I get what S was saying; I distinctly remember a time I went out with some female acquaintances and directly experienced the ways women pressure each other to feel ashamed of food and eating.

Is this a dinner?

      On that night, a group of women in a social group I’d joined got together for dinner after shopping together. There were about 10 of us, and when our waitress came up to take our orders, I was the first person she turned to.  I’d planned on eating dinner and was quite hungry, so I ordered an entrée (complete with protein, starch, and veggies) and added a trip to the restaurant's healthy and fabulous salad bar.  As the women to my left gave their requests to the waitress, I noticed that the amount of food each one ordered was smaller and smaller until we reached the last woman.  She ordered a cup of soup. For dinner. She gave us the beatific look of a saint among sinners, and many of the other women looked chagrined and even angry.  When the food arrived, there seemed to be a competition to see who was the least hungry (and, thus, most virtuous) as several of the women pushed nearly full plates away, saying they were "stuffed."  I was appalled, but I still had to fight hard to eat the amount of food my body actually wanted, because the urge to join them in starving was very intense.  Mind you, this was with a group of women I didn't know well nor particularly admired. Imagine if they'd been mentors or idols of mine! 

     I’ve fought with food and body issues for most of my life.  It’s scenes like the one above that drove me to eat tiny portions around others, then binge when I was alone and safe from judging stares.  I hate to think of what that environment is doing to the women I know, their daughters, and any future children I might have. 

     Yesterday afternoon, I came across the following quote in a comment Nancy A. made to a blog post by Claire:

I went to a Catholic school, nuns and all, and I had one crusty teacher who used to get on the girls' cases about body image. That wasn't the term used back then, but that's what she meant. Anyway, if she ever heard any of us complain about our bodies, you know, "I hate my elbows!" she used to march us up to the mirror on the back of the classroom door, make us look at our elbows, and apologize to them--because those were our elbows and we were going to have to live with them for life. Believe it or not, for a gawky 13-year-old, the idiotic words "I'm sorry, elbows" (and we had to say it out loud in front of her) is remarkably cathartic! It brings great inner peace. It lets go of the noun-clutter of objects and brings life back to just living.

I loved this idea!  Although I’m not sure that the logic used by Nancy’s teacher is the entire reason we need to make peace with the body we currently have, I do think that apologizing to your body is a great step towards learning to love it.  We all have different bodies, but there is something lovely about every single one. S mentioned that she wished she could do something to help women see that loveliness, and perhaps Nancy’s teacher’s technique is one of those ways.  Maybe, in addition to apologizing to our body, we need to have a conversation with it, view it with our own eyes without the “noun-clutter of objects” and see what we, personally, find beautiful about it.  

Although it’s more of a tactile than visual experience, I have to say that one part of my body I enjoy is my belly, which is much, much larger than I’d like it to be (because I’m comparing it with the way I’m “supposed” to look, mind you…otherwise, how would I know how large it’s meant to be?). Regardless of its size (or perhaps because of it?) my belly is extremely soft, not just because of the fat below the skin’s surface, but the skin itself: it's like a baby’s.  I have no idea why that is, but the contrast between the immensely appealing texture of my belly (and the calming sensation of having this “forbidden and ugly” part of my body touched in a loving way) causes great consternation in my soul.  I think it may be because an appreciative view is so at odds with the highly negative way I usually regard that part of my body. This experience makes me think it’s quite possible that one of the best ways to challenge our media-influenced views of beauty may be to honestly assess how we, ourselves, view our bodies.  What do we like, regardless of what society might say?

Beyonce and her incredible thighs...

Last night, after the conversation with S and reading this quote, I found myself flipping through channels and landing on the first installment of Oprah’s Surprise Special.  One of the performers was Beyoncé, who was wearing a modified tuxedo that ended at the top of her thighs.  Her toned and gorgeous legs were very much on display as she danced with incredibly energy and skill, while singing about the way women run the world.* In spite of the excitement and inspiration I felt as I listened to the words she was singing,  I realized that I was, subconsciously, comparing the width of her thighs to the size of the dancers’ thighs around her and to the ideal I, apparently, keep in my head for important times like this. What is that insanity and why is it in my head?  I had a crazy conversation with myself about Beyoncé’s thighs and whether they are too big.  How insane is that?  I worked hard on convincing myself that her legs are absolutely gorgeous and, obviously, very functional, but I can’t help the feeling I have that somewhere in my brain is the belief that she needs to be skinnier.

Sigh.  Obviously, it will take a lot of hard work to uncover and destroy the millions of messages I’ve taken in over the years about how women have to be in order to be beautiful and worthy.  I think the fight is worth it, though—if not for us, then for the girls who follow us: we all deserve to feel good about our bodies, even our thighs!

For more discussion of loving our bodies and the disturbing trend towards emaciation in our "role models," check out my post entitled "Sexy?".

*You can see Beyoncé’s performance in this video. It’s amazing!

Sexy?

   I recently came across the following photo, which features Victoria "Posh" Beckham, posed to sell Armani lingerie.

Sexy? More like "scary!"

   I found the photo in an article entitled Victoria Beckham bends over backwards to look sexy in another smouldering Armani lingerie ad. Obviously, the marketing team at Armani believe that Beckham looks the way one would want to look while wearing their lingerie, since it's hard to sell clothing by featuring someone wearing it that looks awful. People tend to buy clothing that looks beautiful and sexy on others in hopes that we will look just as good, simply by putting it on. That fact, plus the title and copy of the article, lead me to believe that more than one person finds Posh attractive in this photo--some even find her "smoldering."

   Count me out. I find this photo incredibly disturbing. After I noticed the lovely contrast of shadows on her skin, the shocking realization hit me: those shadows were caused by the incredibly deep hollows of a human being's emaciated body. I immediately thought of the black and white photos I've seen of concentration camp victims during the holocaust. And of the body of one of my dear friends, who has battled anorexia and won, but still has trouble with feeling okay in her own skin, in spite of the fact that her wrists look like they could be snapped by a stiff breeze. In a word, this photo is scary.

   I shared it with a group of women I respect deeply, with whom I had bonded over a common dedication to losing weight in a healthy, slow way. Since we've expressed similar views on health being far more important than one's weight, I felt sharing this with them would mean sharing it with like-minded people. Much to my surprise, while some found the pose itself to blame for Posh's razor-like hip bones, the majority felt that the photo was not scary, as I believed, but very sexy. Some even expressed that they wish they looked as she does. This was enough to have me sobbing in my nutritionist's office...sobbing for me, for my sisters, for the young girls who are being influenced by this even now, and for these women, who, even in their dedication to health and feeling good about themselves, have been unable to exorcise the demons of media-defined beauty.

   Please know that I'm not saying that I find thin bodies ugly. Naturally thin and healthy bodies, such as my friend "M" has, are both lovely and sexy. I know M well enough to be fully aware that she eats regularly and healthfully, and that her thin body is a natural shape for her. She's an avid runner, and this ensures that she's usually very slim. M radiates health and peace from her willowy frame.

   I think, frankly, that there's beauty in every frame. As Eve Ensler said, we all need to "love our tree," whatever the shape of our trunk and branches. I don't want even Posh to feel bad about how she looks. But I find it difficult to believe that Posh's shape is a result of healthy living. I think, instead, that she's suffering from an eating disorder, and the media has chosen to glorify the results as the pinnacle of beauty. It's a standard which few can meet, and most who try will find themselves ill or even dead as a result.

   I am trying my best to feel good about who I am and who I will be when I reach my goal weight. I'll have hips--juicy ones, at that--compliments of my Eastern European ancestors. I'll have high cheekbones and chubby cheeks. I have large "curves" above and below. And though I'll have hipbones, they are unlikely to cut like a knife. I'll have thick, powerful legs with defined muscles, and my arms, though slightly flabby underneath, will be muscled too. I'm almost there in some areas and still working on it in the meantime. But I hurt when I think about how others feel about their own bodies as a result of photos like this one of Beckham. I wish there were some way for me to flood the industry wth images of beauty that show women's shapes in all their glory. Here are two images that do that...though the first is more inspirational (the second is just funny...):

Nike "Big Butt" Ad

Curves "Motivational" poster

   What do you think? Are you able to escape the media's definition of beauty? How can we deal with this issue? I'd love to talk about it!