on one of my posts, i was asked, "why thirty-six?" and indeed, aware that i do have some regular readers to this blog who are now probably acquainted with my want of that number, i think i ought to have a little write-up about just why thirty-six.
firstly, the stats: while thirty-six kilos may seem like a scarily thin number to be at on the scale, i am small. completely small. im 1 m 47, and that translates to about four feet ten. isnt that tiny? most girls you know will be at least about five foot. still, having said that, even for me, thirty-six kilos, or 79.2 lbs, is a bit thin. it comes to a bmi of 16.6. in my admittedly rather dark mind, i happen to think that's perfect. i happen to see that as dramatically thin, but not so that i will be too weak to live. 15 would be scary, though. there i'd never go. (or who knows, i might, if anorexia finds my heart) im 47 now, and i have about ten kilos to lose, but that's not too hard. i've lost that before. yes, i've been chubby for a while. two years, to be precise. of course the larger american public (what a pun) will tell you, "who says you cant be big and beautiful? who says you cant feel good when you're fat?" i'll tell you now, that from first-hand experience, you cant. firstly, to maintain such fatness, you'd have to eat a lot- and not the right kind of food either. this is unhealthy. because you're eating such unhealthy food, your internal system will be clogged up, not cleansed. this clogging will make you feel mucked up and gross and generally uncomfortable. (or who knows, you might be so used to it, you wont even notice it- but having been on both ends of the spectrum, as well as in the middle, i certainly did notice this) and i dont know about other fat people, but this is what i faced being fat-
a. i couldnt cross my legs properly because my thighs were so heavy. when i did, there would be a red mark on my knee where my other leg had been resting...precisely because my thighs were so heavy
b. as mentioned, when you eat as much as that- and unhealthy food too -you are going to be emitting a lot more farts. it's stinko. i'd never farted so much in my life until i became fat
c. you will generally feel more hot and sweaty. i was sweating all the time, feeling gross and uncomfortable, my armpits were stinking, i suddenly had body odour, the back of my thighs would be wet...
d. because you're carrying so much extra weight around, it's a lot harder to move yourself around. climbing up stairs can be such a great ordeal
so being fat, let me tell you, out of personal experience, those liars are only sour grapes, it's impossible to feel better fat than slim. (before you get at me, note the word 'slim' rather than 'thin') your body wants to be slim, lithe and healthy, not fat and overweight. they say genetics, genetics, genetics, let me tell you that genetics cannot predispose you to fatness, genetics only dictates the frame of your body structure, small-boned or big-boned, naturally thin due to a high metabolism or needing some work to keep your weight there. it's ridiculous to suggest that a person can never be slim or at a healthy weight simply due to genetics. people have taken this overboard. the human body- just like any other animal -was designed to be healthy and at a weight becoming of it. not fat.
anyway, so back to me, yes, while i have listed all this about being fat, i do know of the detriments of being thin- there's the feeling cold all the time and therefore having to carry a jacket around with you, but i can live with that. so why thirty-six, then, when 39, 40 or 42 would be such better numbers? (at those numbers im simply healthy, graceful and lithe, rather than kind of thin) 36 carries for me a lot of significance. you may know this already, but when i was twelve, i became slightly anorexic...my lowest weight was about 35 or 36. when i reached 36, i was thrilled...i remembered how when i was ten, i was thirty-two kilos and then one day, perhaps about six months later or so, weighing myself, i found myself having fast-forwarded to 36, which, i thought was overweight for my size. (i was indeed a little chunkier than need be at eleven years of age) that experience had jolted me, even scarred me slightly, so when i was twelve and the needle pointed at thirty-six, i felt...good. more than just good, very good. it signified just how thin and awesome i was. that i was able to turn back the clock in some certain way and face it squarely in the face.
of course even then, thirty-six was slightly too thin for me (i stopped growing for many years after i turned twelve, so i was about the same height then - i assure you this has nothing to do with my body weight, i have always been small) and a nice weight then meant something along the lines of 38 or 39, which, when i was thirteen, i fell to. still, even then, even though i was healthy and slim with a completely enviable body, i always wished secretly in my heart to go back to thirty-six...i just liked it. when you're thin and supreme and the whole world is in your hands. it's what thirty-six signifies and means to me, and then the emotional significance and memories attached to it too. the memories of, for example, being so thin and in control. of exercising like crazy and saying no to food. of feeling awesome precisely because i was that thin.
so i was about 39 for most of the time, the only time i ever went back to 36 was when i went for camp and very unintentionally lost a lot of weight...funnily enough, i didnt actually like it. at that point, the idea of thirty-six had then been far-removed from me and i barely cared anymore, and i didnt find my jeans hanging off me pleasing, i found it revolting. i remember checking out my lack of a bum in the mirror and thinking, "how funny if this had happened just a few years ago, i would have been so very pleased. but not now, not anymore." no, i dont want to be that person who said that. as a person, comparing to the other spheres my soul has been to, i think i prefer myself when i was either hankering after thirty-six or at thirty-six.
thirty-six has come to resemble a nest for me, my resting-place, where i belong. it's where i keep on going back to, where, when i am there, i know i am safe. it makes me feel comfortable. and i just like the number, you know? i mean, thirty-six is the very lowest i can go without being so thin people would call the doctor. thirty-five would, actually, but that is a bit extreme. i want to be just thin. just thin enough, living on edge. ask me why, no particular reason, other than...i like it. i just do. it's only a bmi of 16.6 it's not that bad. underweight, but whatever. that's the whole point, innit?
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