Eating With Thin Friends
The judgment I carried for years. And the friendships I almost lost to it.
The lunch
I ordered fish and chips. A big fried piece of fish. I knew I might not feel great after (GLP-1s and fried food rarely mix) but I wanted it, so I ordered it. And focused on the conversation in front of me.
Somewhere in the middle of coffee I realized something. I had not asked myself a single question about what I was eating. I had not wondered if my friend was judging me, or if the waiter was, or what dessert would mean.
The voice that used to follow me to every meal was just... gone.
The judgment I used to carry
Eight months ago the dialogue in my head went something like this:
Was I eating too much? Will I be judged if I have dessert? Or another glass of wine? Did she notice how tight my pants are? Did she notice I put on more weight? Is she thinking that maybe I should have ordered the salad? Is the waiter judging me for my order?
My friends never said any of this. They never thought it. I judged myself enough for all of them.
Eating with thin friends
Eating with thin friends all your life, when you are not thin yourself, leads to a lot of self criticism. My three closest friends are all thin and always have been. It wasn’t their fault. It was me. My constant judgment and comparison.
Sometimes I didn’t order dessert, or left half my fries to prove that I didn’t need to eat anymore. Who was I proving it to? Myself? Because when I did that I regretted not finishing the fries. And thought about them all the way home.
When I went out with friends who were overweight, it was so much easier. We all finished our meals. Had dessert. That second glass of wine. I didn’t think as much about it.
What it actually cost me
How many laughs did I miss because I was so in my head I couldn’t stop? These friends have been in my life over 40 years. We laugh a lot. And for years I was at the table but only half-listening. Joining the laughter a beat late. Physically present and mentally somewhere else, running the same judgments on a loop.
What I see now
I did not know any of this at the time.
The judgment was so constant it felt like the air. Not a thing I was doing, just how the room felt. It took the food noise quieting before I could even hear the other noise underneath it. And it took writing about it to realize I had been carrying it for forty years.
Some of this is hard to look at. I was so hard on myself for so long. The forgiving part is still in progress.
What changed
A couple weeks ago I wrote that I stopped hiding. But it was more than that. My head is quiet now.
The medication did not just quiet the food noise. It quieted the judgment underneath it. I did not know there were two kinds of noise until one of them stopped.
I now focus on how lucky I am to have such amazing funny women in my life, that just happen to be thin. And yes, soon I will be thinner too. But shedding the self criticism and judgment feels like the real victory. More than the weight.
Now I am going to take Jax for a walk.
If this resonated
I am writing every week about what I am learning navigating GLP-1 medications as a woman over 50. The stalls. The protein. The drug switches. The unexpected wins nobody warns you about.
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I love how gentle you are with yourself!