I’m Done Letting People Judge Me For What I Eat

I have to deal with the consequences of my actions. Therefore, it is my business and right to choose my food.

I have insecurities—we all do. I am insecure about my looks, particularly my body. Sometimes I feel good about it, and sometimes I do not. Actually, most days, especially recently with nothing much more to do than eat, watch TV, and repeat.

If I get a bit annoyed or my reaction is less than ideal because you, someone I haven’t even known that long, has said something about my body, I have every right.

Pre-quarantine, I dated someone who told me that the way I ate was a non-negotiable for him. We continued to date, which still confuses me to this day, but he did not like that I indulged in Jamaican beef patties, pasta, pizza, and ice cream. I know those were not my healthiest choices, I also didn’t eat those things every single day. However, the point I want to get across is that no matter how I eat, what time of day it is, and how often I work those calories off are completely up to me.

I have to deal with the consequences of my actions. Therefore, it is my business and right to choose my food. Will I eat unhealthily to the point of jeopardizing my good health? No, definitely not intentionally. Will I have some cake at a birthday party, a drink or more at a happy hour, some candy when I’m at a candy shop? Yes. And again, even if I wanted more of those things, it is for me to choose.

I understand that I only have this one body to live with and that I should be doing my very best to take good care of it. I try much harder now as someone out of my 20s. I don’t fill it with nearly as much booze, carbs, and sugar as I used to. I didn’t know as much as I do now about good health; maybe I didn’t care as much. Luckily, that has changed, and I will continue to work toward understanding the importance of good mind, body, and soul health.

I want to be healthy, I want to look good, I want to feel good, and I know that it takes work to do those things. It takes movement and exercise, patience, thoughtful consumption, efforts toward positive mental health (which allows me to have compassion for myself), and more.

So to you guys, the one who complimented me on losing weight after not seeing me for a while, the one who tried pressuring me to work out with him whenever we hung out, and the one who “jokingly” told me to stuff my bra before meeting his friends: Fuck off!

Let me live. I go at my own pace. I already have all of society’s pressure on me to look a certain way. There’s only so far I can go in meeting those standards, and the truth is I don’t even want to.

Why do you?

To my friends and family, and “hot” guys with pretty much “perfect” bodies who never judged me, accepted me, and loved (or just liked me), thank you. Thank you for offering 100 times the positivity and acceptance (with love, care, and warranted concern for my well-being) for each fool who wanted me to be or look like anyone other than the awesome human I am.

About the author
A magical mixture of love and commas. Follow Mandi on Instagram or read more articles from Mandi on Thought Catalog.

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