What’s your if-only-I-were-thin fantasy?

Let’s do something fun together.

We all know that being thinner wouldn’t actually improve our lives in the ways that matter most. I mean, you’re probably a smart, feminist person, right? And yet…is there a sneaky little part of you that would really, really like to lose a couple of pounds?

Rather than trying to shame that part away (stop giving into society’s beauty standards, self!), why don’t we just spend some time with that voice, and really listen to what it has to say.

I want to get really, really literal about it. So: take five minutes, grab a piece of paper, and answer these prompts at least 3x each:

  • If I were thinner, I would…
  • If I were thinner, I wouldn’t…
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I’ll play!

I’ve done enough personal work to know that my life wouldn’t particularly change if I were thinner.

And yet, I’m a woman who lives in the 21st century — there’s still a part of my brain that can get seduced by that “oh, wouldn’t it be nice to lose X pounds” thought train. I don’t take those thoughts too seriously anymore, and I absolutely don’t change how I eat because of them. But I also think — as I said above — that it can be more useful to investigate them than to push them away because we “shouldn’t” have them.

So in that spirit, here’s my “how my life would change if I were thinner” list as of Friday at 12:13 p.m.:

  • I’d dress better. I’d wear cute but comfortable clothes every day, have just-the-right casual yet pretty clothes to wear for going out to dinner or to a friend’s backyard party, and a small but very well-curated couple of dresses and maybe a jumpsuit to wear when I’ve got something fancy on deck (a wedding, a bridal shower, a night at the opera). 
     
  • My hair would look fantastic, all the time. It would be smooth, yet curly. I would know how to do a bunch of great hairstyles with it.
     
  • I would feel more “pampered.” (note from rational Katie: Wait, what the heck does being more “pampered” mean?) Well, I seem to be extremely well moisturized in this fantasy, and I’m not wearing month-old nail polish that’s 60% cracked off. I seem to go to yoga somewhat regularly, and I have somewhat-frequent massages. 
     
  • I would be more productive. Interestingly, it’s not like I work a million hours, but I seem to just be more diligent about getting everything done.
     
  • I would be glamorously social. Somehow in this fantasy, I am laughing with a flute of prosecco at a hip bar with a bunch of lady friends. I’m wearing a great going out top and skinny jeans. We’re all so funny and fabulous. 

...

I realized two things, reading this list. Maybe you’re already noticed them, too:

1. NONE of these things require losing weight.

I can do my hair, moisturize my hands, drink prosecco at a bar, wear cute clothes or just freaking get work done without losing an ounce.

Some people feel that because they have a larger body, they can’t wear cute clothes. I would ask if you’ve ever seen Tess Holliday? Or Kellie Brown? I’ve also been told by some past clients that their bodies are too large to find a good romantic relationship, but I’ve met people of all body sizes in very happy and fulfilling relationships (and I bet you have too).

2. There are a lot of good reasons why I have chosen to not strive for many things on this list.

For example:

  • Really good hair is high maintenance. I like to sweat while I exercise and walk outside without worrying about my hair frizzing.
  • Massages and a lot of new clothes sound really nice, but my financial situation will probably be the same regardless of my weight, and I feel good about how I allocate money to clothes and indulgences right now. I can enjoy these things in smaller ways, over time.
  • When I hang out with my friends, we do occasionally drink prosecco in bars, but more frequently we eat cookies on couches in their apartments. And I like it that way.
  • Also, I’m a huge introvert, and the idea of being “glamorously social” kind of exhausts me. It’s one of those things that sounds nicer in the theoretical novel of my life than in reality.

...

Is it possible that our “if I were thin” fantasies are:

(1)    available to us, right now, and/or

(2)    things we have chosen not to pursue?

Wouldn’t that be kind of crazy and amazing?

 

I’d love to hear from all you! What are your “if I were thin” fantasies? And do you really have to lose weight to achieve them? Share with all of us in the comments — I think it’d be fun to see what everyone gets up to!