Same Same, but Different
When I was in Thailand for an eyesight mission, we went to several different areas with street vendors. Tables upon tables of display of affordable trinkets for prices I'm ashamed to admit we bargained even lower. Over and over we would hear the cry, "Same same!" from the next table, someone selling the same thing for equal or lower price. On our last day there, one of our team members found a shirt that said "Same same" on the front, and on the back, "but different". It is a phrase I use a lot, even though some people have no idea what I'm referring to. The idea came back to me this morning as I read a blog post from one of those infrequent bloggers I bump into from time to time. Here are some thoughts it provoked.
I am a picky person. I like to think I am graceful and tactful, but some things I just can't be bothered with. I feel it's my right, as a self-proclaimed rebel, to reject and share my opinions about these things. This morning I bumped into one of the very things that gets under my skin a little. A weight loss blogger who claims to've always LOVED exercise and activity, and still does. Not that I'm disputing that, maybe this person was an all-star athlete in their younger years, and maybe they fell on tough times. I get that, I used to be way more active in my younger days. But what makes it difficult for me to follow these types is that I cannot relate. I am not the cheery, I-love-to-workout type. I don't love it. I never have. Even in high school, if someone wanted to get together with me, it was always like, yes, let's bring our notebooks to a cafe and people-watch and write our careful observations. I'll be Hemingway and you be F.Scott Fitzgerald, and just for fun we'll call the Coffe-rama "le Cafe". No mountain climbing or cross country track and field for me. I hated gym class and would often fake period cramps or nausea to get out of it. I workout because I know I have to in order to see results and keep my ticker pumping out the life-juice. Don't get me wrong, when I'm doing it, it usually feels good, and makes me feel like I'm doing the 'right' thing (sorry Spike Lee), but I don't generally proclaim to love exerting myself. I like the results. Or, more accurately, I like to dream about what results consistency would bring.
That being the case, I have a hard time feeling bad for people who claim to love exercise. Their proclaimation may be the post-workout glow, or the emotional crush on the act of moving, or it might be absolutely true. Some people are wired that way, and I am envious of them. But then, why are those people having weight issues? I used to be so resentful of skinny little wenches who'd whine that they were "fat" in my presence. In my younger years, before I learned the art of tact, I abused those people with my abrasive opinions. I resented them for never having to struggle like I did. I was drowning in apathy and they were going to hear about it. As I've matured I've come to see things from others' point of view. No matter if you have five pounds to lose or 100, being unhappy with your body feels shameful and hurtful, it makes you feel like you are 'wrong'. In this life, I have wasted a lot of time idealizing others' lives, or my warped perception of them. Look at that family, so fit, so financially secure, they probably have a big beautiful house, great jobs and spend weekends on Martha's Vineyard. That is how fit people live. Everything is cut and perfect for them. I know better now. albeit oversimplified, life truly is what you make it. Nothing in life simply "just happens", no matter what you look like. And perception is often wrong. A lot of people with big houses do take nice vacations, but have oodles of debt hanging over their heads. And many of them are in unhappy relationships. And some people who look a little rough on the outside are the warmest ones inside. Sometimes its the struggle that actually makes you stronger. And sometimes, that struggle happens to people who love to workout and be active, and only have five pounds to lose.
There are a plethora of weight loss blogs out there these days, and so many of them are more inspirational and more elloquently written than mine. I appreciate you taking the time to check out my blog. It really does mean a lot to me.
Happy Wednesday, hope it's a great one!
I am a picky person. I like to think I am graceful and tactful, but some things I just can't be bothered with. I feel it's my right, as a self-proclaimed rebel, to reject and share my opinions about these things. This morning I bumped into one of the very things that gets under my skin a little. A weight loss blogger who claims to've always LOVED exercise and activity, and still does. Not that I'm disputing that, maybe this person was an all-star athlete in their younger years, and maybe they fell on tough times. I get that, I used to be way more active in my younger days. But what makes it difficult for me to follow these types is that I cannot relate. I am not the cheery, I-love-to-workout type. I don't love it. I never have. Even in high school, if someone wanted to get together with me, it was always like, yes, let's bring our notebooks to a cafe and people-watch and write our careful observations. I'll be Hemingway and you be F.Scott Fitzgerald, and just for fun we'll call the Coffe-rama "le Cafe". No mountain climbing or cross country track and field for me. I hated gym class and would often fake period cramps or nausea to get out of it. I workout because I know I have to in order to see results and keep my ticker pumping out the life-juice. Don't get me wrong, when I'm doing it, it usually feels good, and makes me feel like I'm doing the 'right' thing (sorry Spike Lee), but I don't generally proclaim to love exerting myself. I like the results. Or, more accurately, I like to dream about what results consistency would bring.
That being the case, I have a hard time feeling bad for people who claim to love exercise. Their proclaimation may be the post-workout glow, or the emotional crush on the act of moving, or it might be absolutely true. Some people are wired that way, and I am envious of them. But then, why are those people having weight issues? I used to be so resentful of skinny little wenches who'd whine that they were "fat" in my presence. In my younger years, before I learned the art of tact, I abused those people with my abrasive opinions. I resented them for never having to struggle like I did. I was drowning in apathy and they were going to hear about it. As I've matured I've come to see things from others' point of view. No matter if you have five pounds to lose or 100, being unhappy with your body feels shameful and hurtful, it makes you feel like you are 'wrong'. In this life, I have wasted a lot of time idealizing others' lives, or my warped perception of them. Look at that family, so fit, so financially secure, they probably have a big beautiful house, great jobs and spend weekends on Martha's Vineyard. That is how fit people live. Everything is cut and perfect for them. I know better now. albeit oversimplified, life truly is what you make it. Nothing in life simply "just happens", no matter what you look like. And perception is often wrong. A lot of people with big houses do take nice vacations, but have oodles of debt hanging over their heads. And many of them are in unhappy relationships. And some people who look a little rough on the outside are the warmest ones inside. Sometimes its the struggle that actually makes you stronger. And sometimes, that struggle happens to people who love to workout and be active, and only have five pounds to lose.
There are a plethora of weight loss blogs out there these days, and so many of them are more inspirational and more elloquently written than mine. I appreciate you taking the time to check out my blog. It really does mean a lot to me.
Happy Wednesday, hope it's a great one!
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