每當春日来临，你是否又要面对那不得不面对的问题——减肥？别人苗条、纤细、骨感，你却圆圆滚滚、满身赘肉，你是否又想把自己狠狠饿上几天？在不影响身体健康的前提下，追求健美的身材，无可厚非，但若因减肥导致健康受损，那真是得不偿失。本文作者是一个已减肥十年的姑娘，她为何对节食深恶痛绝？她究竟经历了怎样的痛苦？让我们一同来看。

每当春日来临，你是否又要面对那不得不面对的问题—减肥？别人苗条、纤细、骨感，你却圆圆滚滚、满身赘肉，你是否又想把自己狠狠饿上几天？在不影响身体健康的前提下，追求健美的身材，无可厚非，但若因减肥导致健康受损，那真是得不偿失。本文作者是一个已减肥十年的姑娘，她为何对节食深恶痛绝？她究竟经历了怎样的痛苦？让我们一同来看。

“Ive noticed youve gained a little weight，” Mom said as we sat in the car. I was 11 years old and my body was just beginning to hint at hips. She reached over， tugging on the new roll of stomach fat that was hiding under my t-shirt. “Getting a little pudgy1），” she teased.

Id been too busy feeling awkward that I was morphing into what adults called “busty2）” to specifically zero in on3） what my stomach had been up to—no good4）， as it turned out. I crossed my arms over my stomach， feeling the soft roll of skin and fat that was just above my jeans. I sat up a little straighter， hoping that would flatten things out5） a bit. I tried to suck it in.

Mom talked about how unnecessary weight gain can make parts of your body pudgy， flabby6）. “I guess I have noticed that my legs have gotten more jiggly7），” I said， looking down at my legs self-consciously.

“If you start dieting and exercising， you could get attractive， toned legs，” Mom said. She told me how a lot of adult women struggle with weight management， herself included. She hoped she could save me from the pain of yo-yo dieting8） as an adult by teaching me how to maintain my ideal weight while I was still young. If wed asked a doctor， they likely would have said dieting for an 11 year old was a health risk. But we didnt ask a doctor. My moms own body-image demons clouded her ability to determine what was truly best for my body.

After our conversation， Mom put me on a diet. She began monitoring what I ate. “Kelsey，” Mom said disapprovingly， “thats too much ranch dressing9）. You wont be able to lose weight if you eat your salad like that.” And she made sure I didnt have seconds10） after dinner.

“But Im still hungry，” I protested at first.

“Youre not really hungry，” Mom replied. She said Id stretched my stomach out through overeating， and it would eventually shrink back to its right size. In the meantime， I was going to be haunted by phantom11） hunger pangs.

The fake hunger felt awfully real， and it seemed to only get worse as more time went by. When I saw a celebrity on TV who had had her stomach stapled12）， I asked if it was something I could get. When I was told no， I decided that Id get it the moment I was an adult. Maybe if my stomach was surgically corrected Id finally feel full again.

When I lost weight， Mom celebrated. She encouraged me to pull out my flatter-stomach clothes that Id banished to the back of my closet. Id pull out my white form-fitting polo shirt and smile at my reflection. Mom would tell me how flattering13） the shirt was on me “now.” But then Id gain a few more pounds and the moment would be gone.

When I hit middle school I worried about my weight more than I worried about boys. I didnt understand that curves added weight—healthy weight. As my body began to shift into a curvier mold， I frantically tried to diet the weight that came with boobs and thighs away. I thought I was trying to manage my weight， but what I was trying to manage was puberty14）.

When I was diagnosed with asthma15） and given a daily inhaler16）， I didnt take it. My parents couldnt figure out why. I let them think I was an absentminded17） and irresponsible pre-teen. I was too embarrassed to tell them the truth： Being thin was more important than breathing. I didnt take my meds because I had heard steroids18） could cause weight gain. I knew this wasnt something other people would understand， so I kept it to myself.

How little I was eating became my biggest secret. And at some point my body and food anxiety crossed the line into abnormal anorexia19）. I started secretly skipping meals on a regular basis， cutting my food into tiny bites and then counting to twenty before swallowing so eating would take as long as possible. I tracked the most minor fluctuations in the numbers on the scale. Eating became more and more complex and anxiety-causing as I continually added self-induced restrictions to my already limited calorie intake. My obsessive eating-disorder20）-induced dieting sucked not only the calories but the joy out of life.

When I was in my early 20s I had a revelation about dieting after being very sick with the flu. Id dropped several sizes. When I stood in the dressing room I was shocked that Id lost so much weight. I had been pining21） after my dream size for years， and now I was smaller.

Id thought about dieting more than anything else for 10 years： This is what Id been living for. But the gratification from achieving a decade-long goal didnt last a second. My first thought after realizing the number on the tag： “Maybe I could go even smaller！” Maybe that would be it. Maybe then Id feel comfortable in my own body. Maybe then Id feel happy and beautiful and sexy. Maybe …

But then I came to the sad realization that the game was rigged22）. The elusive numbers Id been chasing—pants sizes， dress sizes， numbers on the bathroom scale—would always be replaced by a different， smaller number. When you have an eating disorder， you never reach your goal weight.

A new year is supposedly a time for fresh starts， but it always feels like the same old thing： Everyone is bombarded23） with fat-shaming and promises that well finally feel happy and whole24） in our bodies if only we buy the new latest and greatest dieting or fitness product. All of the magazine covers at the checkout stand will showcase new diets with claims that these are the magic tricks youve been looking for all these years. The local gyms will advertise specials， claiming “New Year， New You！” With all that diet talk， if Im not careful I could have a relapse25）， which is why celebrating how far Ive come in my eating disorder recovery is a necessary part of surviving January.

This year Im celebrating that I can now eat a bowl of potato chips without crying afterwards.

Im celebrating how last summer I wore a bikini for the very first time in my life， and I didnt go on a diet first.

Im celebrating that Ive gotten to the point26） in my recovery that Im able to work out without weight loss being the goal.

I lived on a diet for years. Dieting has controlled so much of my life. Its been the haunting， nagging， lying voice in my ear. This diet season， as others are setting New Years resolutions， Im celebrating recovery goals. Im celebrating that I learned how to eat again because life didnt finally start when I reached my goal weight. Life started when I finally told dieting to fuck off.

“我發觉你又长胖了一点。”我们坐在车上时妈妈这么说。我当时11岁，身上的胖刚刚开始在臀部显出来。她把手伸过来，捏了捏T恤下面我肚子上新长出的那圈赘肉。“有点圆润了哟。”她取笑道。

我当时的体型用大人的话说已经变得“丰满”，我只顾着为此尴尬，根本顾不上特别关注我的肚子已经胖到了什么程度─实际情况是，已经很胖。我双臂交叉，放到肚子上，能感觉到牛仔裤上方那圈软软的赘肉。我坐直了一些，希望借此能让肚子变平一点。我还努力吸气，想把肚子收进去。

妈妈跟我说过，不必要的增重如何让身体某些部位变得胖而松弛。“我想我注意到了，我腿上的赘肉都一颤一颤的。……