Food, Sex and Body Image – One of the Events That Helped Me Get Over an Eating DisorderI can’t believe the prompt is food and sex! Wicked Wednesday always
seems to tie with things I’ve been ruminating on…
seems to tie with things I’ve been ruminating on…
*Trigger warning – in this post I discuss body dysmorphia,
eating disorder and vagina size.
eating disorder and vagina size.
Ok, so I don’t share much about my inner demons here – this blog is my
happy place so I usually pour all that into my stories and leave this about the
giggles of life. But today, it felt right to share this story…
happy place so I usually pour all that into my stories and leave this about the
giggles of life. But today, it felt right to share this story…
I suffered for many years with a skewed vision of myself. My growing up
years where my body became a woman’s coincided with the fashion to look
emaciated – remember ‘heroin chic’? So for a person who already felt ungainly,
it was hard. I developed various eating problems and try as I might, never got
terribly skinny.
years where my body became a woman’s coincided with the fashion to look
emaciated – remember ‘heroin chic’? So for a person who already felt ungainly,
it was hard. I developed various eating problems and try as I might, never got
terribly skinny.
One day, I went to the sexual health nurse to get fitted for a diaphragm. In
case you don’t know, they are rubber Frisbees which you cover with spermicide
and insert into your vagina before sex as a method of contraception. The nurse
had laid out several of these little beauties ranging from, well, let’s face
it, bigger than what I thought should fit, to what the hell is that?
Before I’d even taken my pants off, she looked me up and down and
selected one of these flexible passion killers from the larger end of the
scale. What? I’m tall, but I wasn’t a
big lass (not from all that exercise and ‘dieting’).
case you don’t know, they are rubber Frisbees which you cover with spermicide
and insert into your vagina before sex as a method of contraception. The nurse
had laid out several of these little beauties ranging from, well, let’s face
it, bigger than what I thought should fit, to what the hell is that?
Before I’d even taken my pants off, she looked me up and down and
selected one of these flexible passion killers from the larger end of the
scale. What? I’m tall, but I wasn’t a
big lass (not from all that exercise and ‘dieting’).
“Um,” I giggled breathlessly, “Are you sure you want to try that size first?” I was horrified. My
mother told me when I was a girl all about how to look after my pelvic floor
muscles – telling me, not only will it
help during those delicate moments on a trampoline, but will also give me and my
husband-to-be a very wonderful sex life. I took her lessons very seriously from
then on. I felt sure nothing of that size would comfortably fit up there.
mother told me when I was a girl all about how to look after my pelvic floor
muscles – telling me, not only will it
help during those delicate moments on a trampoline, but will also give me and my
husband-to-be a very wonderful sex life. I took her lessons very seriously from
then on. I felt sure nothing of that size would comfortably fit up there.
And here’s where my body image got even more confused and insecure.
“Oh no, we might actually need bigger. You see, slim ladies carry less
weight all over their bodies, including the inside of their vaginas.”
weight all over their bodies, including the inside of their vaginas.”
“You mean, if you lose weight, fat disappears on the inside too?”
“Of course,” she said, snapping the wrists of her rubber gloves and bade
me lie back.
me lie back.
I jammed my legs shut, visions of gentlemen caller’s voices echoing for
days inside my cavernous chuff. All the pelvic floor exercise in the world
doesn’t prepare you for that thought.
days inside my cavernous chuff. All the pelvic floor exercise in the world
doesn’t prepare you for that thought.
“But, I’m not that slim, try a smaller one.” I was panicking. More
images of sausages being thrown up a close bombarded me and I wanted to run
away.
images of sausages being thrown up a close bombarded me and I wanted to run
away.
“Well, the problem is, if the diaphragm isn’t big enough, the penis might hook up on
the inside of the cap and sperm might get in to the cervix.”
the inside of the cap and sperm might get in to the cervix.”
But, from what my brain was imagining, the penis would not even hit the
sides, let alone make it all the way up to my bloody cervix.
sides, let alone make it all the way up to my bloody cervix.
In the end, it wasn’t too bad and she did her best to reassure me. The
fact that she had to push pretty hard to get this thing inserted went a little
way to calming me down.
fact that she had to push pretty hard to get this thing inserted went a little
way to calming me down.
So even a visit to the gynaecologist had me confused about food.
There was only one thing for it. I needed to sort out my vagina with
cake.
cake.
I went to the most beautiful deli I could and chose an enormous chocolate
muffin. I took it home carefully, made myself a large latte and got nice and
comfortable on my chaise longue. Then I shoved the entire cake up my fanny.
muffin. I took it home carefully, made myself a large latte and got nice and
comfortable on my chaise longue. Then I shoved the entire cake up my fanny.
Joking. JOKING!!!
Click pic for recipe |
But the experience did make me start thinking about internal
implications of an external aesthetic. What if a little bit of fat was needed
in other places too? Like to keep the internal organs cosy and safe, or plump
up the boobs a bit – or what about the brain? It must be needed for brain function, surely. Who knows, maybe we need a little ‘happy fat’.
implications of an external aesthetic. What if a little bit of fat was needed
in other places too? Like to keep the internal organs cosy and safe, or plump
up the boobs a bit – or what about the brain? It must be needed for brain function, surely. Who knows, maybe we need a little ‘happy fat’.
I began to take it a bit easier on myself – and began to feel happier,
healthier and best of all, with a cake fuelled vagina, sexier.
healthier and best of all, with a cake fuelled vagina, sexier.
So the next time you’re thinking of saying no to cake – remember –
your vagina might need it!
your vagina might need it!
That’s all I have to say about that.
If you need any help with sexual health – Brook is always a fab place to start and if
you think you have body or food issues please talk to someone you trust and your
doctor.PS. This post came from a place and time when I was insecure about every part of my body, not just the privates – this event was something that began to put things in perspective for me. If you’re ever feeling insecure about your lady garden (and you really shouldn’t ever) please read this amazing post by my wonderful friend, Exhibit Unadorned – who says, “cunts are magical things” – and I’m sure we all agree, yes, yes they are!
you think you have body or food issues please talk to someone you trust and your
doctor.PS. This post came from a place and time when I was insecure about every part of my body, not just the privates – this event was something that began to put things in perspective for me. If you’re ever feeling insecure about your lady garden (and you really shouldn’t ever) please read this amazing post by my wonderful friend, Exhibit Unadorned – who says, “cunts are magical things” – and I’m sure we all agree, yes, yes they are!