MThe conflict with food began before my birth. According to the family’s traditions, I could not satisfy, even when I was in the womb. I have consumed EverythingThis apparently exposes my twins that we were born prematurely. There are even stories about climbing to my twin bed late at night, stole a bottle of milk and replacing it with an empty bottle. I always felt hungry, but I quickly learned to link “need” ashamed.
In 2020, I began working on a novel about human meat eating for the mother and her daughter, who attract lost lives to their rural home in the forest and bake it in pies and ovens. It was not a conscious option to write about women who have a physical desire to enjoy the feasts, but slowly, and in the depth of formulation – a very physical work for me because I write in a long line – I realized that my relationship with food and consumption was changing. Exposure to these women, who are busy without feeling guilty or discouraging, forced me to face my relationship with food, and thus heal them in the end.
As much as I can remember, I was always so hungry. Without the adults around me, you were a child with autism, hyperplastic disorder and unbalanced attention, which means that my behavior towards food was complicated and difficult to nature. While sleeping, I remember I wanted to get the Advent Calendar for my uncomfortable friends. It was on the edge of its window, filled with the edge with sweet and delicious things that did not belong to me, but it had the ability to control its motives to keep it completely sound before the beginning of December. She arrived and pulled her from the edge of the window, and while other girls have created early bonds of lifetime friendships in the front room, she slipped under her bed and ate every piece of chocolate. She stayed there, hiding under her bed. Feeling began to guilty, but the teeth hurt me and the lips are sweet, there was only one thing I know with certainty: I wanted more.
Food is more Complex as I grew up. I only wanted things that I did not want, but I started to have opinions and rituals about food. It has become the worst thing that a little girl can be (regardless of greed): It is difficult to please. I had systems for my dignitaries, orders to eat things, and specific temperatures that I needed for my food, the textures I loved and hated. I have counted the chips to ensure that they are completely identical in size and number with my twin session.
Sometimes, I was sitting at the dinner table for continuous hours, staring at a whole dish of food, and watching it cooling and freezing, unable to eat because it was not the way I wanted. My behavioral often led to the bed without tea and an empty abdomen. To be greed. To respond again or make odors. For a snack in the middle of the night when you are hungry after extinguishing the lights. My identity has crystallized about my relationship with food.
I was a girl without friends and a hole in my chest cannot be filled. At this age, you start seeing the world differently. Suddenly, you feel a desire to become thinner. smaller. To take less space and be aware of yourself in every possible way. But you are not sure of the reason, because you have not learned terms like Patriarchal or Body deformation or Eating disorder yet. You just feel He – she Inside your body – that call to be smaller in all ways that you can make yourself.
I clearly remember that I was moving between the group’s groups in the school cafeteria, without enjoying any real attractiveness and I want to be acceptable by someone. anyone. So this place, where people gather for lunch, became a place where I felt lonely and empty.
I spent most of my free time in the school bath where I was vomiting all this hunger. I felt comfortable because whatever that is bad The feeling was inside my body, he went. Hunger was satisfied. Food looked like a way to bargain, restore control and independence when I was unable.
For years, I was moving between hurt in eating everything I could see, and starve myself. I even convinced myself that he was healthy. In fact, I not only felt healthy, but I felt it good You have the illusion of control. I did not realize what I was doing with my body until after I became more involved in politics in my twenties. It is too late, I wonder whether the autism I suffer had played a role in an unhealthy whispering with numbers. Count calories. The number on the scale. My clothes measurements.
But even at the time, I did not realize that my relationship with food was not unique, and that controlling girls and women through food associated coercion was not only common, but was fully encouraged through advertisements, media and popular culture. It was useful to be thin, and it is useful to be small. It was not only disgusting, but also insulting to be fat.
When I reached my early twenties, My body witnessed another shift. This time, my childhood was buried in a wide winding, a vibrating abdomen, and two slightly flabby armpits. My childhood was faded and there was nothing to do to keep it. At this moment, when the woman’s body stops appearing as young, Everything Changes. Its social currency decreases to scratch. People stop or listen to it. When a woman’s body changes in this way, when she becomes larger and takes more space than she was before, she becomes less in the eyes of the wider world. Almost invisible.
During this time, I was living from salary to salary. I was drowned in the open clouds, and I thought I would never be able to get out of it, and I had debts on the credit card I felt as if it were a massive wave. Every year, I remember thinking I am so big, I eat a lotAnd then I was delegated, and I look at the same body after a year of thinking Oh my God, were you blind? She looked great. I couldn’t buy healthy food to keep beautiful and slimming; Instead, I lived on a 5 -piece diet consisting of pasta and roasted bread and my body was growing up. This has become my fixed nature. The number in my bank account has affected the food that I put in my body and the condition of my skin. I could not withstand the costs of any of the miraculous treatments that capitalism and the cosmetics seem to offer on a silver plate. If you drink this Completed drink Or eat this DietYou will be skinny and beautiful. If you use this Sarcastic Skin care or expensive makeup, you will be perfect in Photoshop – Thus, value. My relationship with my body was cut off.
When I started writing, deeply described the issues of the body, independence, female, value, food, and hunger, I also had a strange ritual writing process related to food. You are always surrounded by food, and used it as a way to infection. I will keep my stomach as a hostage. I let it be filled if I achieve my goals and let it starve if I do not. But by the end of the writing process, this changed. I did not make myself hostage anymore. I became completely conscious of my relationship with food, to the extent that my relationship with meat and consumerism has changed mainly. While writing about the taste and texture of human flesh, I felt very anxious while eating meat. It became clear to me that I was using food as a currency and that my fragmentation with it had distorted my relationship with my body (its size and shape, how to treat it, and how I allow others to treat it as well). .
By allowing myself to slip into the minds of human flesh of human meat curiously and sympathy, I now understand why human meat is eating such a moment in our culture – especially with women. For me, eat human meat (in stories like Yellow jackets,, Specific hunger By Chelsea J. Samers and Earth’s sons Written by Siaka Morata) becomes a place for people to dismantle how honest Hunger They feel. Vomiting for every meal that is skipped or every time they make themselves young in a room they deserve to occupy an area in which; Every time a person is stripped of his independence. The narratives of eating human meat are not only a rejection of beauty standards in the prevailing culture, but also a symbol of independence and challenge against that system that uses food (something essential to our survival) for police and control bodies.
I will not steal any person’s Advent chocolate any time soon, but I am writing this conveniently immersed in the most delicious types of pasta and cheese that you can imagine. And what? It is a great feeling and I am happy to work. In the afternoon of eating human meat, I am greedy and annoyed in giving up.
The Lamb by Lucy Rose was published on January 30 by W&A at a price of 16.99 pounds. Buy a copy for 14.44 pounds sterling from Guardianbookshop.com
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