The Skinny on Sam – SkinnyFat
The Skinny on Sam
by Samantha Childs
One Client’s Journey with Nutritious America
I was skinnyfat.
This meant that I was slutty-Halloween-costume-ready (I’d been a slutty devil, a slutty 70’s disco girl, a slutty French maid, and a slutty Catholic schoolgirl among others), but only if I was wearing fishnets (they hid the cellulite). And I wore nothing belly-revealing. There are no fishnets for that. I could fit into small sizes (4-6 depending on the brand and week), but I had a baby muffin top, congregating mostly over my hips in the form of love handles. I hated it when I was out and boys in bars walked by me and casually touched my waist. Also, I had recently discovered that I could smoosh my belly with my hands and make it look like my lower intestines were bursting out of my body. This was not cute. (Don’t worry; I did not do this in public.)
However, I didn’t fully realize the gravity of my ‘skinnyfatness’ until I tested my muscle-to-fat-ratio by doing a full body dunk in the summer of 2011. I held my breath underwater in a large tub while balancing on a scale that looked like an oversized grocery store fruit scale and came up for air to learn that I didn’t even have a hundred pounds of muscle on my frame. Worse than that, I was a few pounds of fat away from being out of the “normal” fat range and into “unhealthy.” How could this be? Most of my clothes were a size 4.
But this meant that when my friends at Columbia graduate school (where I was currently getting my Master of Fine Arts in nonfiction writing) told me that I didn’t need to lose weight- that I was already tiny- they were wrong. I needed to lose fat. Or transfer it into muscle. (Or somehow bone- I wouldn’t have minded being a few inches taller than my 5’5 frame.) And sooner rather than later. This was because, cliché of all clichés, my ten-year college reunion was rapidly approaching. And I was single, without kids, and without an impressive sounding career like inventing post-its. (I currently worked two part-time jobs and taught memoir writing at Columbia- for free.) I needed to at least be hot. I need to look good in the Herve Leger dress that my mom had promised she would buy me if I reached my goal weight and stayed at it for a month. And I was currently fifteen seemingly monstrous pounds away. Herve Leger dresses are good at sucking it all in, but there is only so much one little dress can do. Plus, Herve Leger dresses do not look good with fishnets. You are lucky if you can fit underwear under there.
I had been one of the skinniest girls in my year at Claremont McKenna College. At a size 0 then, it had (sadly) been kind of my thing. “You’re so skinny,” Andy, the senior I had had a crush on in college told me one night when we were hooking up. (For the record, I call anything from kissing to sex hooking up. I am not going to qualify it here. My parents are going to read this.) “Is that bad?” I’d asked. “No, I like it,” he said. This had made me feel sexy. Desirable.
Me, as a slutty devil, pre-Columbia. Much more "skinny" and less "fat."
I couldn’t go back now to my old campus “smooshy,” as my parents had recently described me. (“You’re not fat, you’re smooshy.”) I couldn’t stand at the reunion to see the disappointment in the guys’ eyes or the smug satisfaction in the girls’.
Me at Columbia-smooshy in the middle. At my skinnyfat worst
Of course it was more than that (it always is). I was recognizing (admitting to myself) for the first time that, despite a decent façade, I was not healthy. During my summertime health kick, aside from having my fat ratio taken I had blood work done. Low protein. Anemia. Low vitamin counts. Adrenal fatigue. No wonder I was sleeping all of the time. I could sleep up to seventeen hours a night. That was a lie. I could sleep up to twenty-two.
And I couldn’t pretend that this was all not my own fault. I didn’t exercise. At all (unless you counted the five flights of stairs I had to trudge in my 1800’s walk up. I always reached the top out of breath.) I ate poorly. I drank too much. (I was addicted to hard cider- the most caloric of all drinks.) And I’d been a vegetarian for 15-years, yet took no supplements. Hell, I barely ate vegetables.
Then there was New York. True, my weight gain had begun months before I moved to New York (too many Cheetos while writing my Columbia grad school application followed by a celebratory cheese-and-chips-fest in Mexico definitely didn’t start me on the right track.) But, if anyone else was partially responsible for my weight gain, it would be New York City. The ‘kitchen’ in my Upper West Side apartment was the size of a cardboard box. I ate out (and drank out) all of the time, which was one of the main reasons I was also broke. In restaurants I ordered exactly what I wanted from the menus: mescalun salad, no thanks; four cheese ravioli, yes please. And even when I did go to the grocery store, it was like letting a seven-year-old loose to do the shopping. Werther’s caramels, blood-orange popsicles, string cheese, and Tostitos do not an adult meal make.
Plus I was dating. A lot. I had joined okcupid.com, after the end of a four-year relationship, in an attempt to meet someone in the city outside of my writing program (aka someone who was not gay) and it was definitely taking its toll. I’d gone on so many dates that I had to change my profile pictures- I uploaded the new, fatter me. Once I went on three dates in one day- brunch, lunch, and dinner. All with drinks. This was not helping things.
I knew that it could have been much worse. I was lucky to be skinnyfat and not plain fat. I didn’t have to put up with prejudice against me. And I could have had even worse health problems. I know that many people had much greater struggles. But I didn’t feel like me.
I wasn’t happy with my body; I wasn’t happy with my lifestyle; I wasn’t happy with my choices. I wasn’t happy period. Without much forethought, it turned out that it was time to do something drastic. After a random week at a childhood friend’s wedding and visiting my family in my hometown of San Diego, I decided to move back.
Henri was ready to leave the cold NY weather too!
Just like that. I was lured by the weather. Lured by the beach. The only real thing I had to work on (which I hadn’t started) was my graduate school thesis, which I could theoretically do from anywhere. A month later (after selling all of my things on Craigslist and scrambling to get a sub-letter) I took my French Bulldog, Henri, and moved into a cute apartment overlooking the Pacific Ocean. (The apartment had also been one of the motivating factors to get me to San Diego. Even my New York rooftop view of the Hudson couldn’t touch palm trees, grass, and the crashing waves beyond.)
View from my new window
I had decided that I was going to exchange drunken stumblings home from the bar with runs on the beach and hikes in Torrey Pines Park; and exchange truffle mac and cheese in Hell’s Kitchen for homemade quinoa salad in a kitchen of my own (which was now, thankfully, normal-sized). And I had decided that I was going to see a nutritionist. No starvation diets, no counting points, and no Atkins (which had been especially hard for me seeing as I was a vegetarian- I’d eaten a lot of eggs.)
Mostly, it was time to be an adult. (I was, after all, 31.) That meant dieting responsibly and healthily. And it was time to look like I did when I was 21. (Don’t forget the reunion- I needed results!) I wanted to do it right, so I decided to start this blog. It would hold me accountable- or at least provide some entertainment for my friends as I fumbled along.
So here it is, The Skinny on Sam. I’m Sam. And I am hoping that by April, the time of my reunion, I am just plain skinny, minus the fat. (More muscle would be ok too.)
Samantha Childs is currently writing her thesis for her MFA in Nonfiction Writing at Columbia University and posting her blog, The Skinny on Sam, every Thursday on www.nutritiousamerica.com.
Follow her on Twitter @theskinnyonsam
Share this :
About abra
Holistic Nutritionist and Healthy Food Advocate. Lover of all things green and glorious. Can be found singing showtunes and cooking kale nearly every day of the week.
38 Comments
Leave a Reply
Love the Blog…i went to the detox link…i need some detoxing. Going for a run even though i dont feel like it. your superhero picture inspired me
hope you are doing well. would love to cross paths again. sending you good skinny vibes.
You’re on top of the game. Thanks for shainrg.
This is a great article, full of heart and honesty, and I’m looking forward to reading more. I wish you all the best in achieving your goal, and I hope that along the way you also find some space to appreciate your beauty, as well.
Good luck!
Love it!! Can’t wait to read more posts. I really like your writing style – it’s fun to read. Yes, you are lucky to be skinnyfat. If I get fat, I’m fat-fat.
oh my- painfully honest and FUNNY!
Love the Herve Leger call out
Sam,
Your an inspiration to both skinny-fat and overweight people alike.You’ve got the determination and drive to succeed and i think the Ladies here at Nutritious America will make great partners in this Journey. Good luck and keep posting as you go on your adventures of Eating, The Gym and Modern life in contrast to the both…
From one skinny-fat girl to another: GO SAM!!!
I can’t wait to see more of your posts, Sam!
Thanks everyone. And a special thanks to the talented Jason Martinsen who did the fantastic drawing of superhero me and my sidekick Henri.
very clever
Love the blog, and especially the pic of you and Henri
Good luck and keep going!
This is COMPLETELY how I feel! A lot of people don’t get it-when you look skinnyish but you know you don’t look (or feel) how you want to. You did an amazing job of putting into words so many things that I have been thinking myself. You blog is inspirational for me. I needed a kick in the butt and reading your story and really being able to relate is a great start! Can’t wait to read more.
I told my grandotmher how you helped. She said, “bake them a cake!”
Haven’t come across anything this straightforward in a long time. Can’t wait to read the rest.
LOVE LOVE LOVE that you are doing this! I also consider myself skinny-fat but am too damn lazy to exercise. Reading your writing is like listening to you speak. That is what I love so much about your writing style.
Keep up the good work and I can’t wait to read more!
Love it! Let’s get skinny together
You have a great sense of humor Sam. I can’t wait to read about your getting healthy adventures!
Love it, Sam. And that is a pretty cute picture of us. New York misses you (and I do too)!
Sam, what a great blog! I learned so much more about you
And this is really encouraging and eye-opening to folks who think that out of shape means obese or grossly, visually overweight. The pics are great and im glad you moved back closer to home. I miss Cali but plan to go back. Looking forward to your next post! I am going to share this with my Forks Down Challengers bc I think it will be encouraging. Hugs and Luv to you!!!
Honest. Clever. Insightful. Raw. Inspiring!
You have truly put yourself out there, Sam. That takes serious courage. Congratulations!
I hope this blog helps you and many others, myself included. Im weak-muscled & indulge in cheeeeeze too! Time to grow up and start a do-able, healthy, food/exercise challenge… baby steps.
Sam that was hilarious. Your writing style really brings the words to life. I know this is soooooo cliche, but it is about leading a healthy lifestyle. That does not mean you cannot enjoy fun food or drinks. I had a glass, okay almost a bottle of an amazing Cab plus a Grey Goose slightly dry martini, but will be running tomorrow morning. It should be noted that I am way on the outer edges of the bell curve when it comes to working out. I really enjoy pushing to the limits. I think your ability to take a different perspective on Sam and make positive changes in your nutritional lifestyle is amazing. It is not about being skinny, but about being FIT both emotionally and physically. We will have to take on a hike, run, or workout soon. Keep the posts coming.
This was great! I love how you juxtapose humor with agony- the best defense against pain. Keep writing!!!
Sam-
I loved reading this, I’ve read it twice already. You are such a gifted writer. I can’t wait to read more. I am proud to be your friend because you inspire me with your courage and your honesty and your ability to show yourself ‘with your intestines hanging out’ to the world
I will keep reading and I’m hoping you will inspire me to start living a healthier life too…
Love
V
Love it!! Can’t wait to read more!! Good luck!!!
I love you for sharing this, Sam! And it just so happens I am also enbarking on a kill-my-skinny-fat-ass journey starting tomorrow. I am sick of that feeling you mentioned above… “But I didn’t feel like me.” And you remember how I used to be when we first met. Well somehow it all got lost, and somehow it has to be regained. The muscles, that is.
I am going to share this right now. But is there a way, I wonder, to subscribe to this blog through my FB? I am with you girl! Here we go. Much love and positive motivation to you.
P.S. I’m sorry I missed you while you were in NYC too. Xo
Amazing literary talent!! You are off to a great start. I would suggest looking into a month or two of sessions with a good personal trainer to address specific muscular training areas as well as the nutrition support.
The knowledge you could glean from this support may prove invaluable. Venture on – - and enjoy being ‘home’. A big hug from your extended family
Great blog, Sam ! Congratulations on making the choice to live a healthier and happier lifestyle. You should consider sharing your experiences and knowledge with students at junior high and high schools in San Diego !
good read!! Is it sad that “skinny-fat” is my goal?!
Great story – generous, insightful, humorous. Superb writing, too. Eagerly awaiting the next installment – and give Henri an extra hug for me.
Hi Sam,
So funny, so honest and so America today. Keep writing as you are reaching a whole group women out there with a little muffin top. I had to smile when I saw your picture of Henri as I remember your family always having a BIG dog. (We lived near your parents for several years).
Keep up the good work and I look forward to your next blog.
Hey Sam!
Love the blog! Keep it going! You can do it! You’ve inspired me to maybe do something similar and you can take all the credit! I’m trying to get in shape.
Abra and I are so proud of you, Sam. Enjoy the process, it’s an amazing one. You are an inspiration!
PS, You should start a club. Sam’s club!!! (and no not the east-coast version of Costco)
Sam: A raw, honest, insightful and beautifully crafted piece.
Obviously, many readers were touched by the first installment.
And Henri, well, he certainly can mug. All the best in this most
excellent endeavor.
Sam:
I’ve never met you, but I’m rooting for you just the same. Your blog is very well written and funny – but not! I’ve been there (ask your dad).
Keep it up and keep ‘em coming!
Thanks, Sam, very nice work! Men do not have muffin-tops, I suppose? It must be called something else, something more masculine. Once upon a time, I couldn’t gain weight if I tried, but no more. I will visit you here, and congratulations on your endeavors. I know you’re going to go far.
Great writing. Looking forward to seeing how your fitness adventure turns out…
Pingback: My Homepage