*TRIGGER WARNING for body image issues and disordered eating.* So I've lost like 30 pounds in the past year, not my idea, and I have crazy mixed feelings about it. As a person who thinks fat is beautiful and cute and comforting and just all around awesome, I hate it. I feel less sexy and not at home in my body, like I've suddenly been dropped into one of those minimalist industrial houses that's all glass and metal and concrete without a scrap of anything soft or colorful anywhere, wondering how the yuppie who belongs here is enjoying their new life in my "old home" full of soft surfaces and thick, plush carpets and upholstery and an atmosphere of warmth and comfort. I mean sure, it might have seemed tasteless to some ppl or "reminded them of their grandma", but it was cozy and homey to me. That's the side of me that loves every new pound and roll when I'm gaining, the side that pushes me to eat everything I want and even a little bit more because she gets off on gluttony and the thought of the number on the scale going upupup. She is dangerous because fat is never fat enough for her and things like immobility and heart attacks are the stuff of her daydreams rather than her nightmares. But this other side of me isn't totally hating it. The side of me that bases my self esteem on what other ppl think of me is loving it except for the fact that I'm still not really thin. That side of me is happy I'm not considered obese anymore, but she fantasizes about how much more everyone will love me when I'm not even overweight anymore, when I'm "a normal healthy weight" by bmi standards. And then thinks Hmm, what if I could actually become underweight, why I bet everyone would just die of jealousy if you could count all my ribs and I wore a size 00 just like a supermodel! This side pushes me to go as long as I can without eating and count every calorie when I finally do because she gets off on being hungry and the thought of the number on the scale going downdowndown. She is the side everyone is praising right now, but she's dangerous too because thin is never thin enough for her and things like passing out from not eating and being hospitalized to save her from starving are the stuff of her daydreams not her nightmares. I know not all FAs actually have a desire to be fat themselves and among those that do not all have succumbed to the cultural pressure to diet and be thin, but for me it's tough being stuck between the two extremes. It's like the only place I can't be satisfied with myself is the one place I SHOULD BE, when I'm at "a normal healthy weight", but for me it's more like an unhappy medium. Just wondering if I'm alone in this?