I know, I know… I should stop talking to my co-workers. I should especially stop talking to my co-workers about anything related to ED, weight or food. Here is a snippet of today’s winning conversation:
“We don’t want to look like those dancers at New York City Ballet; all chest bones and ribs,” says the girl who shares my office.*
“I do,” I reply candidly, feeling for mine which are no longer visible. “I love chest bones.”
“No. You have to own your body,” she challenges me. “You know, like Queen Latifah. Everybody loves her and she is all curves.”
Umm, thanks. You just compared me to an obese woman and told me to own it.
*This is the same co-worker who is responsible for her “F**k The Fat” statement. We spend an absurd amount of time discussing our bodies, calories and wine consumption. I know she means well, but she always seems to miss the mark. Skinny b**ch.