heavyweightheart:we really can’t overstate how dam

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heavyweightheart https://heavyweightheart.tumblr.com/post/642240900365467648/we-really-cant-overstate-how-damaging-it-has-been :

we really can’t overstate how damaging it has been to indoctrinate the public with the idea that if they let themselves eat as much as they want, they’ll eat too much. human bodies, when permitted over the long term to eat as much as they want, actually get really, really good at calibrating their hunger and satiety, and will over time eat exactly the right amount for themselves. the common conception of a balanced eater as a minimal or restrained eater is absolutely wrong. balanced eaters eat quite a lot (compared to diet cultural ideas about right intake amounts), and they do so consistently and permanently. healthy, balanced eating isn’t some tightrope walk, it’s a gigantic net of total permission to eat. (Your picture was not posted)

walburgablack:i don’t want a beautiful life.(i jus

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walburgablack https://walburgablack.tumblr.com/post/649007331941711872/i-dont-want-a-beautiful-life-i-just-had-this :

i don’t want a beautiful life.

(i just had this thought, bear with me here.)

i want a life of pressure-cooker whistles and sweeping your hair off the floor and being terrified of cockroaches and that one tshirt that soaked all the colour from my kurta which still bleeds pink six washes in. i want a roast garlic, watering tulsi, ducking pigeons and watching hornbills life. i want beautiful moments in it, sure, but wildflowers in jamjars and half-finished embroidery and books overdue at the library because you keep distracting me. that’s the sort of beauty i want in my life, the accidental kind that leaves me enough time for wasp-stings at the museum and long phone-calls with sad friends and editing my baby sister’s papers.

i am so tired of wanting to make things pretty when i barely have energy to make things at all. i want to cook six chicken recipes this week and not care when they get five likes each on insta. i want to fill my fancy bowl with mushy potatoes and sigh wistfully about cats i have loved. i want to curl up in your arms and bitch about the novel that’s been keeping me up nights and not care that stress-eating is stretching out my waist-line all over again, that my nails are bitten to the quick, that my skin is awful and my hair unruly.

i want to stop wanting a beautiful life. (Your picture was not posted)