The first goal in No Weigh: A Declaration of Independence from a Weight-Obsessed World is

I will accept my body in its natural shape and size.

The therapist noted that accepting it doesn’t mean that I have to like my body.

So what else about me do I accept even tho I may not like it? Well, my eyes. I’m terribly near-sighted. I can only see about a foot (30 cm) without my glasses. What’s worse is that I need bi-focals because I can no longer thread a small-eyed hand sewing needle with my glasses on. I have to take them off, which is a pain because I can’t see anything else with them off, so they have to go back on almost immediately, and I can’t put them up on top of my head because it tangles in my hair, and then I have hair in my face, and so on and so forth.

I don’t like any of that. However, I don’t hate my eyes. I don’t curse my ancestors for being myopic. I’m not mad that I’m aging and getting farsighted. I’m not saddened by the fact that my grandmother was myopic and farsighted. I don’t care that I wear glasses. I suppose I am a little sad that I can’t wear contacts; I can’t bear to touch my eyes, so even after practicing for 6 months, I couldn’t get the contacts out. I don’t like the way my glasses look in pictures, but I can just take off my glasses when someone else takes a picture of me. I don’t need to be able to see to do that. Have I considered laser surgery for my eyes? Yes, but even thinking about someone else touching my eyes makes me faint and nauseated. (I’ll deal with that one when I have to have cataract surgery.) I’ll stick with the glasses, thank you.

I love my glasses. Without them, the world is a big, blurry, scary, unknowable unknown. I’ve accepted my myopia. I’ve never felt like I was a failure or a loser because I wear glasses.

Next step, apply this concept to my body.

If only it were as easy to do as it is to say.