Taylor swift weight gain begore and after
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When she felt fat - usually after seeing a picture of herself or a magazine cover suggesting she’d gained weight or was pregnant - “that would just trigger me to just…starve a little bit,” she said.
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In Miss Americana, the much-anticipated Taylor Swift documentary now on Netflix, Swift articulates a similar idea. My body was societally acceptable, hewing the line of what a “desirable” white woman’s body should look like - which, by extension, meant that whatever I was doing to keep it that way was acceptable, too. I didn’t “go on diets.” But like millions of other people, I had a deeply disordered relationship with food, sustained by the knowledge that, hey, it seemed to be working. I was never skinny in a way that would be considered concerning. Not through hunger pains, which I’d disciplined into disappearing, but through a feeling of weakness and slowness when I exercised. My mind told me food was bad, and unnecessary, and easily ignored - even though my body, like every body, was telling me it was very necessary. But that surveillance did make me start consuming more calories, although never really enough, given how much I continued to exercise. I was embarrassed, because such a coordinated conversation meant that they’d surely been talking about me, and observing my eating habits, for months. If I only ate a bag of microwave popcorn for lunch - a “meal,” I’d later learn, that was a universal signifier of disordered eating - my friends would give me the side-eye, until one day, they sat me down and told me, “You’re not getting enough calories.” I’d eat Raisin Bran for lunch, then rice with peas, maybe with a little cheese on top, for dinner. In college, I’d spend 45 minutes on the elliptical machine, then spend an hour at an exercise class.