It was her turn to take care of her young son. And it was in the morning, time to soak his skin in hot water in the shower, so that he would be very clean shaven when he shaved. His son was crying. He could hear it but he wasn’t listening. The voice of self-criticism was stronger. He said to make sure there wasn’t a hair out of place, not a bulge of skin. He was frantic, a normal morning ritual for him.

His son cried harder. His diaper was soaked. He missed his potty time, so he had to wet his diaper. The crying made him lose control of his bladder again, and now he was drenched. He was so upset that he couldn’t walk. He dragged himself to the bathroom where dad was. Daddy played a game with him to keep him from crying.

The game was in the balance. John (a fictional character), had to weigh himself. Another “normal” morning ritual. And the afternoon ritual, all normal, of course. It never occurs to him that there is something wrong with this obsession. It’s normal to look your best and be “healthy.” He needs to weigh himself twice a day, in case his weight gets close to an “unhealthy” level. He has just under 10% body fat, normal, he considers, for muscle-building athletes.

Only John is not an athlete. He works in an office and works out in the gym for 1 hour a day, five days a week. It’s too exhausting to do more, but that’s also considered normal, since he does intense workouts, aided by “healthy” shakes from him.

The same shakes your doctor recommended you stop. The same shakes the dietitian recommended her doctor told her to stop, at least for a while. the same shakes the allergist told her contributed to his allergies. The same shakes that the alternative health practitioner said were affecting his health. Of course, they are all wrong; nosy bodies interfering.

He is satisfied with himself. While his daughter plays the grief game with him, the crying stops. And he is 100 g thinner. So eating fat-free foods is perfect. He is very happy with his new diet; two shakes in the morning and at night, a low-fat sandwich for his colleagues to watch him eat at lunchtime, and meat cooked so well on a rack that all the fat oozes out of him. He is delighted. The new diet is working.

Smiling happily at his son, his son responds with a smile. Dad notices.

At that moment, his ex-wife rings the doorbell. She picks up her son after the night visit, changes his diaper and feeds him in the car.

John is glad she’s out of the way. He can now go to the gym and forget what she did to him. Like all women, she was a demanding useless woman who left him. And she was also fat. That stupid doctor refused to send her to the dietician because of her weight. The doctor had the wrong equipment. She couldn’t see how fat she was; unpleasant.

His mother is always slim, a real beauty. He had a happy childhood, always taught not to show his feelings, encouraged to be the strongest, leanest and most muscular man in high school. His mother is the best. That counselor he saw lied and told him that he had a bad childhood. Another stupid useless. His parents loved him very much. They sent him to the best schools, bought him the latest toys, gadgets, phones, and computers. They were a happy family.

He gets dressed and goes to the gym. She goes home to shower. He never showers in the gym. She weighs herself one more time, then dresses to go see her parents. Happy times ahead.