Q&A interviews are an interesting part of my job. I do a project. I promote it. I attend screenings and after there’s usually a question-and-answer portion. There are a few questions I’ve gotten used to answering. “What was it like working with the cast?” “Were there any on-set pranks?” Stuff of that nature. But every once in a while, someone will approach me after to ask something they didn’t want to say into a mic in front of a large crowd.
That happened recently, at the Provincetown Film Festival. I was there to promote my movie Brittany Runs a Marathon, which tells the story of a woman who feels stuck in her life and decides to set an epic goal: to run the NYC marathon. It’s based on a real woman—the amazing and inspiring Brittany O’Neill—and is the first script I’ve read that really showcased the highs and the lows of a transformation tale. I was inspired to go through the same physical journey the character takes on in order to prepare for the role, so I started running. And I lost 40 pounds, like Brittany did. It was hard and emotional, but it connected me to the character in a way I hold very dear.
But back to that Q&A in Provincetown: After, a woman approached me and asked if I found myself feeling more confident in my own skin after I lost the weight. I told her the truth: No.
For me, I was less in my head when I had a little more body to my body. When I lost weight, however, I was constantly comparing myself to other women. “Am I bigger than her?” I found myself thinking. “Smaller?” At times, I was frustrated when people didn’t comment on my weight loss. But if someone commented in a way that felt hurtful to my old body, I was upset too.
The woman’s question had me thinking about all of this. So when I came back to Los Angeles, I continued the conversation with my good friend and fellow actor Vanessa Ray. Vanessa and I often sound like mad scientists—like we’re one step away from figuring out the cure to the dreaded “I hate my body” disease. On this particular night, we got into a discussion about all the different bodies we’ve had throughout our lives. I was skimming through pictures of me at my skinniest and at my heaviest and telling her that in both of the pictures I had times of confidence and also times of insecurity.
I realized in both of these bodies I had experienced love and loss, laughter and tears, first kisses and kidney stones. (Kidney stones SUCK, by the way.) Both bodies had experienced panic attacks and movie premieres and way too many nights in watching The Office. We thought, “What would happen if we tried to celebrate all stages?” What if everyone saw old pictures of themselves and stopped judging those women? What if we focused on the experience we were having at the moment, rather than whether or not our pants look too tight?
