As a kid, I didn’t think much about my
size. I played with the kids in the
neighborhood, rode my bike a lot, went swimming, and played softball. It didn’t occur to me until about 5th
grade that I did not shop in the same stores as my friends at school. My mom couldn’t keep her belittling comments
to herself as we walked thru the aisles of Hills. “I can’t shop for you in the girls department
like the rest of the moms.” She would
hiss at me and my sister in disgust. I
don’t recall ever running into someone we knew while clothes shopping, so I’m
not sure why this was such an embarrassment to her. In her barbed statements I recognized that I
should not be proud of my body or its size, but I didn’t know how to make her
happy. (I still don’t but that’s for another therapy session.)
These feelings of inadequacy continued as I
hit puberty. My mother continued to demean
me, and as a result, I became sneakier about hiding food/eating the food I
wanted. In eighth grade, I gained a
considerable amount of weight, and as a result grew out of a lot of clothes
that I had been able to wear at the beginning of the year. When softball season began for the summer, I
could not fit into the pants for my softball uniform that I had worn the
previous year. I wore gray sweatpants to
our first game, feeling mortified that I was not wearing the same pants as my
thin teammates. My mother took two pairs
of pants home and sewed them together in order to make one pair of pants that
would fit me. She expounded loud and
long about this arduous task, which only served to make me feel even more shame
and degradation.
Much of my body hatred continued throughout
my teenage years. Mostly I tried to be
invisible and ignore the bullies like a good girl should/as I was told to do. It
took all of the courage in my being to go to school. There were times when I contemplated ending
my life because I felt that I was so horrible and disgusting. Food made me feel better – if only for
moments at a time – and I often watched movies after my parents had gone to bed
while eating a pint of ice cream.
Looking back on it, my own self-sabotage did not help me. It only added to the self-loathing when I
woke up the next morning and felt guilty for the things I had eaten the night
before.
In my twenties and thirties, I continued to
struggle with my size and wish for a fairy godmother to grant me a smaller, normal
size body. Even when I went to pick out
my wedding dress, I picked something conservative and concealing because I knew
that finding something that made me feel like a beautiful princess really was
the fairytale. That was only for skinny
girls after all; I should be glad that I found someone to marry me at all.
Now, I don’t want you to think this is sad
or pathetic because in a lot of ways it sounds like that is what my entire life
has been like in relation to clothes and food and trying to come to terms with
my size. I have experienced many moments
of sheer joy and happiness about being alive, and those are the times that have
kept me pressing forward when the darkness came around again.
These moments are difficult for me to
relive and talk about because I am not in that place anymore. My goal is to move forward and not dwell on
the past. Recently, I came to grips with
a lot of the things I had settled for because I didn’t think that I deserved/could
do any better. I’ve taken stock of what
works for me and what doesn’t. And I’ve
begun to weed out the “doesn’t” column systematically. It’s a very liberating process, but it
doesn’t happen overnight. Nothing that’s
worth it comes easily. And here are the
truths I’ve learned:
1) We are not all supposed to be the same size. Even babies weigh different amounts when they
are born – hello!
2) Hating your body does not change anything. It never has and it never will. So I allowed myself to stop doing that. It really saddens me when I hear my friends
doing this to themselves and I try to encourage them not to speak that
way. But we are not all in the same
place in regards to our relationship with our bodies.
3) No one will die from seeing my arm flab or my chunky
thighs. I’ve been seen at the local pool
on multiple occasions in my tankini this summer, and no one keeled over
dead.
4) Fat girls find love too.
(Thank you Jes Baker for reinforcing that concept! Read her thoughts here) I have found men who appreciate my body just
the way it is and don’t expect me to diet or dress in a certain way. (Sorry Dad
if you’re reading this). It’s probably
the most affirming truth I’ve learned thus far.
5) We ALL struggle with our body image. Be kind to each other.
Despite all of the wars I have waged with
my body over the years, I feel that I have finally hit my stride. I am in a place where I am making peace with
my body and allowing myself the grace to exist without apology. I know I’ve said it before, but I can’t
express enough thanks to the women who have already walked this mile and encourage
those around them: Virgie Tovar, Marilyn Wann and Jes Baker are my heroes. I hope that my own voice helps at least one
person somewhere along the way. You
won’t know what it’s like until you venture out on that limb yourself. If what you’re doing right now isn’t working,
maybe it’s time to try something new.
I’m definitely having more success these days – and that’s all I need to
keep me going J
In conclusion, here is a great song/video from a great
movie that has inspired me. In Legally Blonde, Elle Woods decides to dig deep
and challenge the outward image people have of her; she ends up finding herself
along the way.
Theme Song #40: Watch Me Shine -- Joanna Pacitti
You may need sunglasses,
Selina
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