An Open Letter About Body Image

As my inaugural first post, I thought I would write about something that has been prevalent in my life for as long as I can remember: body image. To me, this article is a simple discussion or diary-like post about my trials and tribulations with my body image.

I’ve always been chubby, husky, bigger boned, or whatever you want to call it. I’m pretty tall and not thin, which used to bug me a lot. Whenever I look in the media and see taller women, they always look the same to me- a slim, toned abdomen, and thin arms, and slender legs. I, on the other hand have a pudgier stomach that is far from toned, arms that have stretch marks on the sides, and thicker legs. I desperately wish that the media portrayed a character with the same body type as me, especially when I was young.

"I desperately wish that the media portrayed a character with the same body type as me, especially when I was young."

As a little girl, I never really realized that I was bigger until one summer in early elementary school. I was at the pool and trying to play with this other girl, but she kept making up excuses not to play with me. Fed up with her antics, I asked her friend why she wouldn’t play with me. She nonchalantly responded “She doesn’t want to play with you because you’re fat.” I was destroyed. No one had ever told me I was fat and frankly I wasn’t even that big at the age of 7 or 8. For the rest of the summer I avoided the pool and I still don’t completely feel comfortable going to the pool for the fear of being ridiculed. For nearly 10 years I’ve let that comment dictate so much about my self worth. Looking back, at some point someone would’ve called me fat and it was just inevitable that would happen. Kids are judgmental and ruthless, especially when it comes to your physical appearance.

As time passed on, I slipped into the “lifestyle of a chubby kid”. I kept myself covered up, I didn’t play sports because other kids were faster than me and I didn’t think I posed a chance against them, and I liked to stay home and snack, rather than play outside with other kids. I found a lot of comfort in food; whenever I was bored or emotional, I’d eat a massive amount of snacks and quietly watch Disney Channel or Nickelodeon. This sluggish lifestyle continued until about 6th grade, which I’ll get into in a moment. I do credit to my mother, as she put me into numerous activities, not because she wanted me to lose weight though.

Middle school was rough. My parents got divorced and my family was ripped apart. I looked to food as support, and started puberty, which didn’t help. Middle schoolers are much more brutal than little kids. They make snap opinions and form cliques in an instant. Throughout middle school, I mainly remember hating P.E. I had to change my clothes in front of my peers in the locker room and then go into a crowded gymnasium to play dodgeball or kickball, which I despise. In eight grade, my anxiety and depression surged, so I began doing hospital-homebound school. I basically sat around all day, and I also started taking antidepressants and anti anxiety medicine, which made me gain weight. When I gained weight, I became more depressed, so I ate more to comfort myself, and then I gained weight, and the cycle continued. By the end of eighth grade I probably gained around fifteen to twenty pounds.

In the summer before high school, I reluctantly joined the colorguard. I was very nervous because I had never danced before, and the thought of throwing a flag into the air and catching it sounded terrifying. But, I started to enjoy colorguard and I lost some weight. Ninth grade was pretty uneventful and I was pretty happy that I had lost weight and that I was active on a daily basis.

The “Quarantine- Fifteen” is real. When school and winter guard abruptly ended, I quickly gained about twenty pounds (I also started taking birth control because of my wretched periods). Right now I’m the heaviest I’ve ever been and I’m not too happy about that. I genuinely don’t know of a healthy way to lose weight. Throughout middle school, I fell victim to many crash diets and exercise regimens, so when it came time to lose weight I have no clue where to start. As of today, when I look in the mirror I see a fat girl that hides under baggy t-shirts, and that bothers me. As I read through this article, I can only emphasize how difficult it is to love my body. It’s a series of highs and lows for me: sometimes I think I look perfect and love myself, whereas other times I desperately wish I was thinner and hate how I look. In the end, body image is something that should be celebrated because all bodies are beautiful.

- August