“Oh no! You didn’t gain any weight, did you?”
“Why are you working out? You don’t have any weight to lose.”
“Why don’t you go eat a cheeseburger?”
“Don’t snap in half, twig.”
I could continue on and on about all the condescending, demoralizing, and negative things people (often strangers) have said to me about my body. You would think I would be used to the comments because of their frequency, but each one still stings a little more than the last. No matter how confident you are, having people point out (in such negative and passive-aggressive ways) something that you’re self-conscious about, hurts. Now you’re probably thinking, “whatever, Emily, you’re skinny and yeah people point that out in rude ways, but life could be worse”. And yes, things could be much worse but that’s doesn’t lessen the blow when it happens.
I want to start by saying that I absolutely LOVE my body now. But, for a long time, I didn’t. I was blessed with wonderful genes and fast metabolism, that I am now extremely thankful for. However, growing up, I saw my body type and quick metabolism as a curse.
Up until high school, I was always one of the tallest in the class and for the duration of my school years, I was always one of (if not the) skinniest in my grade. So, I stood out. I loved shopping but dreaded doing it because nothing ever fit properly. I was too tall to fit in the big girls’ clothes but too skinny to fit in the junior’s clothes. I began to eat more in hopes of gaining weight to look “normal”, but my metabolism prevented that from happening. People made fun of me in school constantly for how small I was, they tried to lock me in lockers, and everything I did to try to fit in failed. I faced daily reminders that I didn’t look “normal” and I hated my body.
Everyone says middle school is the worst, and in my case, it truly was three of the worst years of my life. High school was a slight improvement, but people still reinforced my negative beliefs about my body. College was much better but there were still some people that opened old wounds. And after graduation, I finally thought I had overcome my fight with my negative body image. But boy was I wrong!
Once I entered the adult world, I decided it was time to get into a good routine and workout more frequently. I did just that. I worked out about three to five days per week at my local gym and I started to really love how I looked and felt for the first time in my life. However, things declined quickly after a month or so. A few people here and there started to ask me “why I was working out because I looked too skinny”, “when I would be done with machines because they needed them more than I did”, and my personal favorite “what’s wrong with you? You look unhealthily skinny; you must be sick”. Those comments took me right back to middle school and reignited my poor body image. I stopped working out and going to the gym to avoid the comments. And it was two years of learning to love my body and my “normal” before I started working out again.
It took me a very long time to learn that “normal” is not a set body standard that applies to everyone. “Normal” is personal, “normal” is unique, and “normal” is not defined by other people’s beliefs about your body. If others tell you that you’re too skinny, need to trim down, are too muscular, are too weak, etc., none of that matters because your “normal”, in regard to your body, is different than theirs.
To me, “normal” is a size 00 or extra-small, or even an extra-extra-small in some stores, and I’m not ashamed to say that because that is normal for me. Others will say I’m too small and look unhealthily thin, in their eyes, but they don’t know my story, my body, or me. Nor do they have the right to impose their opinions on what my body should look like. I LOVE how my body looks, I have a healthy relationship with food and working out (and I love doing both – ya girl can eat, just ask my fiancé), and I am so happy. Those are the only things that should matter and they should only be determined by you.
We need to stop telling people what their bodies should look like based on our own definition of “normal”. I was reminded of the toxic relationship I had with poor body image while weighing myself at the gym this week. A lady (whom I do not know) said to me in a very derogatory and judgmental manner, “Oh no! You didn’t gain any weight, did you?” At first, I was shocked because I couldn’t believe that in 2020 people still find it’s acceptable to make judgments and comments on strangers’ bodies. I didn’t know how to respond but once the moment of shock passed, I simply replied: “no, I have a wedding dress to fit into BUT even if I did that’s okay with me too”. The comment got me thinking, if someone said any of the things said to me in the opposite way to someone heavier set, others would react and stand up for the person being body shamed. As a society, we don’t tolerate fat-shaming because we know it’s wrong. So, my question is what’s so different about shaming people for being skinny? You would never tell someone heavier set to go eat a salad, so what’s so different about telling someone on the skinnier side to go eat a cheeseburger? Chances are you don’t know that person’s story, what they’re going through, or why they are, in your eyes, so skinny. Negative comments of any kind, about any body type, to anyone that is different, should be kept to oneself.
The culture of imposing our opinions on other people’s bodies and shaming them for looking different needs to end. As a society, we need to prioritize promoting positivity and acceptance and stop tolerating skinny shaming because it is bullying and just as wrong as fat shaming. Little girls should be taught and shown how to have a healthy relationship with body image. They should not be told that being and looking different is wrong. Instead, they should be told that different is beautiful. The only way to show that is to follow our parent’s childhood advice, “if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it”.
If you’ve made it through the post, thanks for bearing with me!
xo,
SimplyEJV
SimplyEJV 