Lately, I've taken to exercising regularly and eating a little more carefully. I want to be healthier and happier, and I want my clothes to fit a certain way. But, if I were to drop down to, say, a size 6, I think I would mourn for the loss of my size. I say this only to reiterate something important: when I say that my body takes up a lot of space, I don't do so with any sort of malice towards my figure.
I am large. My legs, arms, torso, and face are all large. My feet are large, my fingers, my nose. I have thick, curly hair--and a lot of it, too. Even my eyebrows are spacious.
For women, large is not the ideal. The beautiful women featured in movies, magazines, and the sidebar ads of websites are small: small waists, small wrists, small noses. Their hair can be thick--unless it's anywhere besides their head--but must be manageable. They have loose waves, if any, and can therefore finagle it into numerous styles. They can quickly finger it back into a ponytail, or let it fall loosely around their shoulders. They can twist it into knots, or gently and haphazardly braid it. Their are 9,000 simple updos they can quickly do, and there are several versions of "straight" or "curly" they can manage.
Most of the time, I am very content with the body that I have: chapped lips, unruly eyebrows, thick thighs and all. But every now and then, I feel pressure to make myself smaller. To transform myself into this entirely other species of woman. Petite, dainty, and light.
Once, I went to ULTA to look for some shower gel, and immediately an associate walked up to me and asked if I wanted to get my eyebrows waxed. I told her, "No thank you," and tried to carry on, but she said, "Really? ...Well, if you change your mind," as she pushed her prim-eyebrow-literature into my palms. I spent the entire time wondering if she was supposed to tell everybody about their eyebrow-waxing service, or if she just really thought mine needed to be reigned in.
Not too long ago, I found a hairstyle I wanted to try out. I spent an hour or so in the morning beating down my hair with a straightener so that my hair would be more manageable when putting it into this updo. Unfortunately, despite pairing my hair volume down, the mass was still too much to fix it the way I wanted. My mother gave it three attempts before I got too disheartened to continue. Today, she bought a special device to help if I want to try the hairstyle again. It's a super kind gesture, but I can't help but see that device like it's a harbinger of frustration and disappointment.
A friend really pushed me to diet with her. And for a few months, I was borderline obsessed with it. It wasn't like the nutritional alterations I've made now. It was a diet based in self denial and sometimes dangerously low caloric intake. It involved a lot of "fat free" and "sugar free" substances. And on days when we would eat breadsticks or cookies, we would bingefully indulge.
Now: I keep track of what I eat, I eat more fruits and vegetables, and I pay close attention to serving sizes. I still eat the foods I like, just in moderation. So I think that, if and when I lose weight this time, it won't come back so easily.
Back to what I was saying, though: A friend really pushed me to diet with her. When we were dieting together, I lost a lot of weight quickly. Like, 5+ pounds per week. I got loads of compliments, to the point that I thought kind of thought my value lied in my ability to disappear. I remember standing in my closet, changing in front of a full length mirror, the skinniest I've ever been, thinking I looked fat and disgusting in everything I put on.
So here is something you might misunderstand about self esteem: insecurities and low self esteem don't always spawn from not loving oneself. Very few things are true when they are paired down to seven words, like: insecurity is a lack of self love. I'm not saying this goes for everyone, but it certainly goes for me:
When I am insecure, it is very rarely because I think I am fat, ugly, or any other disgusting adjective that gets judgmentally slung at a woman. It is, instead, very often because I think others will see me that way. It is not a question of whether or not I love myself: it is a question of whether or not I feel as though others will be able to.
You see: I will look in the mirror and think I look gorgeous. But then I will leave a group of friends and worry that they will whisper after me, "Gee, she's gotten fat, hasn't she?"
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