This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Notre Dame chapter.
I don’t know about the rest of you, but I hit puberty pretty late. I wore training bras up
until the time I was fourteen and I didn’t get my period until I was fifteen. I wore a grey one piece
bathing suit to every pool party I ever went to. I looked like a little boy beanstalk for most of my
life. And then, one miraculous day, it happened. I grew boobs! My hips widened! My lips got
fuller (pretty sure this has nothing to do with puberty but it happened all the same). I was finally
starting to look like a woman. If we analyze social standards for what the female body “should”
look like, I would say my ideal body came in when I was about seventeen. I was a size four,
32C, with a killer hourglass figure. I thought I was set for life, but I didn’t stop growing. My
coveted thigh gap turned into a marsh of flesh that wore through every pair of leggings I bought.
My boobs grew, and eventually started to drop just from the sheer weight of them. My ass
looked a little lumpy. I was healthy as a horse. I was at a normal weight with a normal BMI
and I had 18% body fat. I know I’m talking about this negatively, but that’s how I saw myself
back then. I wasn’t the fat friend of the group, but I was definitely the biggest one. I had
washboard abs, and great legs because I ran and played soccer every day, but genetically, I was
curvy. And it was killing me. All of my friends were 5’4 and 110 pounds. I was 5’9 and 150. And
for a teenager to feel like that is devastating.
I’m sure you all felt something similar at some point, even if it was the opposite end of
the spectrum. Some of my skinny friends that I was so jealous of back then have told me that
they felt like the odd ones out because they were so little. Nearly everyone in the world goes
through a phase like this. And my experience is unique to me, but what helped me was
becoming sexually active. Note: I’m am not saying that if you have body image issues you ought
to go out and sleep with a bunch of people to boost your confidence. You’ll end up feeling
worse. Trust me, I’ve been there. But I had the blessing/pleasure of meeting a guy who loved
curvy girls. He was thinner than me, and of course that was a blow to my ego because small
girl=tighter vagina=better sex=he’ll be happier. Note: that is also a lie. All vaginas are pretty
much the same size and they all have the same amount of elasticity. Go ask your gynos, I’m not
making this up. But he loved my curves. He loved every inch of them. His idea of foreplay was
to run his hands up and down my naked body while staring at ourselves in the mirror. At first I
was weirded out by it. But then I got used to it just to appease him. And then I started to see
how beautiful I was. One nipple is larger than the other – significantly so. My thighs turn red if I
wear jeans when it’s cold out because they rub together so much. My hips are a little lopsided.
But it is my body. I am healthy and I am happy, and I’ve never met someone who has the same
body as me. Being unique is so cliché, but it definitely helped me find my confidence. And I now
rock the hell out of those curves. I’ve definitely lost the abs (tear, tear, ’twas a sad day for me)
and my upper arms shake when I hit turbulence on a flight, but I love every inch of me. And
finding someone who does too is a nice confidence booster. Feminists will say that you don’t
need a man to make you feel good about yourself. No, you don’t, but it doesn’t hurt when you
are able to see yourself through the love in someone else’s eyes.
Xx, Gemma
*Need advice? Ask Gemma
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