I’ve struggled with body image for as long as I can remember. Most of my adolescence I spent staring in the mirror trying to figure out a way to make my chest look bigger and desperately pulling up my low rise jeans in an attempt to hide the dreaded muffin top. Comments from friends and family about the way my clothes fit or the how “big” I was getting, seemed harmless, but always hurt to hear. I tried to get into shape by running. I joined the track team in middle school and for the next six years, I ran almost every day hoping to improve my times but more importantly, improve my figure. No amount of running and lifting was going to get me my dream body. I would never look like those lean and fit Olympians that I aspired to look like. I would always have thicker thighs that rubbed together when I ran and a little bit too much jiggle in my midsection. Even as my race times improved, I was never truly satisfied when I looked at myself. After many failed diets and skipped meals, I was tired of beating myself up and denying myself happiness.
Photo courtesy of Flickr account Corrie…
I decided to not run in college for several reasons. One reason was that I wasn’t sure I could handle the pressure of academics and athletics for four more years. The other reason was that I didn’t want to fall into the cycle of once again, obsessing over my weight, and how it affected my performance while also juggling the mental pressures that college often comes with. It was a difficult decision to make because as much as I loved running, it became an unhealthy way for me to punish my body for not fitting an image I strived so hard to achieve. The decision definitely lifted a weight off of my shoulders but it didn’t last long because I would soon have to face the terrible freshman fifteen. That has come with its own consequences including several nights in the gym trying to sweat away all of the carbs I previously inhaled in the dining hall. There are still days where I beat myself up over greasy meals and skipped gym days but I do think I’ve made progress.
Self-love is a process. No one wakes up one day completely satisfied with how they look in the mirror. We all have our flaws that we pick at and wish we could change but accepting them is the first step in self-love. Now when I say step I don’t mean that there’s some rule book to achieving self-love. It’s more of a roller coaster full of ups and downs where there are days you avoid looking in the mirror and other days where you take dozens of selfies. Truthfully I wish there were a step by step process because it would make life a lot easier. Social media and societal expectations also don’t help. We constantly hear and see things about “real” bodies and all the #bodygoals that invade our timelines. First, women were expected to be petite with model-like figures. Then there was a move towards voluptuous bodies with curves. So now you can be praised for having big hips and a big chest but only if they come without stretchmarks and cellulite. It’s a constant battle to fit these standards and no one ever wins.
It’s easy for me to now look at the expectations that society shoves down our throats and understand that they are ridiculous. But for people who are young and easily influenced like I was in middle and high school, these expectations can be harmful. Young girls and boys grow up to develop eating disorders due to unattainable beauty standards. This can lead to a lifetime of unhealthy body image and self-hate.
To those that have grown to accept and love themselves, I encourage you to go and spread that positivity. Showing younger people that it is possible to find beauty in their flaws within a society that tells them they’re never good enough can help achieve self-love. This may one day allow us to shatter the binds that confine us in society and denies us of our happiness.
The journey towards self-love is a long one, but I can be sure that these thick thighs will take me there.