We all heard the cautionary tale about the Freshman 15™ before starting college. It was confirmed by many of my older friends, nodding knowingly and affirming that it is simply a fact of life when your parents are not cooking for you anymore and dining halls have unlimited ice cream access. It was a warning that came from the mouth of every adult I spoke to, one of the common questions I got this past summer.
“Are you excited about college? Have you spoken with your roommate yet? What do you want to major in? Are you worried about the Freshman 15?”
I knew logically it was not important. I tried to get into the mindset that if it happened, I wouldn’t be happy, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world either. But I’ve always been sensitive about my weight. I was the fat kid and even though I have lost weight since I was younger, I will never be really skinny because that is just not the kind of body I have. I’ve learned to accept this and be okay with it but my inner fat kid will always be a part of me, no matter how much self-love I achieve. Because of this, the thought that people would be scrutinizing me when back home on breaks or asking me about my weight made me wildly uncomfortable. Of course, I would sincerely appreciate the concern if it had to do with my health and wellbeing instead of my appearance, but I knew it didn’t.
So I started freshman year set with the goal of maintaining or losing weight. It worked well for a while, when I still had time to work out a lot at the KAC and before stress-eating became a thing. But classes got harder and I found that goal falling to the wayside. I didn’t gain the Freshman 15. Not really. It was more like gaining a few pounds and hating the way I looked so decided only to eat dinner for a few days until I was satisfied that I looked skinny enough. But I never really was. Eating full meals made me feel gross but when I didn’t I was distracted and tired in class, unable to fully concentrate or participate. My weight fluctuated and it was exhausting to think through everything I ate as much as I was. I knew I had to get it under control and find a healthy diet that would be sustainable and make me feel comfortable with myself again. Things aren’t perfect and I still feel guilty sometimes about what I eat but I’m getting to a healthier place mentally.
What I’ve realized is that the Freshman 15 does not matter because I do not owe it to anyone to be skinny. I do not need to prove anything by fervently avoiding weight gain or pretend that by doing so I have achieved something worth acknowledging. Going home for Thanksgiving break should not consist of anxiety over whether I am the best looking version of myself I have ever been because the people who really care about me won’t notice.