I have never been skinny, like ever. I was considered a chubby baby. In elementary school, I was told I just had more baby fat than others. In middle school, I remember having thunder thighs and my high school boyfriend praised me for being thicc. Now, I’m what the TikTok girlies call mid-sized. All of these words are not synonymous with being thin.
When I was younger, and if I was being completely vulnerable at times now, I felt as if my weight was the worst thing that happened to me. I dreamt of being skinny and would go on crash diets to try and achieve that dream, but as quickly as I started I failed. I was embarrassed by my body. I hated looking at the scale and I hated when others had to look as well. I hid my body under large sweatshirts and baggy pants. I made sure photos were only taken from my chest up and I promised myself I’d start dressing the way I wanted once I lost weight.
In eighth grade, I remember reading body positive quote on a friend’s wall.
“And I said to my body, softly, ‘I want to be your friend.’ It took a long breath and replied, ‘I have been waiting my whole life for this.”
Nayyirah Waheed
It should have been a motivational quote, a reminder that we need to love our bodies, but at that time I could not fathom how I could accept a body that was anything less than perfect. Why would I ever want to befriend my fat body? Wasn’t that just giving up my dreams? The ironic situation is that this quote makes more sense to me than ever.
During the summer, I was convinced this would be the time I lost the 15 pounds I had gained since my freshman year of college. That didn’t happen though, instead I gained 5 pounds. In my normal cycle, this would have devastated me and I would have punished myself. This time was different. Between 12-3-30 workouts and googling low-calorie, high-volume recipes I found a community on TikTok that showed me how soft bodies are beautiful.
Despite having similar bodies, these creators weren’t trying to lose weight for the aesthetics of a slimmer body. They weren’t refusing to dress how they wanted because they felt self-conscious and they weren’t scared to show their bodies because it might offend others.
Some of the creators, like Olivia Kirkby and Brittani Lancaster, made body-positive content. Others like Raeann Langas made fashion videos proving you can be fashionable in all sizes. Creators, like Nia Sioux, showed me that you don’t have to wait till you lose 20 pounds to live a fully present life.
The lessons I’ve learned since surrounding myself with a body-positive community are endless, but here are a few:
- I don’t have to work out to lose weight. I can work out to become stronger, to support your health, and to feel good.
- Most people don’t care if I wear a bikini and if they do that is a them issue.
- Fat people don’t have to follow stupid fashion rules to look slimmer. If I want to wear horizontal stripes, wear them!
- I don’t have to punish your body for just existing.
Social media can be toxic, TikTok especially. Yet we always seem to be in conversations about how social media is bad but never how it’s good. Without TikTok, I wouldn’t have been able to see the representation I needed in the media. Traditional media rarely ever shows bigger bodies and when they do they either exist to support a thin lead or are hypersexualized. Leaving me with two options in this world. Either to melt into the background or become Fat Amy from Pitch Perfect.
Body positivity and self-love is a long journey and one I will need to keep working on. However, my main takeaway on this journey is that representation matters. Having people who look like you and are portrayed in a good light is important. It is a reminder that you belong in society as you are. It is disheartening that I had to rely on TikTok to find representation, but despite this, I am grateful for the platform and the creators on it.
