As I was scrolling through my Facebook newsfeed this week, I stumbled across this image:
It says, “I’d much rather eat pasta and drink wine than be a size 0.”
Naturally, in the comment thread of this photo are a variety of responses ranging from:
“Some of us can’t help being a size 0, even if I too eat pasta and drink wine.”
“Women need a bit of meat on them!”
“Maybe I want to be a size 0.”
“Men love curves.”
These comments from strangers around the Facebook world had me thinking. My first thought was, “Are you kidding me?!” And my next was, “None of these comments are wrong.”
To clarify, none of these comments are wrong, but they are missing something I feel is very important:
“Some of us can’t help being a size 0, even if I too eat pasta and drink wine. As long as I’m healthy, who cares what I eat?”
“Women need a bit of meat on them! But it’s OK if they don’t, so long as they’re healthy.”
“Maybe I want to be a size 0. But even if I’m not, I just want to be healthy.”
“Men love curves. But I don’t speak for all men. As long as they’re healthy.”
Isn’t being healthy all that should matter?
When I was in the 7th grade, I dated a boy whose mother had once told her son, “She needs to eat a cheeseburger.” This was the first time it had come to my attention that my size was concerning in whatever which way it was. That “joke” lasted for almost the entirety of our middle school relationship and then some. It continued for awhile, and it was something I genuinely laughed about at the time.
In the 8th grade, I had a friend who was naturally thin. She had long, dirty blonde hair, the sweetest country accent and was incredibly kind. But then one day, while sitting on a couch in our theatre class, she pointed out the “rolls” I had on my stomach. She said she never wanted them on her like they were on me. There isn’t a moment in my 23 years of life that I can think of where I became so self-conscious as quickly as I did then. I had no idea “rolls” were even a thing until that day.
In high school, we had a standardized dress code. It was basically like wearing a uniform, except we had a little bit of say in what kind of black pants or khakis or what color polo shirts we got to wear each day of the week. I chose to wear my black pants in the form of black skinny jeans. That formed the next body joke that lasted all four years: “You have chicken legs.” My legs have always been thin. I’ve always been able wrap both my hands around my thighs, and most people can wrap their fingers around my ankles. To make light of the joke, I’d say my legs were like upside down triangles; my hips being the base and the tip being my small ankles.
I could laugh with the joker to hide the embarrassment, but really, I was upset that I was being teased for something I could never control.
Despite what twisty thoughts these experiences caused and made me feel the need to do, along with the pressures of looking a certain way as I grew older, I always knew even in the back of my mind that I was healthy (or at least, I wanted to be). There was a time or two where I could have made better choices concerning my health, but overall, I was healthy and am currently the healthiest I feel I have ever been.
But unfortunately, body-shaming doesn’t always roll off the shoulders. According to bodyshaming.org, body shaming is defined as inappropriate, negative statements and attitudes toward another person’s weight or size. When most hear the term “body-shaming,” they tend to associate it with the shaming of larger bodies, also known as fat-shaming.
But that is only half the story.
There is such a thing as thin-shaming. The only difference between fat-shaming and thin-shaming is the size and weight the person is being insulted for. However, the abuse is the same. The bullying is the same. The belittlement is the same, along with the hurt and shake in the person’s self-esteem.
Studies, including a 2014 report in the “Journal of Experimental Social Psychology,” report that body-shaming actually increases the victim’s likelihood of participating in unhealthy behaviors.
Anorexia, bulimia and self-harm aren’t unfamiliar words to anyone anymore. It doesn’t only happen to “fat” people, and it doesn’t only happen to “thin” people.
So, if we know that making shameful judgements and assumptions about another person’s body is only harmful to them, why do we do it? Is this stemmed from our own insecurities? Jealousy? Inner opinionated jerkiness?
We cannot look at a person and decipher if they are making healthy choices and if their bodies aren’t what they should be. To live in a world where women, and men, are regarded as people and not decoration, we need to stop making comments on other’s appearances as if it is our right to do so, or because you think it makes your meme relatable or funny. We’ll be doing each other a favor.
Almost everybody has been made fun of for their appearance at some point during their lifetime. But if you’re reading this and you’re reminiscing over a time where you were body-shamed, please know that whatever your bully said to you, it’s irrelevant. It is stupid, and it is untrue.
You are not the F word, “fat.” You are the F word, “fabulous.” You are not the S word, “skinny.” You are the S word, “stunning.”
If reaching a place where you feel confident in and about your body and where you are at peace with your body sounds like an unattainable goal for you, I just want to grab you by your beautiful face and tell you that you can get there.
Disregard the teases, the jokes and the number of times you faked laughing it off, and give your body a physical and emotional hug. It matters none what your body looks like because your body is capable of doing so much more than the relevance of its appearance. The human body is so tremendously amazing and can do so much— why is its appearance what we find most important? It isn’t.
Whether you can help it or not— genetic, by choice, whatever— you are not obligated, nor should you be guilted, into changing the way your body looks. If you want to lose a few pounds, do it for you; don’t do it because a person had something to say about heavier people. If you’ve been a bodybuilder and decide you no longer want your crazy awesome muscles showing the way they do, do it for you; don’t do it because the jealous jerk said it was unattractive for your figure. If you want to eat whatever you want and would welcome a few extra pounds, do it for you; don’t do it because a meme on the Internet said, “Bones were for dogs, real men like curves.”
Negative peers and media have influenced the way we see our bodies. It’s a shameful reality that we all face at some point. It’s time the world’s attitude toward the appearance of our shell is shifted into a more positive light. But all of this starts with us.
It’s almost a cliché way to end an article of this nature, but you are beautiful. You are handsome. You are strong, and you are allowed to do whatever you want so long as it is positive for you, it is only for you and it is healthy for you. All that matters is that your attitude toward your body is positive and that you do positive things for it— even if your perception of what positive is differs from everyone else.