I did not know my body mattered to others until I hit puberty. I was not only shocked by the changes in my hair, acne, and breasts but also how, in every setting, I felt as if the world was judging me. I became self-conscious too fast, thinking the words “fat” and “ugly” described me because pieces of conversations and social media whispered them. That’s why, from that moment, I renounced dresses and skirts because they highlighted the parts I did not like.
I had access to the Internet when I was pretty young. My parents made sure it was a very controlled environment, only allowing me certain apps and one social media account: Instagram. I wasn’t really invested in posting pictures of myself, I just wanted to see what my favorite artists were up to. It was very innocent, but you don’t need to see dark and twisted things to understand certain concepts. It wasn’t hard to recognize, after a long feed full of thin ladies, that being chubby was not the goal. I didn’t feel like I looked like “the goal.”
I didn’t only know from social media, but also by observing my own classmates. Most girls were slim with straight hair. I was one of the few to be big-boned with wavy hair. Body parts that looked delicate and perfect on them, felt awkward and messy on me. I had three big enemies: my stomach, my legs, and my hair. The first two started with me. I didn’t like how you could see the bulge of my tummy through the school skirt. I definitely didn’t like my legs when I sat down because they expanded and covered the whole seat. Because I villainized them, I wore any clothes that camouflaged me; loose or baggy shirts and pants were the general vibe. The hatred for my hair, however, stemmed from a single comment an old friend made: “Your hair looks like a lion’s mane.” It was headbands and ponytails after that. I am relieved I never tried to straighten my hair permanently, but I did everything to cover the curls that made me unique.
It didn’t help that, around this time, I developed a general anxiety disorder I still struggle with to this day. The thoughts and worries it generated were not healthy, since I became extremely concerned about what I ate, how much I ate, and how much weight I gained. This was all to resolve the worries of someone who did not exist. My friends were not concerned about my body. My family, except for one member, was not concerned about my body either. So, why was I so focused on covering “imperfections” that did not exist to others?
Middle school was a difficult stage, but, weirdly enough, the COVID-19 pandemic was my haven. While many took time to enjoy new hobbies or become social media influencers, I took the lack of social interactions (therefore the lack of feeling like I had to please others) to learn about myself. During the lockdown, I opened myself to new experiences like wearing necklaces and rings for the first time, learning how to do makeup, and buying my first skirt in a long time. When I tried on a maxi skirt, my whole world flipped. I had never felt so comfortable and beautiful. And trying on a dress again? Revolutionary. I didn’t know exactly what had changed, but it felt like I was finally worthy of being feminine. It comes as no surprise that by the time the lockdown was lifted, everything in my closet had a different color palette and style. I have not gone back.
Retrieved from Pinterest
Recently, I looked back at pictures of me in middle school and I looked nothing like the way I perceived myself. I feel that is the reason why people sometimes don’t believe me when I mention my old problem. I was way skinnier and prettier than I thought I was. That version of me did not deserve what I put her through. It’s still hard to believe how much these ideas messed with my head that it altered my view of reality.
That old me would faint now because I have embraced my body. I have let it grow and develop the way it wants to. My body is no longer made to fit in a size; I pick a size so it fits me. I wear dresses, skirts, loose pants, shorts, crop tops, and baggy T-shirts. If any clothes hide my figure, it is not because I feel the pressure to do so but because I decided I wanted to. Most of the time, my hair runs loose. It is and will always be my favorite part about me. I still struggle with my body image from time to time, but for anyone who relates, know that after some time of allowing yourself to understand who you are and how you look, especially with therapy, there is a future where you can see yourself and say: “I love who I see.”