I’ve always been the tall, skinny chick. In elementary school, I hulked over everyone, and was always put in the back top row of our class pictures so I wouldn’t block anyone’s face. In middle school, pubescent boys wouldn’t even LOOK at me because I had a solid 4 inches on them and it was absolutely unheard of to date a girl that made you look like a tiny little Oompa Loompa. Along with this apparently intimidating height came an insane metabolism, one I took for granted. I could pound down an entire pizza BY MYSELF and not want to die afterward. Even if I hadn’t played sports (me? sports?? yeah, I know. hard to believe, but true), I think I still would have been the human string bean. It was in my DNA. I was going to be tall and skinny forever, and I was also never going to hear the end of it.
There wasn’t the huge focus on weight back in the 80s and 90s that there is now, but girls will be girls, and everything always seemed to come down to appearance. I definitely had my mean girl tendencies, but I can say, cross my heart and hope to die, that I never made fun of someone based on their weight. Their horrible fashion sense, sure- but never their weight. I have to think this is because I found myself on the receiving end of body-based comments all the time.
I had insecurities just like everyone else, but I never really felt like I had the right to complain about it because being skinny wasn’t “wrong”, and I certainly wasn’t tormented like my bigger friends- and they were absolutely TORMENTED. Who was I to complain?
The “skinny hate” stuck with me through the years, to the point where I began to feel like the word “skinny” was offensive. Maybe not the word itself, but HOW it was used.
“Ugh, you’re so SKINNY”- it stung. It felt like an insult.
It’s been a long time since my school years. I’m now over 30 years old, and over the past 5 or so years, it’s looked like a new era of body acceptance has swept the world. Loving who you are no, being comfortable in your own skin, being accepting of others. It’s a whole new era…. or, is it?
My thirties haven’t been very kind to me thus far. Naturally skinny me doesn’t seem to want to naturally be skinny anymore. Two kids, a bad back and neck, a doctor recommended diet that my body didn’t agree with, and maybe too much pumpkin spice during the holidays… I’m not sure what did it, but I’ve been in an ongoing battle with my weight for over a year now. Being skinny my entire life (outside of the whale I was during and a few months after each pregnancy) and then suddenly busting my ass out of my favorite jeans- it hasn’t been fun. It’s been stressful, and awful, and a huge blow to my confidence and body image. As a blogger, I’m not quiet about the things I feel, or the struggles I go through.
Let me state that I have never called myself big, fat, overweight, huge, or anything remotely similar. I am just not ME, and this is not the body I want, so I went to work, and I work HARD. I document this work, the failures and the successes. I am a normal person who has normal feelings and normal insecurities, but because I’m still “small” in the eyes of many people, I’m not allowed to.
I’m not allowed to say I ate too much. I’m told that I could probably eat a house and not gain a pound. It’s not true, but it doesn’t matter.
I can’t mention feeling like a busted can of biscuits, muffin tops, or cellulite without getting my head bitten off.
If I talk about my work out, someone will poke fun or tease. If I talk about eating healthy, people laugh and go on and on about their double fudge brownie.
I’m not allowed to lament the loss of my favorite jeans. They were just old, and I needed to “shut up and eat a sandwich”.
I can’t even JOKE without someone getting offended because I shouldn’t be complaining since I’m “too skinny” already, according to them.
No matter the intent, whether it be for a giggle or otherwise, this is skinny-shaming. This is WEIGHT SHAMING, and it pisses me off. I’m not Sensitive Susie. I don’t have paper-thin feelings. I’m not fishing for compliments or asking you if I “look fat” in this outfit- but when someone is already struggling, to invalidate their feelings is not the right thing to do. Whether it be a woman accepting her bigger size, even though it was a battle to do so, or a woman working to get to that point with her body by eating better and/or exercising, or slips and pounds down two slices of cheesecake, we should be supportive instead of teasing. Unless you’ve been able to pull some Freaky Friday level shit and live in her body, you don’t know what it’s like, how she feels in her own skin, or what size she feels comfortable/healthy/”skinny”/bloated/etc. at. I think I can safely assume Lindsay Lohan will never be able to tell us how her character did it, and until she does, instead of making baseless judgments, we should mind our own business and maybe even try relating every now and then.
All the hate I get on my mission to be a fitter me that feels more like the me I want to feel like (terrible sentence construction but it makes sense!) makes me not want to even mention it, and this has NOT been easy. I’d love the back-up. Maybe a little cheering here and there instead of people poking fun, making negative comments, and just being downright hater-y.
I’ve been there!
I know how you feel!
Maybe even a YOU GO GIRL will suffice at times. This isn’t elementary school. Let’s not act like nasty Regina George level tweens, okay?
I don’t want to go eat a sandwich, and I’m not a “skinny bitch”.
Sure, I might be a bitch, but what does that have to do with my weight?
@DianeAuten I'm so glad you're enjoying it!
I don't know what I want for dinner, but I can guarantee it's not any of the 14 things my husband will suggest.
@ThisIsAstartes Best worst little shits on the planet.
What's that smell? A lot of pants on fire. pic.twitter.com/bVK0FnJgeB
I'm officially done parenting. Here's how I did it: holdinholden.com/2018/01/im-o…
I’m Officially Finished Parenting. Here’s how I did it goo.gl/fb/TBJQPJ