Monday, January 11, 2010

Age 21

I am 5'0" and 90lbs.

Sometimes I feel beautiful. Especially when someone compliments me. Or when I'm with my boyfriend.

And sometimes the world I live in makes me feel hideous. Especially the media. Splashed all over magazines, websites and TV shows, I'm told time and time again that "curvy women are real women." I see so much resentment towards skinnier girls. Comments like, "I hate anorexic girls." Or, "She's totally flat and doesn't have a butt. That's so gross." Or, "Stick-thin toothpick girls are so overrated. Curvy is beautiful."

I can tell you that nothing is quite as hurtful as hearing people talk about "REAL women." Being told that I'm not a real woman, not a real and attractive female, makes me feel sick and awful.

I've been underweight my whole life. It's in my genes. I eat more enthusiastically and more frequently than all of my friends put together, but my skinny frame doesn't keep any of the fat. I'm healthy and eat healthy. But If I miss a meal, then I lose a few pounds. I have bony shoulders, and obvious collarbones. I have breasts so small that they don't fit into 32AA bras (but I wear them anyway). I have narrow hips. I have a thick waist. A small and flat bottom. The only fat I have gathers around my stomach, which inflates once I've eaten a lot. It looks disgusting to me, since I have no breasts or butt, so my stomach becomes the largest protrusion on my body. Like little toddlers with fat stomachs. I'm short for my age. In all respects, I have the body of a teenage boy. I try to tell myself that I have the body of a woman, but everything around me tells me otherwise. The media makes me feel ashamed and ugly.

Sometimes I wonder about breast implants. I have dreams where my waist shrinks and my hips balloon outwards. Where I get a perky bottom. I have nightmares about anorexia. I know I'm so far from it, and it would never happen. But it's my greatest fear. I'm terrified of missing a meal. Sometimes I stare at myself in the mirror and grow so frustrated that later, I avoid the mirror for days.

Sometimes I try to gain weight. I force myself to eat constantly, for days on end, until I feel sick. I gain maybe a few pounds by the end of the week. I rejoice and go back to my normal eating schedule. I lose the weight in a day. I go back to square one.

Nobody has my problem. Every one of my friends worries one way or another about gaining weight. They talk about diets, about shedding the pounds. When I have insecurities about my weight, they ignore me. Tell me I have no real problems. They get jealous, too. And that saddens me so much.

I wish the world would learn to chant, "Every Body Is Beautiful." No matter how tall, or short, or fat, or skinny, or big-breasted, or tiny-breasted you are. Every Body.