Age 23

I'm a 23 year old Black Woman and my body has only recently truly become a part of me. I’ve spent most of my life wishing for a different body and feeling uncomfortable in my own skin because I didn’t understand or appreciate my body as much as I do now; but better late than never as they say.

It struck me though, that apart from female family members and a few friends, I didn’t have much support growing up. I’m talking about the kind of support that says ‘the way you’re feeling about your body today is normal because I’ve felt it too.’ Each female body is special but its problems hardly are. I appreciate The Body Image Project for this reason. I wanted to do something to prove that solidarity among women, particularly black women, concerning body image issues is possible and necessary to build body conscious confidence, as I call it. This is how Girl, It’s Not Just You was born – a site focused on the body image and consciousnesses of black woman, regardless of age, skin tone or nationality. It is an effort to share our problems such that we understand that the various things we experience are not unique to us as individuals.

Age 22

I grew much faster than those around me. By the time I was 10, I was 5 feet - 3 inches and 220 pounds. I was fat. Plain and simple, I was unhealthy. I never managed to feel comfortable in my skin while in school, and as a result, I isolated myself and ate food for something to do when I was bored and lonely. By the time I graduated from high school, I had arrived at 280 pounds of unhealthy, unhappy 18 year old girl.

Then, I went to college and was forced to walk a couple miles per day to get to and from my classes and somehow I managed to begin to focus less on my appearance and how it was perceived. I was a girl doing something healthy - exercise every day! I could walk miles more than my peers without getting exhausted. I began to appreciate the things my body could do, and began to love it. My legs were amazing for being able to carry me. With that mentality, I started to try to see how much it could do. I started exercising much more often - taking up new sports. I began to love every inch of myself. My big thighs are muscles that can take me miles on my bicycle. My round butt is screaming with a megaphone how many hundreds of stairs I climbed in Europe, and my large arms testify to the fact that I swim for miles every week. Every inch of me tells my story. While numbers aren't important, I want to share for those of you out there who are still large - I am saying these things while still weighing in at 220 pounds. 220 pounds of strong woman who loves the look on people's faces when they see this beautiful body climbing out of the pool after 100 laps!

Age 19

I'm 19 years old. I live in this weird fluctuation of loving the way I look and hating it, and I don't know why. Sometimes I think I have a great hourglass figure, and feel like a million bucks. Other times, like today, I feel like my stomach and thighs and hips are monstrous, and would tear ten pounds of fat off my body if I could. I constantly compare myself to other girls, trying to find things about them that aren't as good as mine, and then woefully deciding that I'm just looking for excuses to cover how much I really don't like my body. The scale says I'm healthy - 5'4" and 125 pounds - but I just can't bring myself to be content with my body most of the time. I usually strut my stuff with non-existent confidence so that what I feel like I lack in the shape department can be replaced with self-assuredness. I get compliments on my smile, hair or eyes, but I feel like I'm never noticed for having a nice body, and therefore tend to think it's not so great. At least I know in my head that I'm healthy, really, and need to learn to appreciate that.

Age 32

When I look in the mirror, I see a strong, beautiful woman who glows from the inside out. I’m not an ideal beauty – I’m marked with imperfections. But I have a smile that can light up a room…and eyes that radiate love. I’ve learned to love myself.

Age 25

I find myself the most depressed when I am at the gym. I feel like no matter how hard I try, I’ll always be the big girl. I don’t want to be thin. I would settle for average.

Age 16

I have always had a weight problem. I was an overweight baby. I am now an overweight teen. Growing up, my parents were always positive and supportive - ignoring the problem of having an unhealthy child. I don't blame my parents, but I wish we had conversations about my weight as a child instead of pretending the problem didn't exist. Maybe I could have learned healthier habits. Maybe I wouldn't have felt like such an outcast. Maybe I could have been happy.

I can't remember a day when I haven't been teased about my weight/looks. Every night, I cry myself to sleep, dreading the fact that I have to go back to school. I am so sad. So depressed. I hate myself. I hate being/feeling so alone, but I can't stand the thought of being outside. I feel safer in my room where I don't have to hear the cruel words of my peers…where there are no longer any mirrors to remind me of my weight.

I've tried dieting, but it's so easy to get discouraged. And when I get discouraged and sad, I eat. I have been sad my entire life...and I eat. And eat. And in the morning, I put on my oversized clothes and a smile and pretend everything is OK when I'm really dying on the inside.

Age 32

For most of my life I hated and disrespected my body. Over those years, there was a constant, mutual betrayal – my body would let me down, not living up to the high standards I set…and in return, I would starve myself as a brutal form of payback. We truly hated each other.

Then I got pregnant…and everything changed. My focus shifted to the health and well-being of my unborn child. During my pregnancy, I truly learned to love my body – the curves I hated and cursed for all those years I now welcomed and cherished. My body created life…and in the process, gave me back my own.

Age 16

If we are not able to look like our peers, we feel neglected. If we look too different from our peers, we become outcasts. It seems to be a lose-lose situation. Reading the other posts, at times I was like “What! They’re crazy!” But when I question if I would have said the same thing or done the same thing, I was silenced. A quote that stuck with me that I read in a post was, “I would like to be able to say I wish I were more comfortable in my own skin…but the truth is, I don’t want to be comfortable in MY skin.” At first I thought that was outrageous, but then I knew I felt the same way. I always put this exterior shield of protection where I try to make all my girlfriends (and even guy friends) feel that I am 100% happy with how I look. But truthfully, that’s not possible. Yeah, no one’s perfect, but in today’s society that’s not acceptable. Sometimes I look at my sister and her friends and see how GORGEOUS they are, yet they always seem to find “those flaws.”

So reading another post - “I imagine that some women would think my body was perfect and others would think I was too big” - I was able to come to the question, “What is beauty? What is beautiful? Is it not in the eyes of the beholder?” Yet knowing all this, you can’t help to feel that judgment against yourself. I know sometimes when I am with a group of people who look prettier than me, I begin to imagine what they are thinking of me - “Ewww…look at her thighs…can she weigh anymore?…Only good thing she has are those eyes, but other than that she’s done…” - but then I just snap back to the conversation and try to make a joke and act like everything is alright. Because of my rough exterior behavior, guys see me as one of them. I am that chick who is more a guy then a girl, the one who says it like it is so “she’s not playin’ no games and she ain’t tryin’ to hook up with any guy.” And that hurts. Once in a while I want to be looked upon as one of “those girls,” the ones guys look at and go “wow.” But then again, I just don’t want to be another girl to be looked upon as “I’d tap that.” I want to be that girl that catches your attention because she uses the mind that god has gifted her with - and yes, maybe because she is beautiful, inside and out.

Another subject I think no one seemed to touch upon was color. Traditionally, where I come from, girls that have lighter skin color are consider prettier….and me being BROWNER than anything you’ve seen, my family seemed to always bring that topic up. Luckily to me, I always found my skin color pretty…it was the one thing I would never ever change because it made me feel different and unique. I know I can’t say the same for my cousins. In a country where your skin color is such a big deal, I have seen them literally bleach there faces to try to make themselves look as white as a “pearl” - it was like watching Michael Jackson get his treatment right in front of you! All jokes aside, I feel that it’s sad that as women (and even sometimes as men) we go to SUCH extremes to become that “beauty” - to become accepted into that stereotypical beauty.

Age 22

Today a stranger told me I was beautiful. My first thought was he was lying – this had to be a cruel, hurtful joke. Is it possible for someone to really think I am beautiful?

I hope a day comes when I don’t shy away from compliments. I hope a day comes when I believe what others see.

Age 17

Realistically I know I am not unattractive, but when I look in the mirror I am so sad by what I see. I want to be happy and confident in my skin, but all I see are flaws.

Stringy hair.

A constellation of freckles.

A big nose and crooked smile.

A frame that lacks tone.

A small chest.

I’ve learned to use humor as a way to appear happy and comfortable with who I am. But I’m sad. And scared. Scared that I’ll never walk with my head up and mean it. I want to be proud. I know I have so much to offer…I just need to find the inner strength to show the world. I need to be OK with me. I hope that day comes…soon.