Dear tiny ones,
Please know that I spent much of my adolescent life admiring your lean arms, your stomach that still stays flat when you sit, and of course your ever-revered thigh gap. The ease with which you wear shorts and the minimal jiggling that occurs with each movement have been sources of envy ever since I could define the word.
I've read that women bond by commiserating, which can include indulging in body insecurities. The trade of 'Ugh, I'm so fat," "look how huge my thighs are," "I feel like such a pig after eating that." Sometimes we say these things for reassurance of the opposite; sometimes it's how we truly feel. I recall sitting in silence, staring at my chubby fingers clasped in front of me, absorbing your disgust for your body; the parts and pieces I longed for and would swap in an instant. I tried calculating our ratios, figuring how much more I should hate my body in respect to its size difference.
These words were meant to hurt you, but they hurt me so much more.
Just like the hours lost in the mirror, the pages torn out of Seventeen magazine, or the tears abandoned in the dressing room, you were affirming my desire to not be me- and that's the most dangerous thing a girl can feel. This disdain for her outward identity will force her to miss out on celebrations, dates, heartbreaks, awkward and enriching experiences. She'll become a self-fulfilling prophecy of the girl who never could; she wasn't strong enough, smart enough, pretty enough to succeed.
Luckily, I rewrote my ending and chose to surround myself with feminists, free-thinkers, difference-embracers, change-makers, healthy, whole-hearted people. I no longer avoid reflective surfaces, photographs and the tags of my clothes. But as my skin and the curve of my hips change, grow and shrink, those moments of body shaming stay with me like stretch marks.
The reality is, that slender or thick, we're constantly engaging in a war we can never win. It's time to call a truce. Look in the mirror: proclaim your love for your curves, your bones, your muscles, your A cups, your DD's. Your ability to walk, to talk, to observe, to love. We're pretty damn lucky to have it all. Thank yourself. Forgive yourself. Think of all the people out there looking for love, for a relationship this meaningful, with themselves. Sometimes the positivity of a few kind words spreads like wildfire. It's especially necessary when we're most vulnerable, when magazines and music tell a zit-faced fourteen-year-old to be sexy, slender and scandalous.
I know we all have our own struggles and insecurities. All
I ask is that you strive to reinforce the beauty that surrounds you,
and remember the influence of your attitude. I always wonder what my teen years (and let's be honest, the early days of my adulthood) would have been like if instead of "I feel so fat," I was
surrounded by, "I feel like I could take on the world."
Maya Angelou once said,
"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel." I hope these words sparked inspiration in you to make people feel beautiful, starting with yourself.
Singly,
Samantha Single In CLE
