Warning: this is a post/rant about body image and society today.
I live in Venezuela. It is a country known for being obsessed with beauty, and it has won (if I'm not mistaken) 6 Miss Universe crowns. Go figure! 6 times out of the many that Earth has won the Miss Universe contest (bit dodgy if you ask me), the winner has been from my country! Oh proud moment!
Except......for the ones of us that DON'T look like a Miss Universe (and we're not in the majority), the world is a slightly different place. Here everyone is skinny, and beautiful, and wake up in the morning to do their makeups, go to the gym, and spend ridiculous amounts of time and money at beauty parlors. Not to mention the massive amounts of cosmetic surgeries done around here, of boob jobs, tummy tucks, lip and butt injections, et cetera.
I have struggled with body weight and body image since I was little. I had my little group of friends, and out of the 4 of us, I was the not-skinny one. I did modeling for about 3 months and hated it. My godmother was always saying how I was thin, but stocky. My best friend is and has always been skinny. They were our neighbours for quite some time, so the comparisons were always at hand.
I distinctly remember a photoshoot we did, where we had to get bathing suits. I was about 8 or 9. T got a beautiful yellow and blue two piece with a little Tweety cartoon on the side. I got the full one piece.
It was the first time that I can remember being told that I had to hide my body. My torso is kinda weird because I have big hips, so my waist is higher than my bellybutton. My legs are long. As such, in the fashion industry it falls to reason that I should wear a one piece because it would made me look even longer.
But all I remember is that my best friend had a flat tummy, with a hint of abs and I didn't. I was the chubby one.
Another time I remember being told I was fat being a child, was when the World Health Organisation did this health fair when I was about 7, and doing gymnastics for the town team. They would meassure you and weigh you and all that, and then give results, plus estimates. On the paper (still around in my house), it said that I was "slightly overweight" (for an athlete) and that I would be 1.75mts when I grew up (about 5'8"). They owe me 13cms.
When I had my puberty hit at 11, I had a couple of growth spurts. I was tall, but still thin/stocky. I did all sorts of sports, swimming, dance, you name it. I was lousy at most of them, but I excersised.
Did I also mentioned I had bucked teeth? Oh yeah, that too.
So when I was 16, for my high school graduation, my godfather quite jokingly said, "when are you going to get those buck teeth of yours fixed?", orthodontia is quite expensive here, so I said (and it's been one of my bravest moments), "well, if you don't like them, why don't you pay for them?". I dunno if it's because I stood up to him, but in the end, he paid for the whole thing.
My teeth needed A LOT of work. I had come back fat for a 15 year old (64kg, 141lbs) from England because we ate a lot of carbs there and didn't work out much, so when I got my braces in, it hurt so much that I lost about 16kg, or 35lbs. I was 17. I looked like I had a terrible disease. But I was thin. I was in the club.
I was skinny.
From then on, I tried my very best to keep my weight, it felt quite nice to be complimented on a flat tummy (even though it was because of lack of solid food, because I couldn't eat without crying of pain). I still had my little pouch, it's the shape my body has, nothing to be done about that. But I was skinny.
I had braces for almost 3 years, the entirety of my Uni career, so when I graduated, my dress was a size 4, and I looked amazing with my new teeth.
I had some serious problems with my mother (left the house, started living with someone), but I looked nice.
In that time away from home, I gained weight again, but since I was super skinny, I started to look normal again, I started to look like me. In the interim, I lost my job and found a new one, where I made some of the best friends I've had, and everything was dandy.
Then my relationship ended, I had to beg to come back home, and I entered a deep depression. I didn't eat, I didn't sleep. I guess you could say that the anorexia was fueled by the depression and vice versa. I was super thin again.
Eventually I came out of that dark whole and found theatre. I was alive again. I gained back my weight and was happy. In theatre no one cares if you're fat or thin, what matters are your acting chops and your ability to move on stage.
Then I made I terrible mistake where my health almost screwed up a show, and was asked to leave the company. But this time, instead of starving myself, I guess I just kept going. I was sad, yes, but I would not go back to an eating disorder. I found ballet, and noticed that it shaped my body quite nicely. It was only a 3 month workshop that I did on Saturdays, but it helped a lot, and I just loved it. For someone who had spent the better part of a year with an immobilised foot, it was great!
Now that I think back on it, I probably started gaining weight when I was being sedentary all those months. Add to that the pressures of work, and recently the holidays, and you could say that I have been steadily getting....FAT.
FAT.
That's what my family members say. That I'm fat. You know that thing where they tell you that you shouldn't do unto others what you wouldn't like done to you? Yeah. I try my very best to never comment on anyone's personal appereance, because a) it's rude, b) none of my business, and c) I don't have the morale to criticise someone else.
But it hurts.
When people you love start criticising your personal appereace, instead of asking your opinion on something, or even how you are. It hurts.
I'M MORE THAN MY BODY WEIGHT. I AM NOT FAT. Maybe I have a few extra pounds, but I think there are more important things in life, no?
And now, I'm self doubting! Am I fat? I know that I have extra meat in some areas, and I'm working on it, I got into swimming again, and a ballet academy for adults. But it's not an overnight process.
This morning I was lying down, and my mum came to my bed to say goodbye and leave for work, when she quite casually rubbed my tummy, and said "you need to lose this fat, you're overweight". It sucked big time. I tried, as politely as I could, to mention to her that I'm getting tired of people telling me I'm fat (my aunt said it about 5 times in the span of 10 minutes), and that she knows I'm working on it. Out of 7 days of the week, I'm working out on 4 of those. My mother said that my family said that because they're used to me being skinny. I had to tell her that those few times they saw me on those years, I was anorexic. Not skinny. Anorexic. I am not that naturally thin.
So please, if anyone reads this, and you have a family member that you know is struggling with body image issues, don't just tell them they're fat. Ecourage them, ask them how their working out sessions are going, or if they are doing any work outs, how is that going.
If sharing my struggles helps at least one other person, then I will be so happy. If not, at least I shared my feelings with the mysterious world of the internet.
Because "fat" people have feelings too.
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