"You're not fat," someone once said to me, "you're just soft." Their tone, which I remember perfectly, made this seem like a compliment. In fact, these words were spoken so nicely that I mumbled a quiet and uncertain, "thanks." But these words haunt me. Every now and again, I find myself turning them around in my head. I'm not fat, but I'd like to think that I am more than "just soft." It wasn't until just the other day that I realized that I'm the size of the average American woman.
I started running very recently; I downloaded one of those 5K running programs. Anyways, I was listening to Mindy Kaling's latest book, "Why Not Me?" on a run the other day. She said something I found so refreshing. She, like me, is just an "average sized" woman, but she spoke so eloquently about her struggles between being celebrated for her appearance and wanting to look like other stars. Honestly, hearing Kaling talk about these issues was the first time I felt like someone understood what I'm going through.
I'm not fat, but I am a statistic. Currently, 80 percent of women in the US are dissatisfied with their bodies and I'm one of them. I'm not an unhealthy person--I'm healthier than some skinny people I know. I don't eat meat and I eat all of my vegetables. I cook as much as I can and only use fresh ingredients. I exercise consistently. I keep a gym membership and go pretty regularly. I've taken yoga, pilates and strength training classes. When I'm going through a particularly hard time, I resort to counting calories, which I have a history of overdoing. Yet, I'm still the same size.
The most frustrating part is I feel completely hopeless, especially because of my age. I can't remember the last time someone (other than my mom) called me beautiful. But magazines, peers and friends liberally call me other things. I'm "pear-shaped," I have "child-bearing hips." I look like "a mom who's comfortable with her sense of style" (I really wish I was kidding with this one). It sucks because I am so much more than my appearance. I'm smart, passionate and, on occasion, funny. I try to be a good friend, daughter and sister. I want to someday help people and make a successful life for myself.
But if someone like Kaling can't escape being evaluated solely on her appearance, what chance do I stand against society's need to rate women based on looks? And if I'm really "the average," why do I feel so alone? Why do I feel like I'm on the receiving end of some terrible punishment for not being a size 0? I don't know any of the answers and I don't have the key to understanding the messed up world we all have to navigate. But if we don't change anything, it's just going to get worse. This isn't a call to arms but me begging you, my reader, to look critically and deeply at the ways you are perpetuating or solving this problem.
I'm not fat, but that shouldn't even matter because I should be enough as I am.
