Recently, I read the article “Sorry I’m a Size 00,” written by another Odyssey content creator, Jessica Ulett. In it, Ulett wrote her frustrations about people assuming things about her because of her weight; namely, that she has an eating disorder and that she isn’t being fed enough. Almost every point I agreed with—body shaming is a disgusting aspect of how the industry exploits women’s insecurities!—but I was left with a thought that I had trouble digesting if you’ll excuse the pun.

The author herself had some questionable points—for example, calling out the “Real Beauty” campaign by Dove to be “skinny shaming”—but in reading the comments, she gracefully accepted criticism and clarified that her point was merely to highlight that the issue of body shaming goes both ways, "skinny" and "fat" women alike. Which brings me to a larger point of discussion: why are women taught to hate their bodies?

As someone who has always seen herself as overweight or perhaps just a bit curvier than most, I admit it’s hard for me to be truly empathetic to a person who is size 00, only because that was the size that I wanted to be my entire life. Every magazine I read praised the stars who looked “fit” and slammed the stars that “let themselves go” which was code for “looked like a normal adult woman.” (I say the word “normal” not because I think that skinny or thin people aren’t, but because the media puts out headlines like “She lost all her baby weight in 48 hours!” instead of “She just had twins let’s stop judging her body for like a second or two!”) Hollywood, in all of its blockbusters, equates a slender figure with beauty, time and time again. Think of the last five movies you saw--bonus points if it was a teen movie. Think of all the times that the word “fat” was used in a demeaning way. Think of the protagonist. Were they a spunky, plus-sized teen that didn’t have to lose weight to be pretty? Probably not, unless you’re watching Hairspray--which I highly recommend you do. No, it was probably something like Mean Girls where the thin and pretty Cady gets revenge on the equally thin and pretty Regina in the form of a Kalteen bar, causing her to gain a few pounds and still look thin and pretty. Or it was another movie where the “fat” character is pushed to the side as a quirky friend or weirdo or loner or obsessive freak. There are very little chances for bigger girls to shine in this world, which is why things like the Dove beauty campaign are so important, to showcase not only what different bodies look like, but how they can be beautiful.

Which brings me back to the reason why women can feel so insecure about their bodies: we are forced to believe that there is just one type of beautiful, one type of person that can be seen as attractive or sexy. In many ways, that ideal beauty is simply “thin,” but tabloids are quick to tell you that not every “thin” is the same; they will cry “eating disorder” every time a celebrity reaches a weight they deem unsexy. And it’s not just the media: men certainly have many standards that contribute to this (another reason why I will never listen to anything a man ever tells me). They want a girl who has a "thick" ass but a slim waist; big breasts but a small stomach. Being thin might get you comments like the ones Ulett wrote: "only dogs like bones" and "a real woman has curves." Bucket Hat Jones Who Never Smells Good wants a woman who weighs no more than 130 pounds, but manages to have a butt like Nicki Minaj. Weed Socks Darryl wants a blonde with size double D cups even though he has no idea what those letters even mean. And our good friend Creepy Guy Who Thinks He's Being Nice has a whole list of what he pictures his ideal woman to be, even though he is not willing to compromise on any parts of his life, especially his porn habit.

Because here’s a secret I’ll tell you, just between you and me: WE CAN NEVER WIN. There is no winning in the world where men dominate the conversation about women’s bodies. We’re too thin, too fat, too short, too tall, too hairy, too hairless, too wide, too narrow, too everything. Every girl, no matter what body size, has felt the wrath of judgment upon her. It sucks, quite frankly, it sucks that we have to try and put ourselves into tiny boxes in order to feel conventionally beautiful. So I stand with you, Unapologetic Size 00, I stand with your frustrations about being held up to this unreachable standard of beauty. To hell with pleasing nasty strangers who comment on your body, to hell with needing to be one way or another.

I myself am (Almost) Unapologetic Size 10 because sometimes I do catch myself harshly judging my body as others might. Sometimes I cry in the changing room when I have to go up another size. Sometimes I want to hate the people who have a flat stomach when I look down at my little chunk of cellulite. Sometimes I feel like overhauling my whole life to please some anonymous person who would look at me and think my thighs are too chubby. Sometimes it is hard not to give in to criticism. But most times, I feel beautiful and great and maybe even sexy, and there are many days where I can claim my body as it is, without worrying about any judgment. Also, and maybe the most important point of all: I know by loving myself in my body, some middle aged Caucasian man who has never worried a day about his own body image cannot profit off of my insecurities.

Just some food for thought for you and I, as I sit in my dorm room and munch on a bag of popcorn.

Yes I did eat the whole thing.

I’m not sorry about that.