Alright peeps, this is going to sound pathetic, but about five minutes ago, I realized that I am not fat. I know—ridiculous, right? I’m not going to tell you how tall I am or how much I weigh, but lately (as in the past few months) I’ve been feeling rather short and pudgy. This is probably due to my late night eating (hey, by the time midnight rolls around, my stomach is growling) and ‘oh who cares’ attitude during those particularly depressed periods. Since these sort of things happen a lot, you can see why I might have added a bit of extra pudge. Oh no—I’m getting hips and there is no longer a smooth line from my torso to the thighs of my size 0 jeans. Gasp.
I’m not one to get too caught up in fashion, cosmetics, hair, etc. I’d say I indulge in a reasonable amount of new clothes, shimmery stuff (I bought my first blush and eye liner this year! Not because my parents wouldn’t let me or anything. I just… was… lazy? Who knows. I’d borrow my mom’s if I needed it before…), and hair products. So basically, I am pretty level-headed when it comes to these things. No manicures, no highlights, no fake tans, no fake eyelashes… you get the idea. However, don’t get the impression that I’m condemning you if you do embrace any of these beauty enhancers. I mean, I wouldn’t say no to a Vera Wang formal or over-priced cosmetics from Sephora or a year-long natural tan if they were given to me…
I’ve been disillusioned by the fashion industry. I eat up America’s Next Top Model, and I shun it all the same. Magazines are filled with gorgeous models with clear skin, long legs, shiny hair, and pearly smiles—let’s face it: I will always have some blemish or red spot on my face, I have to roll up jeans to fit my Asian legs, my hair cooperates about 10% of the time, and even though I’ve had braces, my teeth aren’t perfect. So when I look in the mirror, I see a disproportionate freak with a big nose and a smile that makes me look like one of my quirky troll dolls. Cute, but in a weird, kinda creepy way…
As I’m not a guy, I’m not sure what you menfolk think about all of this. Is your perfect girl that size 0, five-foot-ten, blonde bombshell? I guess my thought—I’m sure oodles of other girls and women will identify with this—is that I worry guys only want the girls like the Miss USA contestants. Even if he loves you and marries you, he’ll always secretly wish he had the tall gall with the cute nose. I’m worried the sentiments of someone I know are more popular than I realized, and that horror reached me when she said, “I am not friends with fat people. None of my friends are fat.” By fat, I think she meant a couple ounces of fat and non-rock-hard-abs. This terrified me—would someone avoid my friendship because I was fat? Then I remember that time a guy-friend poked my leg and said something like, “Oh my gosh, you have no muscle!” Sorry I’m a girl and I have a curve that is not defined by muscle.
There have been times when, in fits of self-loathing, I tell myself what a fat cow I am and I shouldn’t eat anything but spinach and green tea. It’s horrible that I should ever have had these thoughts, because really, when I see myself next to someone who’s wearing a size 7 pair of jeans, I realize how my perceptions of my body are way out of whack. Size 7 is normal, people, and I’ve been telling myself I’m FAT for goodness sake… I know. HOW RIDICULOUS.
I know this is something I’m going to have to work on. Maybe it means not watching the Miss USA pageant (bad idea), not flipping through magazines, and not watching America’s Next Top Model. I honestly don’t know what it is going to take to revolutionize my way of thinking—no matter how skinny I am, I have a feeling I will always feel like there is something wrong with me. Damn Twiggy! (Not really but you know what I mean.) I believe she had quite the part in changing the ideal woman from Marilyn to… toothpick girl. (Okay I’m getting all PC here. If you are naturally a toothpick, embrace it. But don’t starve yourself to get there. If you’re BMI is getting unhealthy, cut back on the ice cream and go for a run.)
“that size 0, five-foot-ten, blonde bombshell”
Perfect girl? No. Physically-attractive? Maybe yes.
As a man, that isn’t the kind of girl I aspire to be with. It isn’t even ideal. Every man probably has his own ideal woman but the stereotypical blonde bombshell is just a social myth created by Hollywood. At least that’s my opinion.
I understand what you’re trying to say about constantly feeling that something is wrong with you because I do feel that too. For me, it’s a self-esteem issue. The more I compare myself to others, the more I feel that I’m as fat and ugly as hell. That’s pretty inconvenient, so I try to expel such comparisons.
I just try to feel good in the things I wear and hold my head up high. I think it’s infectious. How you feel about yourself is somehow communicated to others by some odd chemical released by your body. Don’t you think?
But if you have to ask what I really think of myself, well, I have a disproportional body, a receding hairline, a flared tooth, a ton of facial scars, and a whole lot more unpleasant features. That description makes me look like some kind of monster but that’s why they say that your worst enemy is yourself. I guess that’s also why no man is an island because if I had to think about myself all day, I would probably have to go shoot myself…
…in the mirror that is. Haha, I’m not suicidal.
Self-perception is such a great topic because the whole civilized world is haunted by it. Beauty and vanity is so highly paid for by a lot of people nowadays that it’s simply ridiculous. Well, if those people died today, then all that self-improvement they spent on was useless.
By the way, I’m asian too.
This is a very touching entry. I understand what you’re saying, including the whole embracing/shunning vanity shows like ANTM and Miss X (I watched Miss USA last night). *guilty*.
For me, I look at all the wannabe/popular people and revel over how they just look that good because of a thousand little beauty enhancers. But at the same time, in my private moments I can’t help thinking about wearing fake lashes year-round too or ..getting up at 4 or 5 in the morning to beautify myself. Hahaha. The thought cracks me up.
The thing that I most identify with is the part about rolling up your jeans to fit your Asian legs. That cracks me up so much. No one else understands. But apparently you do! Chris and Em somehow don’t have to, because they’re 3s. But because of my thunder thighs I have to wear a 5, which I think are longer on the actual leg length? and I end up looking really disproportionate. I mean, even more.
I can’t believe that person who so openly condemn fat people. What is her problem? Does she think she’s going to be toned for the rest of her life or something? Either pregnancy or old age is going to catch up with her and she’ll know what it really means to not like yourself if her perception persists.