Let’s start with this: I’m actually really proud of how far the beauty and fashion industries have come in the past few years in terms of embracing bodies of all sizes and shapes. For example, Aerie’s “Real You” campaign is fantastic. No retouching? Yes, please! Realistic body standards FTW. But there’s another side to body positivity that isn’t touched upon very often, and sometimes it bothers me a little bit. Body shaming comes in many forms, and sometimes positivity doesn’t seem quite so inclusive.
I’ve been on both sides of the body spectrum, once before as a chubby fourth grader whose biggest fear was going to a pool party in a two-piece, and today, at 21 and a size double zero. Society often pushes and glorifies the concept of skinniness, telling us that being skinny will make us popular, beautiful, healthy, the list goes on. So it was only natural that as a skinny person, I was expected to be happy with myself. Over the years, I’ve found that I have a problem with this. There was a point in my life where skinny felt like the most important thing, the one thing I always needed to be. And around the same point in my life I learned something the hard way: there is no “perfect body.” The so-called “perfect body” will always be unattainable; you will always look in the mirror and feel that compared to the models in the magazines, you are too short, your thighs too wide, your shoulders too broad, your stomach not flat enough. And despite the fact that my size was technically what society approved as the “beautiful size,” there came days that my body, compared to that of others, also gave me things to be insecure about. However, the sad truth was this: When I was around other people, I never felt comfortable confiding in them regarding my insecurities. The response was always something along the lines of, “Why do you feel that way? You’re a skinny girl. These shouldn’t be things you’re worried about.”
What I sometimes feel that people do not fully understand is that skinny is not synonymous with invincible. Skinny can also leave room for insecurity, and sometimes, vulnerability. While I consider myself an overall confident person, often times comments like these seemed to disregard my insecurities solely based on the type of body I had. But isn’t this the opposite of body positivity? Shouldn’t the body positivity movement include all of us, stress to all of us that each body, and each type of insecurity is valid? I would sometimes find myself wondering if I was wrong to feel bad about myself, or if it was a bad idea for me to admit these things aloud. Contrary to most belief, confidence is not always inversely proportional to the number on the back of your jeans.
Everyone has days when they feel that they look slightly off, days when every photo seems to look strange, and every outfit seems to hang a little differently than it normally does. This is not exclusive to certain body types. Insecurities are normal, and they become easier to overcome when our fears and concerns are validated by the support of those around us. No one is immune to insecurity and doubt, and understanding this can help put the body positivity movement into gear (more so than it already is, I mean).
Photo Credits:
Greatist.com