As some of you may know, it is bluebonnet season in central Texas. Spring brings with it a burst of color to an otherwise parched, colorless land. Fields of blues dot the landscape and bring with it the promise of renewal (and tornado season.) In Texas there is an age old tradition of taking bluebonnet pictures. Every child in the state has photo albums and picture frames of springtime white and country blue. It is tradition, and at almost 33, I must admit still I succumb.
Yesterday I was out with friends, taking graduation photos of my friend Logan. Like many, I have a shiny digital camera and fancy myself an amateur photographer. It was my favorite class in high school after all. While out taking Logan’s graduation pictures, it was only natural that we should choose a field of bluebonnets to set the stage.
Happy graduation, darling!
Ladies!!!
While out, Zack and his 3 year old son, O, joined us in the park. A few short moments of being in the sun. We had finished Logan’s pictures and had moved on to the fun shots. Sunlight, friends, cool wind, it doesn’t get much more Texas springtime than that. We were together, out in the world, enjoying the day. I was incredibly happy.
When it came time to take my pictures, I made a passing comment to Logan without even thinking. “Just get my head, ok? My body is gross.” A common thought, one I have everyday almost, gotta get that selfie angle, you know the one, I call it the “Fat Girl” angle, up and to the left. It often hides the body and defines the facial structure that I would have if I lost 200 lbs. The problem with this, of course is that it is disparaging. It is a sort of self hate that comes from everything, society, advertising, mean girls, the list could go on.
As soon as the words left my mouth, O parroted them. “Rhie’s body is gross.” Of course I quickly recanted, saying it was only a joke and really, I am perfectly awesome in every way. Hyperbole, sure. But that works with 3 year olds. I am happy to report that O went home that night and at some point told his mom that he was “Perfectly O in every way.” I only hope that is all he holds in his impressionable mind.
Cropping images is a skill I have quickly adapted in our digitalized, social media world.
I love O’s family, and I am often in their home, and I have noticed that I am one of the few people in O’s life who look like I do. And it strikes me that my own ingrained self-hatred and oft poor self-image is easily transferable to a young, impressionable mind. How simple would it be for a 3 year old who spends significant amounts of time with a Fat Girl to internalize the carelessly spoken words about her body and begin to see others in that light. I will choose my words far more carefully around him in the future.
But that begs the question, if those words are impactful to a young and developing mind – if that poison can seep in and take hold, and that is a concern as an adult in that child’s life – then how could it not impact the soul-deep person buried deep beneath the layers of survival and adulthood that we’ve built up? And is that the story we want to give ourselves as Fat Girls at large? I don’t see other Fat Girls and find them gross. In fact I prefer the filled out figures and forms aesthetically. I would never tell another Fat Girl that her body is gross, indeed I would exalt with them their beauty. Why is it ok for us to tell ourselves we are less than perfectly awesome in every way? Maybe it actually isn’t.
This is such a sensitive topic, layers deep; how do we unravel it? The truth of my body is that I am not healthy, and that stems directly from my weight. Is that true of every Fat Girl? ABSOLUTELY NOT.
Ugh, I’m too cute.
It is the truth of this one. And I am working on that, behind the scenes, taking steps all my own to improve my health. To be able to walk more than half of a block, to be able to breathe and sleep more soundly. To stop my feet from swelling and my back from hurting. These are my truths in this body. These are so many factors in my personal self-hatred. Should I hate my body because it harms me? I shouldn’t. In fact, it is only through loving this body that I decided to take care of it.
I must impress that I believe you can be healthy as a Fat Girl. Many of my friends are. I am not. I will lose weight on my own personal journey, that I will likely not share here, because we aren’t here to push an agenda of self-hate, and this world is filled to the brim with Fat shamers, I refuse to be one of them.
The self speech I use impacts me just as strongly as it does a growing mind. It reinforces all of the norms that tell me I am less than because of this body. It buys into the advertising industry that tells me my worth stems from my body, that tells me indeed that as a woman I am no more than a tool used to sell you capitalism. Consume to perfection
But it’s a lie. The world that tells you that you are less than amazing is only trying to sell you the next big thing. The next diet, the hottest designer (who refuses to produce anything larger than a size 6US), the right makeup, the right purse. We are condensed down to objects in every sense of the word, every day that we walk out the door, turn on the television, scroll through the page. We are more than the sum of our wallets and vaginas. The internalized hatred doesn’t come from our selves, it comes from our world. And every time we speak against ourselves, we buy into a culture that hates us because we are perfect how we are.
You are loved. By someone. And if you don’t know that you are, know that you are loved by me. I know that you are beautiful, I know that you struggle, I know that the world some days makes you not want to leave the house. Imagine the things we say to ourselves that we would NEVER say to a friend, not even a stranger. We deserve the compassion we bestow upon children. I will work every day to change the way I speak to myself. I don’t believe in Fat-shaming, and that starts in me.