Guysssssss, I’m SO fat.
Really, I’m not. I weigh 65kgs (I may have rounded that down a little) but well, I’m average.
I’m not tiny, but I’m pretty healthy and every now and again I get whistled at by a front-toothless taxi driver, so I should be pleased.
I’m not fat, but I feel fat.
…And I don’t think its all my fault.
I remember watching Beverley Hills 90210 at primary school and Tori Spelling appeared in a beach scene. As she slow motionly jogged across the sand with her hair majestically whipping and the sun kissing her perfectly bronzed skinned a classmate spat out “wow she needs to tone up if she’s gonna run in that tiny costume”
Ok heaven knows why we were watching 90210 and more importantly why 12year old boys were shown half naked women while they should of been doing geometry. But I digress.
Tori Spelling people, Tori freaking Spelling needed to “tone up”.
If I ran on the beach would the jiggling of my NOT perfectly rounded butt make guys throw up in their mouths a little? Was I… gross? All I knew at 13 was that I was definitely no Tori Spelling, and if she needed to “tone up”? Then I needed a Unicorn and a Genie to procreate because it would take a Genie Unicorn to make me beautiful.
And thats how it all began. The great battle between proper health and perceived beauty. A losing battle.
With age I’m realizing that you have to know which battles to fight in order to win the war and I’m done with these internal daily draining ones.
It’s strange though, because I’m a strong independent confident woman (I may have said that with finger snaps because I’m….. kinda badass.) I very rarely get scared or intimidated. I speak up. BUT I can convince myself that I am insignificant and sometimes ugly in the blink of an eye, especially if that eye happens to fall on the goodness-knows-how-they-stay-perky-like-that boobs and ridiculously small waist of thaaaat girl at the gym. Why can’t you just wear missed matched training gear and sweat like the rest of us?
I swear, the most dangerous place in the world for my body, is my mind.
I can rattle off something I’m not happy with on most parts of my body … But I won’t. Not any more.
I’ve always had a strange nose and there really is nothing I can do about how I was born but last week I came across a picture of Ashlee Simpson and I wonder how she lives with it too?
And its winter so my lips are a little dry…..like Angelina Jolie’s sometimes are.
Goodness knows how I live with my not perfect teeth like Kirsten Dunst.
And sometimes I get a little chunky like Oprah Winfrey or….Tyra Banks.
Shame, poor me.
Comparison stole my Joy. And now I’m taking it back.