Ah, body image.
The infamous concept that many of my generation (and those before & after me) have struggled with. With the strong emphasis of beauty over all other traits, the instant access of filtered photos, pencil thin models, and the generally appalling lack of diversity, its easy to see why self-confidence issues are as prevalent as they are. All of this culminates in an over-achingly narrow perception of beauty that slaps us (consciously or not) in the face hundreds, if not thousands of times a day through marketing and advertisements.
I was not immune to any of this. I grew up so uncomfortable in my own skin. People are always shocked to hear that I felt like the ugly duck of the family, the black sheep amidst my beautiful sisters and parents. Acne aside, I was horrified by my large thighs and big ole butt that no one else in grade 6 seemed to have. I was ashamed when I first got my period in grade 5. As a teenager, I wished my breasts were bigger and my waist was thinner. I was obsessed with intense workout regimens in an effort to dispel the “disfiguring cellulite”. I frequently poked at my soft stomach and willed it to tighten. Stared horrifyingly in the mirror at my minimal arm flab. Add in the fact that I am Indian and we come out of the womb coated in hair (IYKYK). Yet I don’t have the lusciously thick mane of hair on my head (as hairdressers always love to point out). I was always so aware of the size of my nose. And ever so disheartened by my not oval, but heart shaped face. I wished I was a little taller, a little fairer, a little prettier, a little less-acne faced.
I wish I could tell you that this was simply immature teenage thinking. But that would be a blatant lie. I only recently started dismantling these maladaptive thoughts. In fact, only in the last two years have I started to see my own beauty. Appreciate my bold features. Love my body. Celebrate my curves, cellulite and all.
Being newly single after a seven year relationship forced me to learn to self soothe. To shower myself in compliments. To begin to feel beautiful organically, not because my partner was telling me so. Adding on to that, the birth of my two nieces in the last two years has forced me to confront my maladaptive thinking head-on. I NEVER want them to view their bodies in the negative light that I have. I never want them to feel like they must conform to the warped and pervasive perception of beauty that suffocates us. I want them to beam proudly as their Massi (Aunt) dismantles these notions and strives to build a healthier standard of beauty one blog post at a time.
So next time you look at yourself and think, “ugh, ew”, stop yourself. Back up, rewind and remember that beauty comes in ALL shapes and forms and colours and textures and sizes. You only have one body, and the job it does every moment of every day to keep you alive is pretty damn amazing.
So lets all give ourselves the grace that we deserve. It is time to stop playing by society’s books and write your OWN definition of beauty.
SINCERELY MILLIE 