Since I haven’t figured out if/how I can back-date posts on here, I’ll just post this thing now. Some of you have read it before since I posted it on Facebook too, but here’s the deal.
I’ve had this story idea in the back of my head for a while now. I have had the intention of getting it posted or published in some magazine or something, but never really got any farther than writing it and keeping it on my computer (it was written approximately Fall of 2007). Here goes.
It’s hard to believe I’ve gotten to this point. As a young girl I relished the summer days when I could run around barefoot in my shorts, tank tops, and bikini swim suits. When faced with this same thought this past summer however, I was distressed (yet somehow glumly unsurprised) at the fact that my shorts from the summer before didn’t fit, and I cringed at the idea of being out in public in my swimming suit. Don’t even get me started on the debacle called Shopping for New Clothes. My ever-patient husband gently tried to ease my anguish by reminding me that he loved me regardless of how I looked, and that he still found me desirable (despite me obsessing about my larger thighs and extra inches around the middle).
The fact that I had given birth to an 8-pound beautiful baby girl the September before not-withstanding, I still had that niggling “I feel fat” voice in my head. This little voice astonished me because when I was a young girl, I thought that I would always love my body no matter what. This, mind you, was before I entered the cruel world of modern ideals regarding women and beauty.
It seems to be that in our society, the fashion industry’s sizing for women’s clothing gets smaller and smaller. This only serves to do one thing for us Real Women. It makes us think that we are, in fact, too large…too curvy…too much. It’s been found that the average-sized woman today is not a size 2. She is a size 14. This, ironically, is the size at which the “plus-size” section begins. The majority of real women do have curves.
A female novelist that I have come to adore, Jennifer Weiner has written several books about the Real Woman. In my favorite of her novels, “Good in Bed,” she depicts an endearing character Cannie who not only has biting wit and intelligence to spare, she develops a wonderful sense of self, learning to love herself as she is, regardless of the way her body (and life) should be. I could learn a lot from Cannie. Since having my baby I have had to come to accept the fact that I probably won’t ever fit into my beloved 30-inch waist jeans and that my husband’s pajama pants fit me better than most of my own. (The fact that they are more comfortable is just a bonus for me.)
I am also learning that my new body, my body with more curves, rolls, and amplitude should be a badge of pride rather than a cause for shame. I should only see my new body as a testament to true womanhood and is a true example of femininity, allure, and mystery.
So here it is, ladies: do we let ourselves be sucked into the “I’m Fat” vacuum of the female mind, from which it is almost impossible to escape? Or do we accept our bodies as they are? Welcome the knowledge that WE ARE the average woman. We are NORMAL! Think about it. More is better, right?