I haven’t liked my body since the age of 7. Saying that out loud sends shivers down my spine because it means that I have spent nearly ¾ of my life disliking myself. Now, in the second half of my twenties, I’m finally learning to be at peace with myself and learning to love what I look like. But why has it taken so long to weed out that thought pattern rooted in my brain since childhood?
Words: Johanna Raudsepp
Image: Author’s own (2018)
This past year entirely shifted my perspective on many things, I believe, similarly to a lot of other people. At a time when there’s a global pandemic roaming around you can’t help but reflect on life’s deeper meaning. In the first months of the pandemic, I gained about 10kg. At a stage where I was already at my heaviest, the scale shocked me once again. And seeing some digital numerical on a screen led me on a downward spiral mentally. However, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel — today I can say, that’s where my healing truly began.
See, before the age of seven I never really noticed that I was different. Nobody treated me as such. Then suddenly all changed. I started school, and in PE class we had to line up by height. I was the second tallest kid in class, up there with boys. It was the first time I thought to myself, “Is it weird that I’m this tall?”. In second grade during recess, a boy from my class came up to me and said, “You’re fat,” and ran off to giggle with his mates. Innocent as that was to him, it was the first time I thought to myself, “Am I too big? Am I fat?”. I was never a chubby kid; I was just simply bigger than my peers in height and in build. But I guess that, combined with my academic achievements, was enough to stand out like a sore thumb and become the subject of bullies.
Image: Author’s own (2014)
All I wanted to do was hide away, and not to be seen, because they made it clear to me that I didn’t fit in. I didn’t have the right clothes, I didn’t look or behave a certain way that was considered cool. Soon enough, my body started changing, too, and the hatred towards being in my own skin grew along with my hips and my boobs. There were mornings when I’d make myself throw up to show I’m sick just, so I didn’t have to go to school. The voices from people around me, adults and teens alike, echo in my brain to this day. “You’re not feminine enough; ladies don’t walk like that; what are other people going to think of you if you don’t stand up straight; all that candy is going to go to your hips; you shouldn’t eat this much, it’s not good for your figure; you need to lose weight or else you’ll only grow wider…”. I just didn’t want to deal with that anymore.
Those echoes followed me well into high school, into university, into life. I have been called a slut, even though I wasn’t and never have been sleeping around. I have been called average and not special, because people didn’t understand what others saw in me, and I believed that. I have been called arrogant and cocky, when I tried to stand up for myself, so that people wouldn’t walk all over me. I have been called fat, because I don’t fit the bill when it comes to beauty or body type. And because of all of this, I spent years hating myself.
I’m not going to lie — it’s still a struggle sometimes. But I’m getting there. What definitely has helped is seeing more clothing companies cater to different body types and sizes. With the help of my friends, I’ve also started to acknowledge my achievements and tried to see myself through their eyes. It can be a lonely world in my overthinking brain. I guess just like your own voice sounds strange to you when you hear it back, so does everything else about you? It’s taken some getting used to. However, I’m grateful for those who have seen me for who I am underneath all this fear and insecurity and who have stood by me and helped me see that.
Image: Author’s own (2021)
Because it doesn’t matter how many diets or exercises or whatnot you do. That feeling of not being good enough does not go away. You can lose kilos, but that doesn’t mean you will magically start to love yourself. That’s a longer process that required me to really dig deep to the roots of the problem. Getting to the roots, however, is a different journey for everyone, and I can’t tell you how to do it. But just like a story, you can’t start halfway through. You have to start from the beginning to understanding everything else that follows.
I’ve seen and heard so many stories from people of all shapes, sizes and genders struggle with body image. For me, it took a global pandemic, yet another 10kg and a rollercoaster of mental stress to feel that I can do things; that I am good enough, and most importantly, to start loving myself. Looking back now, I feel silly for hating my body for all these years. Silly, because my body is strong and beautiful just the way it is. I wasn’t fat, or too tall, or too big. I was just me. I feel joy today because I’m a tall curvy girl with a big bum and I’m owning it. And it feels liberating.