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unrelletable · 4 years ago

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The first thing I do when I enter any kind of new environment is to check out if I am the skinniest girl in the room. If the answer to that question is yes, I then usually proceed to relax and enjoy whatever activity I am there to do. It happened while I was in school, when I volunteered for a local non-profit organization, when I worked as a waitress for two months. But also when I started my six months internship, when I looked for my current flat, and it still does when I go shopping for clothes or when I take my dog out for his daily walks. I am pretty sure that this is going to be the first thing I will make sure to be aware of when I enter the first class of the year in a couple of weeks. And I guess it is needless to say I am quite tired of it.

I have never become fully concious of this little trick my brain plays on me until one day I found out that I had gained weigth. And people around me started to make me aware of it. I am not talking about pounds and pounds, but since I had been extremely thin for almost ten years, every new kilo showed on me. Even a single one. People had been complimenting me for my shape, and I had always thanked out loud my fast metabolism for it. When actually years before I had lost a considerable amount of weight due to pretty heavy treatments I had to go through because of a bone cancer. So we were definitely not talking lucky genes back then. In order to gain that weight back - we are talking about around fifteen kilos: I was 163 cm high and right after my last treatment session my body did not weigh more than 37 kgs - it took me quite a few years. According to the medical tables, my weight was finally considered healhty for my height, age and sex two years ago. Which meant that it took me exactly eight years to go back to be in an average shape.

But this is not what society and diet culture made me believe for the most part of those years - and still does. I can not recall how many times people had made amazed comments on how great I looked and how hard they wished their body could process food as fast as mine. I have always considered these affirmations as positive and never - even for a split second - questioned the fact that a visibly underweight body was considered the dream body by so many people. I was grateful for being so thin, and I have enjoyed fitting into the smallest pieces of clothing without the need of holding my breath or sucking my tummy in. Until I had to.

As I said, my current weight is perfectly average. I am not either too skinny or chubby. My tummy shows little rolls when I sit, but looks flat when I stand. I still wear size 4 jeans and I have never had to buy something sized M yet. I guess I still fit into the thin category, so according to the society that glorifies thigh gaps and visible collarbones I should not worry. Just yet. Unfortunately though, the diet culture we live in began to pull its strings on me at the very moment when I realized I was no more the skinniest girl in the room.

I do not know what came with the conciousness of being the girl who weighed less than any other. Probably the fact that I was succeeding at something, and that I would be noticed for it. I do not like being the centre of attention, but I literally loved when someone would point out how thin I was and started asking how I could manage to keep my body so fit. I have never explained the actual reason why I could wrap my fingers around my wrist and a twist them leaving out a considerable amount of space. Firstly, because I was not at a point in my life where I felt confident enough to speak about my cancer diagnosis, even though by that time I had completely healed; secondly, because I liked the fact that people thought that the shape of my body was something I had to take credit for. It made me feel as if I stood out in the crowd, not realizing that it was for a completely wrong reason.

The actual moment of realization that I had some issues about the way my body looked came around a year and a half ago, but I would say that did not have much of an impact until the beginning of the new year. By then I had found a internship and even though I had planned to, I did not have much time to invest in working out. Everything changed with the coming of Covid and the following quarantine: having tons of free hours felt like an obligation to exercise. And so I did.

Chloe Ting became my workout pal and the background music of her Five Weeks Shred Challenge’s videos my nightmare: I sweated for almost an hour every single day for more than a month and restricted my diet to the point where I would allow myself a treat only on Sunday. The very first weeks were the absolute worst: my tummy would groan constantly and I would feel hungry all the time. I would wake up hungry, be hungry after half an hour from breakfast, not feel satisfied at lunch and dinner, and I would literally go to bed with a hole in my stomach. The only snacks I had was fruit, and I did not eat any kind of carbohydrates apart from pasta at lunch. No bread, no biscuits, no crackers. For a good four months. Eventually my body got used to the lack of food, and started to burn calories from the inside. I lost a couple of kilos and my abs started to show, my legs became definitely more toned and I was almost completely cellulite-free.

But all I would do, all the time, was thinking about food. I would count down the days that were left until Sunday every week, and when that day would come I binged like there was no tomorrow. Causing myself to feel extremely nauseous for the next couple of days. In case I would eat something prohibited during the weekdays, I would feel extremely disappointed with myself, as if a single teaspoon of chocolate cream would actually make a difference. I would weigh myself almost every morning and feel an ache of pain in case the scale would detect a couple of hundred grams of difference from the previous morning. My goal was to finally gain a body like the ones overcelebrated on Instagram, but luckily I did not.

Around the middle of August it finally struck me. I had listened to one episode of a podcast series - for my fellow Italians, I am talking about Palinsesto Femminista - that shed the light on the topic of body positivity and its actual mean. It took me a good couple of days to process all the amazing things I had heard on that hour long conversation involving one of the two founders of the Belle di Faccia association, but eventually it did. I was minding my own businesses trying to decide whether I was allowed a slice of bread with Nutella for breakfast and all of a sudden I found myself asking Being skinnier would make me actually happier? And the straight answer to that was no.

I would love to say that for the past month it has been a walk in the park and that I have not felt guilty eating while eating crisps or having cookies with my morning tea, but I have to reckon that there has been a change. When I work out, I do it because I like the sensation I get aftewards and not because it would get me a step closer to my dream body. Even though I still eventually think that I will go back to eat in the way I did during quarantine, I have decided that in that case I will not restrict myself like I used to. I have realized that I want to eat clean for my body to feel good, and not in order to avoid a couple of tiny rolls on my stomach. I had to brainwash myself out of the concept that what I see online is the actual reality and that it should be the norm. Every body should be valid, regardless of their weight or shape. No one should feel forced to starve themselves in order to comply with an aesthetic that is simply not realistic. I have to say that online accounts like the ones of @/namastehannah and @/danaemercer have had a great impact on my approach to exercise and reality in the past months, and in case you are struggling with the same kind of unrealistic expectations about the way your body should look like I highly recommed that you check them out.

After six months of ups and downs in the relationship with my body image, I have come to the point that I definitely should try to worry less about the way I look. I went through something similar with the acceptance of my face, and back then not having to wear make up for half a year thanks to the fact that I had to look after to kids and knew no one in the neighbourhood kind of made me become more confident with showing my bare face. And since I had the chance to do it all over again thanks to self-isolation, I have learned to become familiar with the sleepy face I see everytime I wake up. And I have to admit that I actually started to like it. I am sure sure if I will brave enough not to put any kind of make up on when I go to classes, but we will just have to wait to find it out. Who knows.

Thus I am hoping that I will be able to go through the same process with my body as a whole as well. I am now concious of the fact that I do not have to necessarily love the shape I am in, but I simply need to accept it for what it is and all the things that it allows me to do on a daily basis. I now know that it can change a thousand times during my lifetime, or even a single day, and regardless of it, it will always be worth. Let’s be honest, most posts of flat tummies and toned booties are edited or posed anyway. So what I am going to try to do is to let go of these insanely unhealthy expectations and focus on what makes me feel good. Regardless of those around me or those who pop up on the explore page.

- body image issues and other stories

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