Is ‘fat’ really the worst thing a human being can be? Is ‘fat’ worse than ‘vindictive’, ‘jealous’, ‘shallow’, ‘vain’, ‘boring’ or ‘cruel’?
– J.K. Rowling
We live in a country and culture obsessed with the physical appearance. A country where fairness creams sell like hot cakes in different brands, sizes and shade cards. Like its so normal to believe that since my skin has more melanin and absorbs the sun better than the fair skinned thin girl, I am not normal.
I’m sorry I am dark. And Fat, to add to it.
We are more focused on how we appear to be than how we really are; we focus on cultivating a life that other people perceive to be great as opposed to one that genuinely feels that way. It’s all an issue of being in a society that is caught up in the physicality of things, not the soul of them, and maybe the way we regard our bodies is the final frontier.
“Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder” and “Beauty is skin deep”. Read and understood. Never really given thought of action in our hypocritical world. I think we can all agree that superficial appearances matter very little, whether you’re talking about bodies, situations, relationships, or anything else. Although we know this in theory, actually applying it is difficult because our focus is largely – if not entirely – on our own and each other’s physical components. It’s hard to not feel like the look of our body is vastly more important than the quality of our character. It’s hard to feel like physical appearance doesn’t take precedence when it’s our chief focus.
As if being dark skinned was bad enough, I had to be a foodie and the one whose body type is largely built and broad shouldered. Perfect! I am now the one who is most spoken and looked at by all the kitty party aunties who are so bored with their life, they want to see how miserable and pathetic they can make anyone who catches their muse. Ta-Da… I’m right here!
So I love the chocolate cake, I love my mother’s cooking and splurge and indulge in everything I eat. I work hard all day and love to kick back with some ice cream or butter chicken with 4 chapatis. Yes 4! The evil 4.
I am not defending or justifying my reasoning for being fat or coming in a large package, yes I understand I would love good in that chiffon dress where my stomach doesn’t jut out. Yes, I know I must take care of my body and so on and so forth. All I want you to do is STOP JUDGING ME based on my body size.
And I’m fat and dark so the marriage is doubtful. Oh I need 10 other blogs to write my frustration on that logic. So, marriage harassment is not covered here. Period.
I am not going to eat all your food. I am not going to follow the diet you told me and drink maple syrup 2 times a day. I am not going to step on your foot and cause a fracture. I am not going to die of a heart disease. I am a grown women who obsesses about my appearance too. So, I will eat when I want to and starve when I want to. Just stop telling girls and women like me to be thin or fat.
If I lose weight, you will say, Oh my god… why have you lost weight. You need to eat some food. Doesn’t your mother feed you?
If I put on some weight, you will say, Oh dear… I think you need to control your food intake. Exercise more, come with me for walking, swimming, jogging. Mummy has spoilt you by giving you too much love.(Read: Mother cooks, Child eats=Love). She is fat but has a beautiful face. DON’T say that. It annoys me.
Why Lady Why? Your own mother posed her insecurities on you and you in turn transfer it to all the other women you find… Or worse, on your own daughter. How many mothers can confidently tell their daughters, “I look Beautiful today!” without the but? Everyone speaks in a tone which is followed by the But. But why?
Isn’t it a more courageous to stand out and be ambitious, smart, level-headed, generous, kind, independent, interesting, idealistic, opinionated, charming, original, funny – a thousand things, before ‘thin’ or ‘fair’?
I’ve got two sisters who will have to make their way in this skinny-obsessed fair skinned world, and it worries me, because I don’t want them to be empty-headed, self-obsessed, emaciated clones; And frankly, I’d rather they didn’t give a flying monkey’s shit whether the woman standing next to them has fleshier thighs than they do. Even if she did, that did not make her ugly. It made her courageous cause she can walk the same speed that you do, carry off the same skirt that you have and show off the new stocking she bought from Zara or Vera Moda… Just in a different size.
Everyone has their insecurities. So do I, don’t point them out to me, just like I don’t to you. You wont like me telling you how small your boobs or ass look when you want a larger size.
That being said, little girls need to be taught that they are beautiful by character and poise, not by the size of their clothing. Life is difficult for women as it is with the whole periods, puberty, hormones, sexual advances, unwanted attention, pregnancy, babies and menopause; Why would you put that pressure on some one who wants to feel beautiful. Just smile and say, “yes baby… you are beautiful!”. You aren’t lying.
I will wear my scars, my stretch marked skin with thunder thighs; My lady lumps that have a bra size that sounds like a bus number, my big butt that Sir Mix Alot sings about. I wear it like I let it grow and be. Toned, Gym trained or saggy and bulky. Let my girls be Adeles, Hermiones, Aishwarya Rais and Kajols, rather than size zeroed Kareenas and Victorias.