A rant on body image. Mine specifically.

Let’s start with what you already know.
I’m a 19 year old dreamer, artist, joker, crazy cat lady, loving auntie, loyal friend... et cetera.

I’m also short.

I’m also fat.

I also could not care less what you think about that. I’m not writing that so people can leap to say “oh no no no, you aren’t fat.” Because I’m not insulting myself – I am fat, chubby, curvy, rubenesque, whatever you’d like to say.

I am not a bad person because of it, and I am not a bad person for being comfortable in my own skin. I have been, in the past. Because people made me feel that way. People still try to. I still have days when I think, oh fuck, I’m gross. Because I’m human.

But I don’t have to feel that way. No-one does.

Let me get one thing straight. I am not saying this to decry people with insecurities, not in any way. You’re not a lesser person for being insecure, any more than I am a lesser person for liking myself a bit sometimes. Insecurities are natural, they are human. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope someone finds me attractive. But please don’t let your insecurities take over.

I went to an all girls’ school, and appearance is everything in that world. I have most certainly had my fair share and then some of jibes about my weight, of changing in the cubicles rather than the public changing rooms for the PE lessons in which I’d be made to feel like nothing, simply because I fail at sports.

But here’s the thing. Every time people say to me, “You don’t seem to care about losing weight.” – They are right. I honestly don’t. I am the girl who brings cakes and chocolates just to tempt, the girl who eats ice cream just because she can, who could quite happily live on pizza, pasta, or rice. So what? I eat! But surely, being a fatty, I ought to live on Ryvita and Yakult and seaweed so as to better my horrendous form! Surely I should deny myself that cookie. How dare I indulge myself in food, when you all work so hard at your appearances?

Some days I’d love to be a size 8. But the majority of the time I love me. From my deformed feet, my muscular calves, my thighs, hips, stomach, boobs, shoulders, right up to my gorgeous fuckin’ face. I am not ashamed to say that I love me.

Why should I feel bad for wearing skinny jeans, or a short dress, or a tight blouse, or a low cut shirt? Why should I feel bad for liking how I look in that mini dress that shows off my thighs? There is nothing wrong with me. I have beautiful clothes, and I like to wear them.

You should also know that I do not subscribe to the whole, “Real women have curves” ideal, the whole “fuck the media, skinny is horrible” – because there is no one definition of a real woman. We are all beautiful, in whatever shape or form.

I’m also going to say about the whole, being “ugly” thing. I’m not. And I don’t think it’s egotistical to say it. I see beauty everywhere, am surrounded by gorgeous people who don’t see it. I want them to see what I see in them.

But back to my face, since we’re being vain. I have a wide face, high prominent cheekbones, soft cheeks, strong jaw. My nose has been a point of contention in the past, and it has been broken twice. It’s bumpy, it’s Roman. I like it. My lips are not plump, but they are what they are. And my eyes are nice, so are my eyebrows. I rarely pluck my eyebrows and I don’t give a shit. On the subject of my face, let’s talk makeup.

If I want to go out with no makeup on, I’m not lazy, or depressed, or ill. Sometimes I don’t have time. Sometimes I just want to give my skin a breather. If I want to go out with a lot of makeup on, I’m not high maintenance, or a tart, or vain. And if I want to sleep in my makeup and wear yesterday’s eyeliner out, just because I like how it looked – who cares? It’s all transient. Sometimes I wear my makeup as a shield, sometimes as an extension of me. Either way, whether I wear it or not, none of that changes who I am.

I guess the entire point of this self aggrandising bullshit is, that I am utterly sick of the misconception that liking yourself as you are = vanity. Because I’m not skinny, because I’m not active, because I’m not one of “that” crowd and never have been (always been one of the misfits) I should not be content with myself, I should want to better myself. I should be called “that fat lesbian”, I should smile sweetly at the girl who said if I fell down the stairs of the bus I’d “probably bounce” and I should want to lose weight and be just like them. How about being happy with who I am?

There have been people in my life who made a point of saying how much they hated their looks. Every hour, on the hour, you could make a tally.

“I hate mirrors.”
“My face is just so fucking ugly.”
“I wish I wasn’t so fat.”
“I wish I wasn’t so skinny.”
“My nose is huge.”
“I hate having spots.”

I got sick of feeling bad that I wasn’t feeling bad about myself all the time. But I know that when you’re a teenage girl 99% of the things you say are for attention. So the girls saying that would get the cluster response, “Oh you’re beautiful, shut up!”

I also want to be completely honest here, and say a couple of things that I’ve never told anyone.

Firstly, something that some people know: I do have scars on my body, and I love them all the same. I have self harmed in one form or another since I was 9 years old and it’s an ongoing battle but it gets better. I’m not in a position to tell you, don’t do it or stop doing it or get help, because it has to be your choice. I don’t do it for attention. I don’t do it to prove any points. It is just a bit of a reflex to me. I am most definitely over the worst of the addiction as it were; however I have a long way to go.

Also, a brand new thing. I’m still figuring out who I am. I don’t know what label you put on it but I think sometimes I’m more than one person. Most of the time I am girl!Charlotte. But there are times when I don’t feel that way and I don’t want to. So sometimes, I feel like a boy.

In conclusion then

- I am marvellous.

- You are marvellous

- Everything is marvellous, so eat some cookies.

If you’re reading this, let me tell you – you are a beautiful person. You’re a thermodynamic miracle. You deserve to smile. The world is a better place because you are in it, and you cannot be replaced.

I know it isn’t always that simple – but in among all the “You’re not good enough”, I want to tell you that you’re not good enough – you are better than.