photograph: pinterest

Dear Reader,

I was very insecure growing up. I held onto my baby fat for dear life and I was five inches taller than the rest of my peers. I didn’t know how to carry myself and I hated feeling like I was taking up space. 

Many unavoidable coincidences led me to feel this way. Too many in fact, making me feel like the universe was out to get me in some way. 

Halloween of 2015 is a great example. My friends and I were Pink Ladies for our elementary school’s annual Halloween parade. At the store, there were only two skirts, both sizes small. I was not a size small, so it only made sense for my two friends to get the skirts and that I wear a jacket. I cried after leaving the costume store and my mom thought it was because I was ungrateful. I was grateful, but I felt ugly and knew I was visually separated from my friends by the skirts and my body type.

Going to the doctor was a nightmare. Stepping on the scale, watching the nurse move the sliding piece further and further up. Google telling me the 93rd percentile didn’t mean I was the same height and weight as 93% of my peers. Feeling like I had to hide the disgusting amount of Fiber One bars I ate when I wanted to be “healthy” in my room so my mother wouldn’t find me stuffing my face. 

Now, a decade later, I’ve grown into my body. I have a healthy relationship with food and I thank my extra height and broad shoulders for evolving from chub to athletic. I pride myself it overcoming the extreme insecurity of my youth and loving my body not because it’s skinny now but because of all that it’s capable of. However, when I remember my younger self it’s hard to ignore the habits and anxieties I still share with her. 

When I sit down I always cross my arms over my stomach with my palms placed gently on opposite hips; I used to do this to hide my stomach roles and I still can’t relax in any other position. When the doctor asks me to get on the scale without telling me to take my shoes off my heart rate increases. When I see the Fiber One logo in the grocery store I have to suppress the primal urge to stuff as many bars in my pockets as possible and run. 

If asked, I’d say I was a secure person, happy with my appearance. Deep down, however, I know that certain things will always be with me. Being a chubby child is in my DNA and every defining characteristic of my personality stems from that. My humor, my compassion, my ability to write—these are all qualities I love that I attribute to being a big kid. But no matter how funny I am I’ll never hunch over when I’m in a bathing suit or round correctly when someone asks for my weight.

Love,

Isabella