Good afternoon all! I hope each of you are enjoying this lovely Saturday afternoon as much as I am. I am currently nestled in the little hammock swing that hangs from the tree in our backyard, overlooking my little town and enjoying the sun's warm rays that I am fortunate enough to see at least 364 days of the year here in California.
My happy place :)
I wanted to share a conversation I had a few nights ago that truly opened my eyes to the way that males perceive different female body shapes; specifically, the thigh gap.
My boyfriend and I went on a triple date Tuesday night (so much fun!) and afterwards, the six of us went to my boyfriend's house to hang out for a bit. We were all gathered in his room discussing everything from parents, to work, even feet (Yes, feet. Don't ask). One random topic led to another, and before I knew it the conversation had evolved to something that, given my past, can be difficult for me to talk about.
Me: Did Macy go off to college yet? I haven't heard from her all summer.
Friend A (female) : I don't know, I haven't heard much from her either.
Friend B (male): That girl has the weirdest legs.
Now, to be completely honest, I knew exactly what he was referring to. I will discuss this further in a moment, but first I feel I should give you a bit of background information.
Macy is one of those girls that everyone absolutely adores and envies. Not only is she unbelievably beautiful and constantly receiving compliments from other girls regarding her "perfect body," but she is extremely intelligent, athletic, and one of the most uniquely creative people I have ever met. I first met her at the beginning of my senior year in high school, about a month into recovery. Despite the fact that she is the same age, height, hair color, has the same eye color, and even took the same classes as I did that year, those mean voices convinced me I could never measure up to Macy's seemingly flawless persona. I found myself obsessively comparing myself to her, and the more I did, the more shame I felt towards myself. Do not take this lightly when I say comparison truly is the enemy.
So there I stood in this extremely delicate situation. I did not want to act passively and let Friend B's comment slide, however I also didn't want to to get defensive over a mindless comment. I settled on the idea that simply playing dumb might be a good decision.
Me: What do you mean?
Friend B: Well, okay. So you know how most girls, their thighs make like a V shape at the top? Well Macy's are like-- like a square. You know what I mean? Like instead of making a V it's just this big empty space up there. It's not normal.
Here is an innocent, non-eating disordered teenage boy mind telling me that thigh gaps are weird. (Note: the term "thigh gap" was never actually mentioned in the conversation because it was clear he wasn't aware such a thing existed. And I was sure not to bring it up--the fewer people in this world who know about the thigh gap phenomenon, the better) I cringe knowing I spent my senior year so envious, angry even, at the fact that my that by body did not naturally have that thigh gap. And to think, while so many girls (including myself) longed to possess her figure, the majority of boys found it unhealthy looking. Strange, isn't it?
There were points in my life when I absolutely loathed myself because I didn't think the space between my thighs was wide enough. For a long time, I let my muscles deteriorate, I let my long, blonde, hair fall out because I thought achieving this unattainable goal might give me the slightest chance of earning someone's approval as a person. In retrospect, I see that the only approval I longed for was my own.
For years I shamed myself for not having a perfect body, perfect skin, perfect hair, perfect grades, perfect social skills. There were times during recovery when I longed to go back. I missed being dangerously underweight, I craved the feeling I got when I had somehow convinced myself that with each pound I lost, the more control I gained. And now? Now, I conjure up memories from those times and try to fathom why, why did I do that to myself? Now, I wish I could go back and tell myself not to fall victim to the eating-disordered voice inside my head. I wish I could have told myself to love the healthy body I was born with. But I can't. Time machines have not yet been invented, which leaves me with no choice but to fight and conquer the eating disorder voices inside my head.
I never imagined I would be capable of attacking such obstacles, but here I am. I can't go back in time, but I can sure as hell make the choice to fight these demons and ensure I will never go back to that place of self-hatred. It is a work in progress, but I have come so far. My legs don't make a "square shape at the top" anymore, but that is okay. My legs make a V-shape at the top. That is okay. I am healthy, and I am happy. That is more than okay.
