Confessions of a Skinny B*tch

TITLE DISCLAIMER
Confession #1: Swearing is like the visible bra strap for the face - it's not ladylike or classy, and while it may be sported in the privacy of your own home, it is not to be broadcast before the general public.

I did, however, feel the need to "level the playing field", so to speak.

I am skinny. Have been my entire life. By no effort of my own. (The last part makes me the bitch.) It is as much a part of me as my name and blood type, and even one of those can be changed with the right amount of money and effort.

I was born blonde and remained that way for many years until...I wasn't. I changed it. And people were equally pleased and appalled. "So adventurous & daring!" "What happened?" "I wish I was brave enough to try that!" "Where's the cute little blonde girl I know?" "You can pull off both colors!" "You don't fit in with your family now." For whatever reason, the negative comments didn't phase me. Which was out of character for me at the time. But it was one of the most interesting human "studies" I've ever inadvertently conducted.

Being skinny is in my jeans. And even my skinny jeans are more of a "boot cut" on me. Heh. (*crickets chirping*) Anyway, yes, my father is tall and skinny. And I am very much a close replica of him in a number of ways. It is who I am right now. I realize it is who I have been for almost 30 years, but who's to say it won't change one day?

For a little over a year, I was in, what was supposed to be, a very close-knit group of women my age (whom I've known for several years). We were to offer support, encouragement, prayer, praise, and laughs together. And we were able to do that pretty well. Except...

Except when the other gals started talking weight-woes. Suddenly, it was as if I was no longer relevant, as if I had left the room, presumably to go "eat whatever I want". No one would make eye contact with me, even though my heart hurt because they were hurting. Even though I wanted to find practical methods of encouragement and pray for strength & motivation for them. I even made the embarrassing gaffe of trying to express my own personal struggle with weight. Except...

Except my "struggle" flew in the face of every tear-filled statement they had made. Because my struggle was not the same as theirs, it was not only invalid, but offensive. And the predictable eye-rolls, grunts of disgust & disdain, and silent mental slights were abundant. And I probably left the room to go eat something.

I remember one of the most painful times of my life. Not physically, mind you, but emotionally. My pregnancy. Some women bask in the glow of the miracle they are facilitating. They pursue photography sessions and bikinis and maternity lingerie. And I...well, to say I avoided those things would be a gross understatement. It was the first time in my life, with the exception of naturally growing taller/older, that I gained weight. And it horrified me. In my mind, though I never said it aloud or consciously thought it, my "standard" weight was a part of my name when people said it; part of my reflection in the mirror; part of every memory I've ever had; part of every homework assignment or sentence I completed. PART OF WHO I PHYSICALLY/MENTALLY/EMOTIONALLY was.

I gained 25 lbs on the dot during my pregnancy. Doctors/nurses said that was great, that it was on the low-end, but still in the healthy range and that many women would be jealous of me. Oh goodie. That still didn't make ME feel any better about ME.

I told a couple of girlfriends just the other day: skinny girls are not always the happiest girls.

Now, before you go rolling your eyes at my alleged "plight", hear me out:
The general public associates "thin-ness" with "attractiveness". Whether that is accurate or not is for the individual to discern. But what is true is that, in general, thin women are watched and examined and lusted after and envied and love-hated. All...the...time. At any given moment, several pairs of eyes are waiting for her to show any, please-God-any, signs of ugly/unflattering/clumsy/or even stupid behavior simply for the reminder that, "yeah, she may be skinny, but she's not that great." And all jealousy in the world is quenched by a sickly drink of superiority and that's how reality tv was born.

However, part of that previous thought is somewhat true: she's not that great. Being skinny doesn't make anyone "great". If you're still bearing with me, please allow me to share with you some of the things that hurt my "skinny" heart and attack my "thin" confidence (at first, I admit, it will seem somewhat superficial, but no more so than anyone else):

1. No full, feminine curves, especially in the breast category. And oh, how much more fun girls with big boobs have than I do! 
2. I have a few clothing silhouettes that are flattering on me. But there is a plethora of others that, while cute, would look so very wrong on my frame. Anything that screams "drapey" or "peasant" looks like a sheet hanging out to dry on me. And oh, how much more fun peasants have than I do!
3. No one wants to be my workout buddy. And oh, how much more effective are workouts with spandex-clad compadres!
4. I'm conscious of things you might never have even thought about, even as a joke. For instance: how much my kneecaps stick out; how angular my elbows are; the various shades of blue my hands can turn from being perpetually cold; how to hold my breath and my abs at the perfect balance so my ribs don't show...And oh, how much more...oh forget it.
5. What if I ever gain weight?
6. What if I ever gain weight?
7. Oh my gosh, did I just gain weight?
8. My stomach doesn't look nearly as flat as it did when I was 7...I just know that girl can tell and is probably talking about me.
9. Will people still want to be my friend if I gain weight? I mean, they're friends with a skinny girl. That's what they signed on for, right? So, if I don't hold up my end of the deal, they have no obligation to remain my friend, right?? Because I'm not Janelle, the person...I am skinny, the adjective.

I hope you are able to empathize even if you are not able to sympathize. My self-defeating thoughts may be different than yours, but they both accomplish the same goal, don't they? The public expects me to remain thin like they expect Michael Phelps to swim fast...or Housewives of varying counties to remain desperate...or the Oreo to remain calorie-free. (Right?) It is an unspoken expectation, but it is a very real one.

Now, one last thing: please don't confuse my body-type with the beautiful, fit bodies than a lot of women have worked very hard to achieve. I cannot claim that honor. To be perfectly honest, I'm somewhat anxious about devoting too much time to exercise out of fear of losing what little I have. So, if you would be so kind as to recommend a workout regiment that firms & tones but doesn't burn any fat & simultaneously fuels breast tissue, that would be great.

(For a glimpse into why our views of ourselves are so distorted, I invite you to devote 5 minutes to the video below. It's a speech given by a model, who also happens to be a real human being. I know, right??)