as we have previously established, i wasn’t a fan of being a teenager. not only was i an emotionally fragile baby bird 95% of the time, but ‘life’s big realizations’ hit me a lot harder than most because i grew up in a verifiable bubble.
for example, the day i realized that people were actually having sex in my high school i was standing in a kitchen eating fried eggs and listening to a classmate talk about how her and her long-term boyfriend had ‘done it’. a lot.
i remember thinking the following: i just turned 14 and that seems too young to be having sex. they’re only 14 too so how in the bejeezus have they been dating for so long? and f*&k, does this mean i need to find a boyfriend and have sex now to be cool? (don’t worry mom and dad, the latter never happened. obviously.)
this day brought me from playing barbies to listening to my idiot friends talk about bjs. and i was completely not ready for that – being as vanilla as i was.
further example: when i was 16 i had a brief flirtation with more-substantial popularity. so there i was, was sitting in a study room with 3 bitches who were much cooler than i listening to them talk about making out. (at this point i still had no real first hand understanding of what that meant, to contextualize.)
bitch #1: “you know i really like zach*. i really like him a lot. i think i might even love him.”
bitch #2: “that’s so awesome.”
bitch #1: “we made out last night for hours. in fact, we made out so much that my face started to hurt.”
bitch #3: “i know exactly what you mean.”
bitch #1: “have you ever made out so much that you get that white stuff in the corner of your lips?”
bitch #2: “oh yah. totally.”
bitch #1: “yah, we made out so much that i got that.”
bitch #2 (turning towards me): “you know all the guys like your boobs. they say you have the perfect amount – a handful.”
*name changed to protect the bitch. not that she’ll read this anyway – that bitch.
this whole exchange produced a couple terrifying realizations.first was that you could actually make out so intensely that you would produce some sick white subtance on your face. (frankly, to this day, this concept alarms and seriously disgusts me.)
second was that guys actually noticed what i looked like, and worse, that they were f*&king talking about it.
with this shocking new information in tow my typical 16-year old body images issues went into full-blown overdrive.
for the next several years i struggled with my ‘i’ll always be just a little bit fat’ self – trying to wear the right clothes and unsuccessfully lose weight to fit in with the bitches and the guys who liked to hold girls’ boobs in their hands…apparently?
but today after 12 years, fantastic friends, a promising career and a ballin’ husband who can literally kick asses – i don’t give a care about body image hang ups. actually, i’ve gone the other way: some would say i’m arguably too pleased with myself.
and now – as life so ironically goes – without even trying i am losing weight like crazy here in india.
while i’m eating enough, drinking enough and taking my vitamins, the combination and frequency of meals is doing a number on my drive-through curves without any effort on my part.
(somewhere in the sands of time my 16 year old self is literally punching a kitten out of anger.)
what’s shocking about this situation is that for the first time i am realizing that not only am i ok with my body, but i actively don’t want it to change. i love who i’ve become – i’m effing hilarious and my shape is a part of that. what a strange and wonderful thing to realize after so many years of wishing i was thinner and prettier.
so there you have it – and before i keep talking and this turns into a jenny craig commercial – i’m off to buy some indian-style sour cream and onion chips and oreos and sit on my (slightly less fat) ass.