Shameless

The fight against body shaming as a thing is all over the internet and that’s great. Nobody should have to put up with people making them feel bad about how they look. For the most part, as individuals, we do a good enough job of making ourselves feel bad about it.

I’ve been meaning to write about this for a while, because of my own experiences with body shaming. I know what you’re thinking, I’m not even fat, right? And look, I just said fat instead of plus size, fluffy or husky.

Just so you know, I don’t consider the word fat an insult. Half the women I follow on Instagram have fat asses, fat thighs, fat cheeks and fatter wallets than mine. #dianasirokai

 

What I’m getting at is that body shaming isn’t limited to women like Tess Holliday…or whoever her male counterpart is. (after writing this part, I Google’ed ‘male plus-size models’ and just found a bunch of ultra-tall dudes.)

 

There was a time that I had to put up with my share of shit about my own body and this wasn’t during a period when i had let myself go. The last time i was fat was when i was a wee baby and could pass as an Eric Cartman impersonator.

 

It all went down when i was my most active and committed in the gymnasium. Back when ‘gym bro life’ and actual life had the lines blurred I had found acceptance in the fitness universe. I knew a ton of people and for the most part, everyone is so supportive and nice.

They were not the problem even though I have since extracted myself from that world and I’m glad i did.

 

I had gone from slender to athletic to never big enough because when I was at my biggest and most muscular I would look at myself in the mirror and see McLovin. Society is littered with biases and I had found myself plonked into a position where I would experience that shit from strangers, friends and colleagues.

 

While everyone – well, almost everyone – bathes in sensitivity before making comments about someone who’s chubby or fat, when it came to my sensitivity and basic etiquette went out the window. People didn’t think twice about coming up to me sad saying I’m too big and it doesn’t look nice.

I never once retaliated or got mad about it, because I was always so shocked that anyone would so readily say that to me without a single thought caring about how it left me feeling. Each time I would just stand there listening to them ramble off about what was wrong with the way I looked and wanted to look and why question my reasons for it. I’d never rubbed it in anyone’s face. I just went to the gym and kept to myself.

 

Part of the reason that it didn’t upset me as much as it should have may have been the support I got from other gym rats. Most of my friends back then were competitive athletes and I kind of adopted that goal as a way to fit in. I’m not one to willingly walk into an auditorium in just my trunks. I’d even keep my t-shirt on at the beach and never wear anything sleeveless when I’m out.

 

The pursuit of a better body appealed to me because it provided me with the self-esteem I lacked all my life. It was the first time I was kinda happy about who I was and that translated into more believable confidence.

 

Since then I have found my value outside of the lifestyle. It feels like I have evolved beyond the need for it. My value comes from within and its this concept that is difficult for many of the people I was friends with them to come to terms with.

That too became clearer to me when I unfriended two guys for comments they made about the Tess Holliday Cosmo cover. How can it be so easy to talk shit about someone else’s body when it took years of steroid use to achieve yours?

One day when the Joe Rogan quote might sink in that building a perfect body is ultimately a lot like making a beautiful sand castle and it will be the wake-up call assholes like they need.

Until then, I have no time for the intolerant among us and trust that karma will pay them a visit soon.