Yazi society is changing so fast and us with it.
Things that we would all have previously found egregious and rightfully so, are now trending as the new fads.
I’m thinking about this “no #bodyshaming” movement.
The intention is a very good one and it has my full support but in my eyes it comes with a whole new set of problems too.
We need to be careful in sifting through the good and the not so good which can in the end bring more harm than benefits in our lives, especially as ladies.
I mean I get so completely confused when a size 40/42 (16/18) woman as big and as old as myself dresses like she’s a skinny 17 year old and then gets hurt, confounded and screams body shaming when people show disapproval or mock them.
Before your scream “Wendy you are being judgmental just hear me out”.
I believe there is a time, a place and season for all things under the sun including fashions. Personally I feel at 42 I cannot hope to recapture my teen years with skimpy dressing on a body that’s not so teen like. It’s true.
I’m reminded of last New Years Eve’s pool party that I attended.
Sometime after midnight these little girls arrived I assume with #blessers, 18 or less and they were the only ones that age…. one without a costume stripped to her cotton trainer like panties and bra and swam like that.
The first time I saw them was when I bumped into them in the ladies’ room.
My tongue was burning to lecture them about being nearly naked and hanging out with men that could be there fathers and grandfathers but I held it.
Now “my cotton panty child” was almost see through in those nickers and shivering from the cold but more than anything concerned about whether or not she looked sexy as uncomfortable as she felt and looked. Her friends of course, knowing how very bad she looked compared to them in their proper swim suits, blatantly lied saying how beautiful and decent she looked (‘hayii choma uright yaz’ talk). You could just see on her face the fight going on inside her because she knew deep down this was wrong and she was ashamed. But the posse’ was also looking convincing.
She turned to me and asked…sisi do I look fine?
I said to her…i think you need to get into your clothes or you gonna catch pneumonia and its not worth it. My look as our eyes locked told her “you look anything but fine”.
I felt for her, in fact my heart was sore watching how much she wanted to fit in and i was thinking… “this is such a fat girl syndrome”. I didn’t want to humiliate her when she so much craved approval and attention especially of her friends. I couldn’t say: “no you look cheap and desperate, you should be feeling like you do now…ashamed and insecure….?”.
And her battle was exactly what we do in the fat girl community.
Instead of facing the state of our health, our fears and insecurities head on, we run around looking for people to appease us, validate our worth and help us settle into this false sense of security. We buy into the lies of men who have “obese lover” fetishes, who tell us how sexy we are and how only real men can handle fat girls (no… curvy, thick, bbw) at the detriment of our bodies, allowing our health to decline prematurely.
Each year and with every kilogram we accumulate those high blood pressure digits, blood sugar levels increase, blood circulation decreases, water retention increases, flexibility and mobility is stunted. But that’s all alright, as long as we can find a hot pants we can squeeze into and #likes and #comments the equivalent of wolf whistles flood our posts, we will keep our excess weight thank you very much.
I remember so craving this kind of attention when I was a size 46/48. I needed someone to tell me I was attractive and sexy to justify not doing anything about my escalating weight. So what if I had aching joints and cracking knees, sugar induced migraines and extended periods spent hugging the “porcelain throne” when my body had, had enough abuse from my sugar cravings. I craved it despite the fact that even though I was told I was sexy, I couldn’t do my “wifely duties”, because I was just exhausted. I don’t even want to go into the depressed state I was in because I couldn’t handle going to stores and finding nothing that fit in “normal stores”.
I guess what I’m really getting to is that…
We, big ladies in particular, we need to be more in-powered.
Develop our internal locus of control to such degree that we will know when to cry body shaming and when we should be at utterly repulsed by our own self shaming tendencies. No one has the right to abuse another because of how much weight they do or do not carry. And we do ourselves a grave injustice looking to others to approve of us and dictate how we should feel.
Our greatest concern should be to enjoy the bodies we are blessed with and respect them enough to put in the time to make them the very best they can be. If that means moving my waist size from 48 to 40 and be happy there, then so be it, as long as I am in the fittest and healthiest state I can achieve. As long as I have not self imposed chronic medication in my life and constant prescriptions because of poor diet and lifestyle.
I want to teach my girls (whether they are thin or fat) to see the rare beauty there is in self confidence and know that it has nothing to do with how much flesh you show to the world. It’s a look that tells the world I know who I am, I know how sexy and how intelligent, how good and how kickass I am.
I know that I’m always more than enough without subjecting my body to scrutiny as a sex object for anyone’s approval. I say no to ” #selfshaming “.
Thank you for the visit and I hope you’ll drop a comment about this very sensitive topic.