When I was a young carefree teenager, my dad would often tell me: “You should lose weight.” I was criticized for my fat belly and was told that if I didn’t do anything about it, I would never find a husband.
Thank god, I didn’t give a damn about ‘looking good’ or ‘finding a man’. I had read and learnt countless of times how girls tend to fall under the illusion that they are not beautiful enough and that they never will, unless they resemble those super thin top models in magazines. I’ve seen how detrimental of their self-esteem it was to constantly compare their bodies to those Photoshop’ed ones… or to their prettier (a.k.a. more socially acceptable body types) peers. I’ve heard about very strict diet that could potentially lead to death.
I learnt from an early age to love my body and to eat all the things I love (in moderation, of course) and to not be defined by someone else’s perception of ‘beauty’. I encouraged myself to be an independent woman, and to be aware that if I wanted a man, that man would not have the right to shape my body to fit his ‘ideals’ (impossible ones indeed), but would instead accept me as I am.