The Loneliness of Being a Size 14
In my life, I’ve been called fat and thin literally within the same day. And honestly, this just messing with my mind A LOT. And I mean A LOT. It’s confusing, especially when I’ve historically been searching for validation and acceptance of my body since I was nine. And I believe I’m neither wholly fat nor wholly thin. So where does that really leave me?
I follow a lot of influencers who promote body positivity and fat activism. When I see their posts it feels like a gulp of fresh air, it feels like permission to be myself, it feels like blissful undeniable freedom.
And then within the same scrolling-session, I see someone who is “normal,” or as what the industry calls straight-sized. And my fragility of self-love crumbles. I berate myself into thinking I should definitely not eat anything, I look for ways to curb my hunger instead of satiate it. The empowerment I felt from a fat activist is diminished within seconds. Thanks, Instagram.
“Straight size” was adopted as the popular term because “normal” places value, and average is factually incorrect. The average American woman’s waist is a size 14–16. I am the average woman’s waist size in America. I am the epitome of the majority. Though, from advertisements, television, media, magazines, and literally everywhere else you would think that to be untrue. I still find it hard to believe…
