During my residency, I took a class entitled, “Rewriting and Revision,” with Colette Freedman. One quote that has stuck with me from that class (after a random tangent) was “Forties is where it’s at! It’s the best age to be because you don’t care what people think of you. You don’t give a fuck.” At age twenty-two, almost twenty-three getting to the point of your life where “you don’t care about what people think of you” is light years away.
I thought by now my obsession with body image would fade, but it’s the same. The only thing that’s different is I don’t act on it anymore. I don’t have to go into detail about that because I’m sure you know what that means. Last year I was at H&M and I got a blouse off the rack and I tried it on knowing it wouldn’t fit into it. It looked like a size zero, but since the tag said four I pretended it would magically fit. I was a size four at that store for numerous years, but suddenly I stood there looking at myself in the mirror with the buttons looking like they were popping out of my chest. After that experience, I thought about getting a breast reduction up until my friend told me that H&M changed their sizes because she didn’t fit into her normal size either.
Why do they do this to us?!!! It’s so fucked up. What do we do?
Honestly, these types of stores are not curvy friendly. We see these models on tv with over padded pushup bras and rib cage bones showing, how in the fucking world will I ever look like that? I wish society wasn’t as superficial as it is now, but the only way to move on from this is to ignore it. They say love yourself like it’s an easy thing to do. It’s easier said than done… But let’s fucking do it! Maybe we don’t have to wait until our forties to except ourselves, why not now?