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When I was younger, my chubby cheeks and large arms were my superpower. People’s heads would turn to watch the cute chubby baby with the big bright smile as I waddled into the room.
When I got to school, there were so many who, like me, moved through the world with their baby fat in tow.
When we were kids, being baby fat never seemed to matter so much. With so many of us who looked the same, it became like an unspoken camaraderie between us all, but I was always a little bigger than the rest of them.
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Then everything changed. As the teens crept up on me, I watched my peers blossom. Their bodies took shape and suddenly they had hourglass figures and toned muscles, the final rite of passage that seemed to pass me by, and suddenly I was less than.
For a moment, I could see the light at the end of the tunnel; I looked forward to the day I would miraculously look like the girls in the magazines and music videos.
But the light at the end of the tunnel only got further away as I got older, and I never got the chance to look like the girls in the magazines.
When I turned 18, the realisation that I would be stuck in this body forever finally hit me. I would embark on the journey that changed my life and find the tools to feel good in my larger physique.
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They say that the things we watch and the people we see on our cellphone and TV screens can’t possibly have that big an impact on our self-esteem, and that body positive representation will only lead to the normalisation of obesity and unhealthy eating habits.
For so many young girls, the celebrities and models they see on their screens become a guiding compass to who they want to be when they grow up.
I would, however, learn that there is beauty in being fat, my presence is not only felt when I walk into a room, but seen in the most literal way. My rolls became an accessory I have the privilege of carrying for the rest of my life.
To the Lizzos, Tess Hollidays, Missy Elliotts and Danielle Brooks’ of the world – thank you for being the light at the end of my tunnel.
