I’m So Sick of Worrying About My Weight

I quit perceiving myself through other people’s gaze

Just me being goofy and getting a pastry with a friend because who cares?/ Photo by the author

Sometimes, being a girl is just f*cking exhausting.

Yesterday at the office one of my colleagues said, ‘I’m so fat.’ Not an entirely shocking statement, but you should’ve seen the look on my face. I looked at her and said, ‘Where? Where is this fat you’re talking about?’

It wasn’t even a soothing comment you make to make the other person feel better. I was dead serious. She’s probably a size 2.

She pointed to her lower belly and said annoyingly, ‘Here, this.’

‘That’s your uterus,’ I told her.

‘Who needs a uterus? Not me,’ she said. I laughed and we moved on.

But the incident took me straight back to school. Friends complaining about tummies they didn’t have, underarm fat no one would ever notice and a double chin that appears only when you look down. Skipping desserts at school, missing a meal or two for a few weeks before important days like the farewell or a meet-up with the brother school.

Because somehow it all came down to boys, didn’t it?

For most of us, it wasn’t about being healthy, feeling strong or being our best selves. For most of us, it came down to one singular worry — what…