Sisters
My sister came to visit yesterday. It was nice to catch up, even if it was only for a few hours. It had been 6 months since we’d last seen each other, and even though she never saw me at my highest weight, she did comment that I was looking leaner.
My sister is naturally thin. 5′11-and-a-size-6 thin. I-look-like-a-hippo-walking-along-side-her thin. So-comfortable-with-her-body-all-my-friends-know-her-as-Naked-Sister thin.
And we had what was probably our first honest discussion about body image ever.
When you’re suffering from Fat Girl Complex, it’s impossible to believe that women who are a normal weight can feel just as miserable about their bodies as you do. These women don’t have the right to have self-image issues when they are objectively thinner than you. And because you’re suffering from the delusion that if you can just get down to a healthy weight, you will magically love your body again, you dismiss these women’s complaints as selfish and petty and probably just stated in order to make you feel better about your big fat ass.
But thin chicks are women too.
And do you know one woman… just one single woman who is consistently satisfied with her body? One woman who doesn’t pick apart her unseen flaws and stumbles down the “if only this would change” road when she is alone in front of a mirror? If granted three wishes by <insert mythical wish-granting creature here>, how many of you would use at least one of those to change part of your physical being?
Why?
So my sister confessed that she, too is less-than-thrilled with her physical self. That she has to avoid fashion magazines because they make her feel like shit. That she busts her ass in the gym on a regular basis just to keep a miniscule amount of muscle on her spindly arms. That if she takes a break for a couple weeks, she feels like she’s starting from scratch, that keeping her strength up is a constant challenge… and you know, I felt kind of lucky. Even at my highest weight, I was still pretty strong. I can lift heavy things and impress the boys. I can get 3 stuffed suitcases up and down 15 flights of airport stairs and still make my plane. I should feel good about this. My skinny sister would feel good about this.
So why is it that even though we’re physical opposites, we have an identical dislike for our bodies?
At least you and your sister came to an understanding. My sister has a hard time believing that I ever had a problem with my weight — mostly because I hid my displeasure for so long. It’s sad that women aren’t kinder and nicer to our bodies and souls.
Left by donna on January 5th, 2008