I’ve often thought that hadn’t it been for my mother telling me how everything about me was somehow wrong (resulting in bulimia and depression from ages 17 to 23 as well as the subsequent weight gain) I don’t think it would ever have occurred to me to dislike my body. And after seeking therapy and recovering from both the depression and bulimia, the weight dropped off and I realized what an amazing body I have.
Sometimes you have a girls’ night (“which is every night really because no one’s ever got a man”) and you’re playing some girly version of truth or dare. And eventually someone asks “what’s the best/worst part of your body?”. And I never know what to say without sounding arrogant.
My entire body is pretty gorgeous. If I had to name my least favourite part, I’d probably have to say my lower back, because sometimes it forgets how the correct anatomy is supposed to look like and then I can’t walk. But that’s not what they’re really asking in the girly truth or dare.
As for my favourite part I’d have to say my thighs. I have amazing thighs. They are definitely my best feature. I’m 6 feet tall, so my legs really do go on forever. They’re long, lean and soft, without a trace of visible cellulite. They used to be just sticks, but I’ve taken up running and one of those thingamajigs where you lift weights with your thighs at the gym, and now I can see actual muscle under the skin and thin layer of fat.
I’m of the body type that gains muscle easily (I see results after a few workouts) and I don’t gain weight unless I try to. I do admit that I am genetically blessed, but I do work a lot for my figure as well. I go to the gym even when I don’t feel like it. I don’t stop running when I get unfomfortable or my legs start to ache; I run for atleast 1,5 hours at a time and don’t stop until I can’t physically run anymore. Yet I love it – the high you get after you’ve run about an hour and suddenly your feel become light and you just fly. That is the reason I run.
My other favourite feature is my stomach. My god, it’s so pretty. It’s smooth and fairly muscular. If I stretch and bend at the right angle, it looks almost like it belongs in a Victoria’s secret advert (except I have arms, darling!). Other bodyparts of mine also deserve a mention: my skin is clear and I have really good bone structure (it might make my face look a bit severe, but I believe it’ll come in handy as I grow older and my face starts so sag – at least it can hang off my cheekbones!), my arms are lean and my breasts, if not exactly “perky”, are at least firm and fit my chest perfectly.
I must confess, I don’t really understand what women are talking about when they complain about their thighs, or stomach, or other body parts labeled as “problem areas”. (I would also like to shake them and get it into their heads that all the body parts that women’s magazines deem as problem areas are the precise body parts in a woman’s body that most differ from a man’s body.)
I’d like to say I don’t have problem areas – I only have gorgeous areas. Yet it makes me ponder about the nature of physical beauty. Men don’t seem to like me. I’ve heard there’s a difference between “girl hot” and “guy hot”. That is, girls think guys all want fashion models, but that’s not what the average man finds attractive.
But I find myself beautiful, and that’s what matters.