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Saturday, May 7, 2016

What Is Plus-Size? The Confusing Definitions Of Body Types And Why They’re Irrelevant

The skiing trip in the 5th grade. The first big trip without my family. Am I gonna be kissed or touched for the first time? I imagined all amazing things happening to me. We were all supposed to be in our rooms by midnight. After the teachers checked up on us and went to sleep, the real fun began. So, I remember, Lucy saying let's have a beauty competition. You know... who's got the shiniest hair, the most perfect nose (there's always something wrong with noses), healthiest nails (what the fuck?!) And of course instead of just flattering awards, we simply had to have, the biggest ass, weird figure, fat thighs, small boobs categories too.
I suggested to play the good qualities game but of course that was decided to be lame.
And so the game began: the most adorable smile goes to Susanne, the shiniest hair goes to Nika and so on. Then the bad physicality started and guess who won the biggest ass, fat thighs and small boobs? Me. I was sitting there on a lower bunk bed, melting, all flustered and so utterly sad and all these mean little bitches were laughing at me with their malicious faces.
Was it the worst trip of my life? For my eleven year old self, yes! Of course I knew I wasn't skinny but what really stroke me was the reaction of girls. Why was it so negative and mean? I was still me, with good grades, funny and kinda popular... so why, all of a sudden, was my weight the only thing that mattered? Ok that kind of experience, I certainly, didn't expect.
Well their rating worked and I did lost a lot of weight. Then I moved to England and we just lost touch. Summers ago, I returned to visit and what I saw was a total twist. So Susanne doesn't have time to smile anymore because she has three jobs, Nika's hair lost its shine and Lucy's ass got three times bigger after she had babies.
But who cares? Why should we care? I may look ten times better than they do right now, but that doesn't make me any happier. Ok maybe a little bit! The truth is everyone's got their own stuff to deal with.
In the end of the day, we fight for the same thing, to be happy and survive.
My mother never taught me the sizes don't matter, I had to figured it out myself and luckily, I don't know how but the skiing trip didn't fuck me up. But I can totaly see how it could... My point is why do we keep labeling and defining body types? It's meaningless and confusing, not just for little girls, but also for 26 year old me. What the fuck is plus size anyway? And who decides who is plus size?
You know, I have a photograph of me from that skiing trip. There's eleven year old girl, with chubby cheeks and big butt eating a doughnut. And I look so happy there like I never do in any of my current selfies. I look at the photo and I smile.

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