I was ashamed of my body until I came to college

Before college I was told at a young age that if I was skinny, I would automatically look better.

The person who told me I looked better skinny was the same person who was supposed to love me regardless of how big or small I was.

I did not want to admit it, but it hurt knowing I was only attractive if I was thin. Why couldn’t I embrace the curves I had and not care if I gained a bit of weight if it meant I was happy with myself?

I never truly loved my body. I saw it as a burden. It was the image I had to maintain throughout my teenage years, knowing the people around me saw that and only that.

I recall being a normal middle schooler who was finally reaching puberty. It was that dark time of braces and weird stages, and suddenly my size zero pants were feeling a little tighter. My curves were emerging (what I saw as a curse of my ethnicity). Those Latina genes of mine were hitting me like a truck.

I was terrified. I hated my body to the point where I would starve myself and try the craziest diets to maintain the weight I wished to see on the scale. One of the diets I attempted to do was eating only three bananas and drinking a ton of water, which lead me to one, cry because I missed real food and two, hide my eating habits from my family and friends. I did so much to reach the 110 pound mark, and if I did not reach that weight, I would use lame excuses such as: “It was my socks” or “I’m a bit bloated today, I’m not fat!”

I would always have the lingering whisper in my head, telling me I should not eat that piece of food or I would never look like those girls in my school or in the magazines. Skinny was pretty in my head. There were days I would make myself run miles and miles until I couldn’t go any further.

It sounds silly, but I was always the perfect child and student, and I needed to fulfill that image with a perfect body. In my eyes, a class president couldn’t be fat. She had to be thin, beautiful and confident in everything she accomplished.

My love for my body was so weak I would strive to hear the honks and whistles from men in their cars, because it meant my body was good in their eyes. It was a compliment, I told myself. If I didn’t have a skinny waist, they wouldn’t notice me. It was a good thing if they were hollering at me; there wasn’t anything wrong with their doing this. But in reality, it wasn’t flattering to hear those remarks from the men who catcalled me. It caused fear and an anger that I could only understand when I began to think of the countless little girls who would one day be catcalled when they are in public. As an aunt of three nieces, it made me even more scared to think my nieces would one day be catcalled and insecure of their bodies.

Before leaving for college, my youngest niece came up to me and told me one day she hopes to grow up to be just like me. I could not contain my emotions. Despite all the accomplishments I had achieved in my academic and social life, I would never want my niece to be like me. I wanted her to be better than me, and I could not imagine her hating herself and her body.

And that’s when it hit me.

Why do women take care of themselves when they are expecting and ensure they get the right nutrition for their child but some refuse to take care of themselves before that? Shouldn’t we love our bodies by taking care of them? I looked at my niece and asked myself, if she looks up to me and wishes to be like me, then I should lead by example. I needed to be the woman she could truly look up to by truly loving my body.

Before coming to Temple, I hated physical activities (especially the dreaded gym). But now, I don’t it as the place I would only go because I needed to lose the fat. I go to the gym now because it brings me happiness in a weird way, it’s the only place where I could release my stress. And instead of wanting to cry on the treadmill, I began to hike, bike, or even go on city adventures with my best friends. I do not see exercising as a burden anymore, and that makes me happy.

Thankfully, there are healthy options to eat at Temple, and I have no excuse to skip a meal by saying, “There’s nothing healthy to eat.” Food is great, I love eating food. I should not punish myself by not enjoying the good food Philly offers. The way I see it now, I am paying for college and my meal plan, so why wouldn’t I use it! For the first time in a very long time, I finally take care of my body and nurture it in the best way possible.

I have accepted the fact that I am not a model, I’m Gail. I’m a five foot hispanic woman from New Jersey who is going to make her own name somewhere being more than just her body. I can proudly say I am content with the confidence I have now. I look in the mirror and I smile at the fact I came this far. I can proudly say I love my curves, my little gut, and the double chin I make on snapchat.

Body image is an issue in this country that many people secretly battle with. It takes time, and most of all, support from friends, family and yourself to overcome. I had the best support system, and my motivation to be the better version of myself is powered by the fact I am a role model to my three nieces. It took me a long time to realize this, but being a little chunky isn’t so bad. I love myself, and that’s what truly matters.

@gailvivarx3