Yes, I’m happy with how I look

IF I hear “you are getting fat!” one more time, I’m going to scream at you! For someone who grew up being teased about weight and never feeling girly enough as I had no hips and boobs (I would be called at Wolmaransstad an English figure – that name stood for a long time).

For the longest time I wanted to gain weight. Those wishes, it seemed, fell on deaf ears.

Puberty and the fairy godmothers were numb to my silent requests. Even after the birth of my son I didn’t gain weight. If I did it went as quickly as it came, and as a result I have stretch marks from my hips all the way to my thighs.

So to be told I’m getting fat and according to whose standard, is tiring. You don’t have to tell me. I see it in the jeans that don’t fit anymore, in the skirts that are getting tighter.

But for the first time I’m happy with how I look. It’s all poetry for me, there is a rhythm in my body and I love it. I also understand that this isn’t the same for everybody, and that’s okay.

I thought this new wave of appreciating and loving oneself in the colour of my skin, my hair, would naturally include my body.

But no, as the people would have it, I still don’t look good, I’m getting fat, thanks to the subtle comments like “watch that tummy” or “watch what you eat”, like I stuff my face with junk food.

I hope with the next girl you see, you will be gentle to her, because while you are concerned about someone’s image, you don’t know the battle they’re going through inside.