"Growing up as an Asian American, I knew I would never have the long legs or double-lidded blue eyes of the models that graced the TV screens and magazines I saw...I recognized it would be biologically impossible for me to achieve the majority of Western beauty standards, and I was okay with that.
Instead, I contented myself with believing I could do fairly well by Asian standards. My nose was upright, my hair was sleek and straight. Surrounded by petite Asian adults, I also assumed that I would grow up to be the same way. Effortlessly, easily, thin...."
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| source: printerest |
But then came puberty...
Read More:
http://everydayfeminism.com/2015/12/growing-up-asian-and-unskinny/Read More:
Honestly? I'd never thought of an Asian woman having this problem and for exactly the reasons the author described.
As I was reading this article, I felt the author's pain because she is actually living out a scenario that I literally don't even want to visit.
I love the art and architecture of some of Asian countries, and have drooled over friends photos. But I've never seriously thought of going on vacation in Asia. And I didn't REALLY realize that the reason I hadn't seriously considered a vacation in Asia was because I was worried about my body size being unacceptable in those countries...not until I read this article, not until I heard some of my own thoughts coming out of her cyber-mouth.
I've always had body image issues.
When I look back at myself, in pictures, I can see photos where there was a bulge here and bulge there that I didn't like. Who can't see things they don't like in pictures?
However, there are also photos, years worth of photos, where I looked damn near cookie cutter perfect. Not white model beauty standards, black American style cookie cutter perfect. But I wasn't even happy about my size even then. I couldn't see it in the mirror because I was miserable because of the numbers.
Size 10 on top. Size 12 on the bottom. My mother was size 10 when she got married. I'm supposed to be size 10. I'm size 14. Okay I'm down size 12 again. WAIT! What? Vanessa Williams is size 6? Whitney Houston is size what? Wait, I can't do those sizes. It's okay. My mother was size 10 when she got married. Why aren't I a size 10 too?
Okay I'm working out a lot, 1.5 hours a day, because I'm bored in a new city. It's gonna be okay. Size 10 on top. Size 12 on the bottom again. Wait body fat is way down, but now my thighs are too big. Wait a minute. How come I never noticed I have butt for days but no hips And why am I still not quite a %$#*&% *#&%* SIZE 10!!!
I'm better now. Much. But I still have those days when....
I've come to realize that I simply have the years and years long habit of picking myself apart -- and not just in ways related to weight either.
Like young girls and young women everywhere I used to constantly be in the mirror looking at weight, face, hair and what constitutes attractive but not too attractive/too sexy clothing... and yes, my own skin color.
For whatever reason, when I was a teenager, I wanted what white girls and light girls had, male attention, but without wanting my skin color to change. I like my skin color. I always have.
Actually, "always" may be too a strong word.
When I was about 5 and first started going to a predominantly white school, the white girls wouldn't speak to me or even look at me. When I told my mother "I wish I was white," my parents immediately told me what I was supposed to think and feel. So I shut up and parroted back what I was supposed to say. But my wish to be white didn't last long in any case.
As I stared in the mirror, I couldn't bring myself to wish my own face away. And I would have had to wish my own face away in order to be white or even light. I do not have white features therefore I cannot do white skin, light skin, or lank straight hair and look "normal." I couldn't articulate that at 5 or 6 years old. But I could see it.
When my little brother went through the same wounding 4 or 5 years later, I realized that I never actually looked in the mirror and wanted my face to change and neither did my brother; we just wanted what the white people had - easily made friends and acceptance.
I think it's easy to mistake these pains we get in relationship or due to lack of relationship for evidence that we are fundamentally unacceptable. I think most of us know this in our heads.
And I agree that self acceptance is the first step to healing. But I don't think self-acceptance is the last step in any healing process.
We may not like society's unhealthy messages. But we need society. We need healthy interdependence on one another.
When I realized that friendship and acceptance was the problem and not my skin color, my mind was corrected on the skin color issue almost instantly. There was not, is not, the same struggle for self-acceptance in regards to skin color as there has been with size and beauty -- not for me.
There was no essential struggle with me liking my own skin.
So my own mind being corrected wasn't the end of the problem because the real problem was lack of friendship and acceptance for 8 hours of my 12 to 14 hour day. Mind corrected though, I took the next step. I gained the confidence to discern who was worthy of friendship and who was not. Taking proactive steps to make worthwhile friends, the final step, took care of the real problem.
I can't help but think that body image issues require a similarly patterned response.
That is, self-acceptance is only the first step because your size is not actually the real problem. I think our lack of confidence to do X is the real problem. So while working on self-acceptance I wonder if it's even more productive to think about what you're going to do with your new found confidence.
Once you are acceptable to you, will you be bolder about your style choices?
Once you are acceptable to you, will you take surfing lessons?
Once you are acceptable to you, will you ask men or women that you find attractive out?
Once you are acceptable to you, will you tell Aunt Sally to worry about how empty her own head is instead of how full your ass is?
What's going to happen when you are completely acceptable to you?
I'm not at 100% as far as being completely acceptable to me. Some days I can fluctuate down to 50% acceptable to me, especially when the PMS hits. But I know what I'm going to do. I'm doing it right now. I'm adding see China to my bucket list.
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