By: Maalvika Bhuvansunder
Ahh, the ever classic “All about that bass”, the so-called “revolutionary” song which was meant to show body positivity. One question though: How is it body positivity if you are putting down other body types? Body shaming is something I have endured constantly. Growing up, I was an extremely plump and chubby kid. Every vacation used to be a nightmare with relatives constantly telling me to eat less and become slim. To a preteen! That's where the root of my low self-esteem began. I was told by people that I wouldn't have friends if I don’t reduce weight. So growing up, when I did not understand the lyrics, it's all about that bass… by Meghan Trainor was a revolutionary song for me. It made me, and I’m sure a lot of other girls like me, feel amazing about our bodies. But what about the others?!
I was told by people that I wouldn't have friends if I don’t reduce weight.
A few months before I got my diagnosis, I started losing a lot of weight. Each month I would have lost around 2-3 kgs. Very soon, the chubby girl became the skinny one. It was very confusing for me and my parents as to why I was losing all this weight. Post the diagnosis, at least we knew the reason. It was very new and weird for me to look this thin and I knew this was not a healthy weight loss, but I did not have any control over it. Keeping down food got difficult, and I developed this fear of eating as it was associated with pain. What added to this were the comments of other people.
There was one group that cheered this weight loss, glorifying it without knowing the pain I was in. Then, there were the others that made me feel ashamed of being so skinny. The constant, why don't you eat, are you trying to diet, you looking this skinny is UGLY got too much. I refused to step out of my house because of this constant judgement. Random strangers used to advise me on how to gain weight and that being this skinny is not good. Strangers did not know the cause of my weight loss, but when the family and friends that did know about it made such comments, it hurt the most. The constant comparison with others in my family to casually making “jokes” and trying to funny about my weight was horrible for me. It was impossible for me to gain any weight, and it was not like I did not know that I was dangerously underweight. But “Eat up!” was not the solution, and food was the main pain-causing component for me at that time.
If you are healthy and feel great, then who cares what shape and size your body is? People are going to comment either way.
Post-surgery, now that I am able to slowly gain weight, this fear is always still there of what if I go back to my preteen body type. On the other side, the fear of relapse in weight gain is also there. I’m sure a lot of individuals with IBD would experience body dysphoria, the feeling of not belonging in your skin, and hating the way you looked in the mirror. That was me for most of my life. This experience made me realize that what truly matters is feeling healthy. If you are healthy and feel great, then who cares what shape and size your body is? People are going to comment either way. What truly matters is your health. To this date, I am not fully comfortable in my skin, but I am making baby-step progress towards it.