Too Skinny For My Own Good
My struggles with body image
What should one do when you belong to a family that has curvy women and then you’re born looking nothing like them? Fast forward 22 years and nothing much has changed. I’m still “too skinny” as everyone says, and that comment sticks with me all the time.
I was born in Jamaica to parents who were excited to welcome their child who eventually would be their only. My baby pictures showed a chubby, brown-skinned baby who looked like any other happy baby.
In primary school, I got slightly slimmer as each year went by and by sixth grade, I was not the same brown-skinned, chubby baby in those photos. My skin got darker, and my hair surprisingly grew despite the horrible eczema I had as a child. Despite my challenges in gaining weight, I was always confident in the fact that God made me this way and wanted me to stay exactly like this.
In High School, I never gained an ounce without the help of weight gain supplements which I regret taking to this day. I might have said that I accepted how I looked, but that doesn’t mean that I loved it. High School came with bullies and insecurities, and like every other teenager, I was no exception to comments about my body which lingered throughout the rest of high school and sixth form.
P.S I would post pictures from high school and sixth form, but I was so camera shy and self-conscious that I hated how I looked in photos. I have no pictures from high school, and I regret that every day.
What Jamaican teens want
The desirable body for a teenage girl (In Jamaica) which is strange to say is seen through the uniforms. Wide hips, a decent bust, and a backside that’s big enough to be seen in that uniform.
Now, I never had that, but a lot of my classmates did, and I was fine with it. I treasured my intelligence, and this might sound shallow, but my hair was one of the most important things I had as well. As a girl on the smaller side, I sought validation from my teachers and shamefully now that I think about it from my peers.
Obsessed with my hair
The stereotype of black women and girls not being able to have long hair was always the straw that broke the camel’s back for me. In other words, I found my hair a sensitive topic, especially since it determined my appearance and attractiveness to my peers. Sad to say, but the world is extremely materialistic and judgmental and high school was the peak of that. I always hated my hair and its thick texture since it was difficult for my mother to comb and manage daily for school.
In the 9th grade, I decided that relaxing my hair was the easier way of styling it (In Jamaica we call it creaming). The texture of my hair went from kinky to pin-straight. As you can see in the photo above my roots were straight and the ends were natural. After a year of trying to get used to my newfound hair, it grew longer than I expected, and with that came a little confidence.
Compliments were something I never heard until I relaxed my hair. I believed that my hair took the attention away from my weight which I was still insecure about but slowly began to accept. Looking back, I realize how foolish my logic was and that I shouldn’t seek approval from people.
In sixth form, I went on weight supplement pills which unknowingly caused migraines every single day for one year. This resulted in doctor’s visits, and my social anxiety was at an all-time high. I remember going to the doctor for the migraines and the doctor told me to “eat more.” At that moment. I realized that my weight was the first thing people saw about me — not my personality or my dry humor.
I spent the second year of sixth form becoming friends with the school nurse who was the nicest lady I ever met. She was never judgmental about my weight and thought that I was fine. She eventually realized my obsession with gaining weight and changed the topic of conversation to either my schoolwork or movies she liked watching. She was my personal guidance counselor, and I was grateful for that. During the first year of sixth form, I had no close friends, and she would be the person I would hang out with during lunch.
The school nurse made me understand that I should feel comfortable in my skin. She would say that I’m young and my body would eventually change in a few years. I could tell she was all about female empowerment through her actions as a nurse and somewhat mother figure to not only myself but to other girls who would visit her office.
Covid changed everything
Six months later, Covid came and changed everything. I didn’t get to say goodbye to her and sometimes I wish I would run into her on the street.
I quickly entered university not a pound heavier, but my anxiety was reduced because I was doing classes for two years behind a computer screen. Therefore, I had the luxury of not worrying about meeting new people who would make the same judgments about my weight. I was secure within myself (So I thought). I still hated the occasional jokes and comments about being skinny. I absolutely hated it. I was never used to them and I never will be.
My mother was and still is my biggest supporter. Tough love was necessary and still is. She always said, “You have to do what you have to do”. This is a motto I will always bring with me through life regardless of what others think. The task must be done without hesitation.
Growing up in the Caribbean, a woman’s body is what is noticed first, and I guess it’s the same in other countries as well. I never believed I had an eating disorder and my mother made sure of that as she would always say that it’s my genes and that she was also slim at my age in high school.
Thanks for reading!
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