Lucky to Be Me

In this day and age, true body acceptance is hard to come by. Everywhere you turn, there’s another celebrity on a diet, or having weight-loss surgery, because they “need to feel good” about themselves to succeed. Sadly, many people are affected by this from the age of 10 on. This is especially true for women, mostly young women through age 25. I am proud to say that I am an 18 year old girl that honestly loves my body.

Sure, there are things I would change if I could. I don’t think anyone truly, honestly, one hundred percent would not alter something about themselves if the opportunity fell into their laps. If they say they wouldn’t change a darn thing, they’re probably lying. But many people, myself included, don’t pine for these changes to happen. We truly enjoy what we have.
Yeah, I wouldn’t mind if my boobs suddenly grew. It’s not as though I would lament a larger cup size. But until the magic boob fairy comes my way, my B cup suits me just fine. A breast enhancement has never even crossed my mind as a possibility, and not only because it sounds disgusting and scary. I just don’t see the need to change it, because I’ll never have the biggest or best boobs, no matter what I do. Someone will always have better or bigger ones, and that is a fact of life. For a few years in my early teens, I was extremely jealous of the one girl in my grade (we all have one like her) that inexplicably got giant boobs. It happens sometimes. But the only thing you see at 14 is that boys are looking at her more often than me, and she gets to show off extreme cleavage when I barely fill my training bra. Well, it all happened like my parents promised, and in a few years, I no longer cared about anyone else’s bra size. There will always be women both larger and smaller than me-which goes for weight, too.

Of course I would like to lose five or even ten pounds. But I also know that the 140 pounds currently on my frame are right where they should be. Everything looks good to me, just as it would at 120 or 160-I know this for a fact, because I have been pretty close to both weights, and was okay with it at each end of the spectrum. That being said, I think my current size is just about right. I would never even think about planning to consider any kind of weight loss surgery, nor any extreme diets. I sometimes decide to eat healthy or try a certain diet, and that lasts for a little while. In the end, I stay at about the same weight, and I discover a new way to prepare some kind of vegetable. So everyone is happy!

My hair is currently shoulder-length and brown. It’s been down almost to my butt, and has also barely reached my ears. It’s been highlighted, cut, layered, straightened, crimped, and curled. I’ve been light brown, fuchsia, and red. At the moment, I’m sticking with normal, straight brown hair. I’m happy with whatever ends up on my head, because it’s me. The fuchsia was actually intended to be a calmer purple, but the dye job was severely messed up. I didn’t care, because it became a conversation piece. The point is that no matter how weird or boring my hair is, it’s my personality that matters.

As far as beauty goes, I’m not exactly stunning. I don’t have perfect features, and I like that. If I looked too perfect, I’d feel boring. As it is, my eyes are apparently at slightly different levels-I’ve never seen it, but my entire family notices. My nose is kind of big, but I’d never think about a nose job (plus, they sound really painful). My lips are slightly misshapen, as are most peoples. My ears are a funny shape. But all this means is that I am me. I know how to make what I have look good. If I looked perfect, no one would be able to pick me out of all the other perfect women in the world.

As for height, I’ll come right out and say it. I’m short. In fact, I am 5’ 4’’ and proud of it. I often cannot reach things on the top shelves of the kitchen. I have been known to climb on many a chair to reach an object of my desire. I always hoped, when I was little, that I would defy my family’s genes and be the first female in years to break 5’ 5’’. Alas, that was not to be achieved. It only took a short time to come to terms with this fact-the acceptance of which coincided with my discovery of the phrase “I’m not short, I’m fun-sized!”, which has gotten me through some dark times. Height is one thing that even people with lots of money and time cannot really change. Therefore, I’m extra glad that I like myself nice and miniature. I can just reach everything I need in my room, and my legs reach the ground just fine.

My legs? I love ‘em. For years-especially the infamous years of junior high-I hated my thighs. They were huge! And this isn’t just a body image thing. I actually do have quite muscular thighs. One might say I’m stocky, seeing me from the waist down. Anyway, I loathed this fact for quite a few years-pretty much puberty until my junior year or so. This was the point that I saw the purpose for my “manly thighs”. The summer before my junior year of high school, I switched to carrying a 70 pound tuba in the marching band. Suddenly, my thighs were no longer a freakishly large problem-they were the reason I could do the complicated moves, including bending backwards at a 45-degree angle with said tuba on my shoulder. Try that one with slim, feminine legs-it ain’t happening. One of my favorite summer phrases is “Sure, you can wear short shorts. But can you march with those legs?”,which doesn’t gain me any favors with the skinny girls. That being said, I will gladly give up the supposed privilege of wearing those tiny shorts in order to do what I can do with my legs.

The same can be said for my arms. Sure, they aren’t cute. No one would ever see me as a tiny little pixie to be protected from dangers. I don’t have bodybuilder arms, but they have a distinct shape. Apparently only certain muscles are affected by carrying a tuba. And there are different muscles involved in pulling the curtain for the musical. I know that doesn’t sound like it would build any muscle at all, but next time you see The Wizard of Oz on stage, try counting the curtain openings and closings. It’s insane. And all this led to arms that no one would call slim. But I love them just the same, because I can do what I want to do. I have just the right physique for what I choose to do in my life, and that’s the way it should be.

That’s what is important to remember in life. No matter what anyone else has, or what anyone sees, the goal is to be happy with my own body. I’m just the perfect size and shape for me. Changing anything would throw off who I am supposed to be. Stuff like my arms and legs have been shaped (literally) by what I chose to do in school. My facial features distinguish me from everyone else. My weight is just where I want it, supported by a body that’s just the right shape. I feel very special to truly and completely love who I am and what I look like, and I hope you can be the same way.