I am a skinny bitch. I mean let’s call it like it is. I’m the chick you give the evil eye to when you’re at the gym (if, let’s say, I still had my gym membership). I’m the girl whose friends call her skinny bitch to her face and think nothing of it. I’ve always kept my mouth shut about being thin. Apologizing, without knowing , for the way I look. I avert my eyes when someone speaks about weight feeling as if I should take blame for someone else’s battles with their body. That’s about to end.
I’m a colored girl. And though I’ve never considered suicide when the rainbow was enough I certainly considered slapping a couple of people for making stupid comments. Let’s get one thing straight: it’s not my fault and I am tired of apologizing for being skinny. I did not weave together my metabolism. Please see the parental units for that. I chose dance as my favorite way of expression since I was a child and felt that helped me stay the way that I am. I am not apologizing for that either. I realize that my frog princess will probably be the same and so I feel that I need to stand up for myself now so that she can stand up for herself later.
But as a colored girl, one of the things I’ve always loved about myself were my curves. They weren’t Beyonce’s curves but dammit they were there and they were mine. I love having an hourglass figure and always think that a little more junk in the trunk ain’t a bad thing.
When I got pregnant, I got evil eyes as well. Everyone started off with the commentary about how I wasn’t going to gain a lot of weight and the hatin’ began early on. Apparently, it was my fault that I wasn’t stuffing my face every three minutes and ballooning into a blimp. Again, I’m not apologizing and I’m certainly not trying to judge anyone else! I was trying to stay healthy and frankly, half the time I didn’t know what the hell I wanted to eat so it would take me an hour just to figure out what I was having for lunch. At that rate, there wasn’t much overeating I could’ve done even if I wanted to. After I had the baby, my weight went down fairly quickly. I was still soft and thick in some areas but I didn’t necessarily want to get rid of it. I figured I’d keep a few extra pounds and add a little more curve in all the right places. What I hadn’t planned for was how nursing would take so much out of my body. And how the stress of having an ill mami would suck the pounds right out of me. I don’t gain weight when I stress. The stress burns calories in my body like it was nobody’s business.
Now I am “too skinny”. And I don’t like it. I seemed to have lost my ass somewhere between the trips to the cancer institute and the ride home from work. I don’t feel great about this. My ass was the bomb. I mean, you wouldn’t know because you haven’t seen it but, if I can find those pics of my ass in a thong, I may just post it so that you can admire it right along with me. I miss my ass. I miss my thighs. I miss the ownership I had over my curves.
And before you say it, yes I know I’m lucky to be thin. And yes, I still have it good. But what I don’t appreciate are the comments about me being this skinny. About me losing so much weight. Me “wasting” away. About people that I don’t even know wondering if I’m anorexic (really?). And every other comment that comes my way about my weight. I get to look in the mirror every day so trust me, I know. I don’t need any reminders. I don’t need any more commentary from people who frankly, are spending way too much of their time focused on my body instead of their own. I have my own issues to deal with and my own worries to concentrate on. I don’t need anyone else trying to make me feel bad about the way I look. If I was heavy, people wouldn’t think about making these comments but somehow, because I’m skinny, people think saying offensive things is okay. Well I am here to tell you it is not. And the next person that says something smart about my weight will receive equal commentary about the way they look and see if they think twice about what they are doing.
I am a skinny bitch. I’ve always loved being a skinny bitch. Always felt blessed. Now I am a little too skinny but I am working on it. I don’t need the commentary, don’t need the snide remarks. I need a Five Guys burger and a live-in chef! So unless you can provide those 2 things, please be mindful of the words you casually throw my way. And in the meantime, if you see the rest of my ass, give it a ride over to my house, will you?