Whenever people told me I looked good once I started recovering (read: gaining weight), I felt awful. While they genuinely meant to express what they said — after all, I didn’t look like a walking skeleton any more — I translated “you look good” as “you clearly gained weight” and on bad days as “you look fat.” Yet when someone told me I was too thin, I beamed. That was the biggest compliment they could give me, and the fact that so many women interpret these three devilish words similarly is, I think, rather worrisome.
“I’m having a bad hair day,” I tell my boyfriend on a very regular basis. Because really, when do I have a good hair day? Almost never, for I am my worst critic. My boyfriend, however, looks at my hair, then seems confused since he does not see the difference with yesterday’s hair (which he liked). This is the problem: I am so absorbed by my own self-criticism that I counteract what I want to achieve: a better version of me.
I’ve been hooked to the telly since the Opening Ceremony and I haven’t missed a single figure skating or ice dancing routine. I scrutinise the ice skaters’ every movement, every detail, and their performance as a whole from my perspective as a television spectator. I ooh-and-aah at their outfits — the tiniest, most sparkly dresses. But, contrary to when I’m watching a Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show, I don’t ever comment on the ice skaters’ bodies.
We all have different bodies, beauty ideals, and experiences. We all feel different about issues like numbers and body image. This is precisely why Beauty Is Not a Number is looking for new contributors: to provide as big a variety of views and experiences as possible. Do you want to join the team? Then keep reading!
“Omg I really admire that you dare posting a picture with no make-up on,” is one of the regular comments on fashion or beauty blogs when someone posts a “naked” picture. “Not that you need it,” they add. Not that you need it? No one needs make-up.