Our Beauty Is Not Scale Deep [A Test in Bragging Through My Insecurities]

Everyone loses or gains weight during Peace Corps.

Your diet changes from what you have known your entire life to something very different.
Often you are eating meals generously provided by others that you have no control over.

There are less chemicals (or different ones).
There are more/less meal times.
You are invited to more/less celebrations.

You are teaching more/less aerobics than you ever have.

You have more/less opportunities to do all the working out your body is used to.

Everyone gains or loses.

Some people more or less than others.

Some people’s bodies change drastically.

I’m going to MST (Mid-Service Training) in a couple of weeks.

I’m going home in June.

I’m nervous about a lot of things seeing a whole bunch of people who haven’t seen me in months and months or years. The number one thing I’m nervous about, based on the limited conversations I have had with my home world, is what people will say in regards to my current physical appearance.

My weight should not concern you.

At all.

Ever.

Don’t tell me I am more beautiful now.

Don’t tell me I look healthier.

Don’t tell me I look stronger.

Don’t tell me my body is better.

I have been beautiful, healthy and strong with a great body my whole life. None of that has to do with my weight.

My beauty is not scale deep.
My health is not contingent on the highly critical public eye curve meter.

I could have kicked your ass two years ago.
My heart has been beating since birth, that’s a pretty great body.

I, like every other female human I know from my American life, have seriously struggled with body image.

I’ve counted calories.

I’ve cried in front of mirrors.
I’ve worked out till I puked.

I’ve run until a website told me I burned as many calories as I took in that day.

I’ve been sick.

That was years ago.

Since then I tell myself every day: my beauty is not scale deep.

It has nothing to do with what you think about me.

I don’t want to go back to a PC function or America and have you try to convince me it does.

My weight has fluctuated based on any number of things. Namely, stressful jobs deserve 2 am pizza, in my opinion.

Yes, I weigh less now than I did a year ago. No, I have NO idea how much.

I have worked out almost every day of Peace Corps. Because I have time and space and will. Not because I want to lose weight. Not because I want to look like I have no ribs. Not because I want you to approve of my body.

I eat considerably healthier here, because I have no choice but to cook for myself most days. Because fruits and vegetables are the cheapest things. Because processed foods are expensive.

So yes, I weigh less now than I did a year ago.

I’m here, begging you.

Please.

I have enough neuroses for both of us. For all of us.

I’m beautiful, healthy, strong, and proud of finally loving my body, no matter what form it comes in.

I don’t want comparative compliments.

Feel free to compliment. But please don’t say I am "better than I was" because the scale reads a smaller number.

I’m not better than I was - in the way you think.

I’m better than I was in eleventh grade.

I’m better than the sick girl who couldn’t find confidence anywhere.

I’m going to stay this way and to do that I need your support.

I need you to acknowledge that right now I am happy and healthy but not relate it to my current or previous waist size.

I also need you to not talk about your weight in front of me.

You're beautiful.

When you say you aren't. When you say "I'm fat." 

I think, look at this stunningly beautiful woman. She thinks she's fat. If she thinks she's fat, she must think I am a blimp. She thinks she's ugly. She must think I am hideous. 

This cyclic mess damages both of us.

Look, you're beautiful. I'm beautiful. You'll be beautiful no matter how much you weigh or how old you get or how many pimples show up or how much hair grows or how much you shrink or how defined your muscles get. So will I.

A final word.

Curves are f*cking awesome. Hips mean you are able to have a child. YOU CAN CREATE LIFE INSIDE OF YOU (if you so choose).

STOP DOUBTING THE BEAUTY OF THAT!!!!!

Anyway,

I'm beautiful.

You're beautiful.

Don't forget that.

p.s. If you are struggling with eating disorders, please reach out for help. Getting help is not about being weak, it’s about knowing how heavy your load is and how much easier it would be to carry with help. Quit Facebook, turn off the TV, put down the magazine, and call someone.