Annemarie
I’m lucky to be able to say that I’ve never really had too many negative thoughts about my body. For my entire life, I’ve been satisfied with my appearance, never really leaning towards self-hatred or self-confidence. Likewise, my body has always been in the middle. I’m not super thin, but I’m also not very curvy. I remember looking at one of those magazine quizzes about body shapes when I was maybe 11 or 12. When I first looked at the page, I hoped I would be something cool-sounding like an hourglass, or at least one of the various fruits like apple or pear. Turns out, I was a ruler. Yes, that was the actual name of it. The little blurb on the quiz essentially said I had no curves and I was pretty much shapeless. Three cheers for instilling values of body positivity in impressionable young girls!
After that, I remember wishing I could either be super thin or super curvy, instead of the boring average ruler I was. Even now, leggings still slide down my hips because of my lack of curves, and I don’t feel like I have a flat enough stomach to pull off skin-tight tops anymore. I’m caught in the middle and the grass looks greener on both sides. But like I said, I’m not unhappy with my body. For the most part, I can go about my day-to-day life without giving much thought to how I look. I’m grateful to be able to, for the most part, accept my body for what it is.
However, most of my insecurities about my appearance are actually rooted (no pun intended) in my hair. As any Italian would tell you, we come with hair- and a lot of it. My hair is thick, dark, curly, frizzy, and long, so its pretty much impossible to ignore unless I have it tied up in a ballerina bun. For as long as I can remember, I’ve fought a constant battle with my hair. And not just the stuff on my head.
I fell down the rabbit hole of hair removal when I was about 10 years old. I mastered the art (and it is an art) of slathering Nair on my legs and underarms pretty quickly. Putting up with the rotten egg smell for five minutes a week was a small price to pay to avoid being the only hairy one in the girl’s change room (at least that’s what my fifth-grade logic dictated).
Then, at one point, I figured out that other girls also removed the hair on their forearms. As like everywhere else, the hair on my forearms is rather prominent. It’s thick, dark, and long (but I’ve thanked my lucky stars that it’s not curly). Anyways, for a while I tried bleaching these hairs. I have to admit, blonde arm hair on an otherwise brunette pre-teen girl looked pretty ridiculous.
So, one day, I just stopped. I realized that I actually didn’t mind my natural arm hair, and I found the concept of waxing it or shaving it just… unnecessary. For me, at least. So, I said “eff it”, and I haven’t disturbed my arm hair since. I wear T-shirts without any problem, and I genuinely don’t feel insecure if I’m around smooth-armed girls. I’d love to be able to work up to this level of confidence with everything about my body. It’s a pretty cool feeling to have.
While the title of this blog post is a play on Ed Sheeran’s song “Shape of You”, it is actually inspired by one of Bea Miller’s new songs, “S.L.U.T.” (which is a rather convenient acronym for “sweet little unforgettable thing”). Not only do I think the song is an absolute bop, the message in its lyrics is so, so important, especially for listeners even younger than me. Plus, it’s kind of impossible not to feel like a badass when it comes on shuffle. Do yourself a favour and give it a listen.
This has been a bit of a shorter post for me! It’s pretty rare that one of my Fuzzable Blogs clocks in at less than 1000 words. I guess, in this case, I’m lucky that I don’t have much to say about this topic. While I’m not at a level of 100% confidence in my body (I don’t know if I ever will be, or if anyone ever really is), I’ve definitely warmed to Bea’s philosophy of “it’s my own and I’ll keep owning it”. So, that’s what I’m gonna do.
Until next time,
-Annemarie
(#27)
