I’m quite skinny.
I’m sorry, ladies and gentlemen and otherbeings, but no, in the bigger term than the OMG YAY it won’t help when you hit your magick number.
I am really sorry, but I love you too much to lie to you.
I am enviably skinny. I eat what I want and still maintain a modelesque figure.
What’s the line?
"I am tall and I am thin. Of an enviable height. And I’ve been known to be quite handsome, in a certain angle and a certain light."
And you know what? I really struggle to make female friends. All throughout high school, most girls wouldn’t talk to me. At all. And I completely forgot about this until last year at work, when it happened again.
Grown women. Not talking to me. Not including me in conversation. Actively laughing when I tried to contribute, or alternately acting like they hadn’t heard me. Because I’m skinnier than them.
That’s the worst of it. Other, less hurtful but no less annoying side-effects is trying to find clothes that fit. I could possibly dress like a model if I had a few thousand dollars to spend on each outfit, but we all know that the models are sewn into the clothes as it is. Fashion is an illusion, that’s why we love it so.
The other thing that frustrates me is people offering me food, candy, chocolate. As soon as I say, “No thank you,” people immediately say, “Oh go on, you can get away with it!” As though the only reason to refuse food is to lose weight.
Would I change my body shape? Fuck no. I love my body. I love my ribs, my spine and my hipbones, and the way they feel under my hand (or under someone elses’ hands). I love looking long (at least once I find the right clothes). And sometimes, I like the look in other girls’ eyes.
But you are setting yourself up for a big come-down if you promise yourself that skinny = happiness.
Happiness comes from loving yourself and knowing that you’re sexy. And sexiness comes, not from the pretty face or the appealing body (though these certainly help), but from the books you read, the conversations you have, the way you wear your clothes, the way you’re first up on the dance-floor, the way you don’t fucking care whether your body is skinny enough.