The F-word

The dreaded F-word that I got to hear almost on a daily basis at the school and sometimes also at home. It wasn't in English though. And maybe it meant differently for those who used it to address it, but for me it was a description of my size. I started to use it too at home occasionally, I do so even now), I do not think I mean it in that way. But I certainly use it with a negative connotation and not as a term of endearment.

I was not conscious about my size but was made to feel conscious. It was not the movie stars or models which made me feel insecure but the insensitive mockery that my classmates would make of my size, my gait. I used to wonder if I was not what is considered to be a 'above average' student then how much worse it would have been. 

I wasn't the best at physical activity. But maybe a little practice and encouragement would have helped. Remember, this was the time when I was also dealing with the secrets of my eyesight. Anyway, it wasn't until later when I came realise the body image issues that I seem to have given home in my mind.

I didn't take a compliment for what it was. I thought I'm only all brains. Why would anyone like me for anything else. There were a lot of jokes - teddy bear jokes, cushion jokes, breaking the stage jokes etc. I remember being called an 'aunty' by a boy who was probably older than me on a Sankranti day. Which worse, calling a random girl as aunty or stereotyping aunties as women who are heavy?

Our society is all for people talking about someone else's body but cannot bear anyone talking about their own bodies. How many of us even look at our bodies and know it well? When do you feel uncomfortable when X addresses Y as 'fat' or when Y talks about 'stretch marks'? Are you okay with your parents addressing one of your friends as 'the fat friend'? Is it so hard to remember names?

I do not know how but over a period of time I lost few kilos and am not overweight as per the BMI index. But the teenager in me who used to check her weight on the weighing machine secretly by taking a photo on her mother's touch screen phone(I'd bend to see the number but the number would change) still dreads the thought of putting the weight back. And the reason is that I didn't really change anything much in my diet, I wasn't a heavy eater or had any hormonal issue which would warrant such weight. I really do not know how I got in the size that I am today.

The people who used to mock me that I'd lose to them in a running race(if she was so toxic with me I wonder how much toxic was she with her son) now tell me that I looked better that way. The sense of entitlement they have to give unsolicited opinions on my body. Maybe some insecure people thrive by making others feel insecure.

While I didn't get any comments from any teacher about my size but remember one particular teacher making fun of the smaller size of a classmate and saying how will she attain puberty. When I look back all of this seems so shocking. 

When will we learn that 'shaming' children is maybe the worst thing one can ever do. The othering that happens on the basis of language, class, academic performance, physical looks (also caste, but I personally didn't experience it) etc is what is carried forward into adulthood. The shaming continues and turns into gossip. 

I urge you to look into the biases and the stereotypes that you hold based on how people look and what is the basis of it. Next time you see someone passing a comment on someone's body let them know that they have no business in doing that. I'm sure people wish to be appreciated for their looks but not by every other person. 

I hope people understand that the words they use have a power to become chains of labels tied to a child filled with infinite possibilities. I hope that people realise that they are being insensitive and not that the one being shamed is being sensitive.

I hope the F-word is not used in a negative connotation. I hope I grow into a person who is able to reclaim all the words that were used to shame her. I've written few poems on my body and it feels little liberating. 


'Body' (Dec, 2017)

Arms adorned with scratch marks,

Legs bearing the designs of stretch marks

Face still having the remains of pimples

When all I wished for were a pair of dimples


This abode of mine

Kept me alive for all this time

My vehicle, my home in this beautiful world

Long black hair, few locks naturally curled


Grateful to be able to see the bright colour and the darkest shade of black

Thankful to be able to listen to melodies and the chirping birds at the back

Wishful that I'd speak my mind more often, stand up for what is right

Hopeful that I'm running towards a future that is bright


Promise to take care of my home

For this is where I'll always belong

©heartstrings_pal_ryu


Thanks for reading.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Sounds of an Indian city

I was supposed to write about the ‘Honking Culture’ of India. When did it begin? How did it begin? I wonder. On the roads of the cities of this nation, it appears as if everyone is in a hurry. I do not know where is this sense of urgency coming from. Maybe people are late to work/school/college in the mornings and want to hurry back home in the evenings. But that would leave the afternoon without the orchestra of cacophony. But alas! These ears will not be spared. The villages have a slow-paced life they say. I am beginning to wonder if that is the right pace of living. Today, nothing short of instant is expected. Maybe the cities are saturated, there are just too many of us on the roads and the public transport doesn’t help much. I spent a good 26 years of my life living in a house that was on the main road. I was so used to the sounds of the vehicles that only when I would play my recorded videos and I’d realise the loud traffic noise that was the background music of my daily lif...
Read more

Language and Punishment

 Hello,  I happened to watch a documentary called 'Wisdom of Trauma' which moved me. It talks about how people take on addictions in the form of work, drugs, tobacco, sex, video games etc to feel better. People try to escape this reality which hurts them. The underlying intention of 'wanting to feel good/better' is what caught my attention. The escape that we choose, in my case I'd say I consume social media and also take writing as an escape from the reality. While this is unhealthy, but not demonised like other addictions, say smoking or drinking. I have been witness to what these addictions can do. And I realise why is it difficult to let go of these habits of escape. Help, addiction is but a cry for help. Next time, you use statements like 'I hate people who smoke/drink/do drugs', maybe think again. We tend to do self harm in different ways, but what we are in need of is help. I guess this is what it means to hate the sin and not the sinner. The other pr...
Read more

God's Own

 2024 was a year when God called me a lot. My wedding was at a sacred place where the believers dream of organizing weddings. And then, the God’s Own Country called me not once, but twice after a gap of 16years(longer than vanvas). Though I was 14 years old, I don’t remember the details of most my school ‘excursion’ trip. I fell sick, had a fall out with ‘friends’, locked out one of my classmates and had explosive diarrhea on my train back home. Anyway, so not exactly a trip to remember. But I liked the places that we visited, though I do not remember their names. I remember the beaches, the Guruvayur and Padmanabhaswamy Temple, Sunset and sunrise point of Kanyakumari, some National Park, some waterfalls, the boat houses of Alappuzha and the non-existent toilets.   This was September of 2008, the monsoon of my last school year. It was kind of freeing in some way, I stopped pretending to fit in and tried to make a mark of my authentic self. And fate(of this universe) would ...
Read more