The Downside of Being Size Zero

Today, everything from bikini hate to racial discrimination is covered in the news, but there is one version of shaming that I believe has been effectively iced over and ignored: thin-shaming.

I am a 4’11”, 90 pound girl, and believe it or not, my size is commented on more than any other part of me. I’ve learned to embrace my less-than-average height, but I haven’t yet embraced the fact that so many people ignorantly make negative remarks on my weight and size, down to the size of my legs.

Sometimes it’s funny to mention that my feet are about 20 times smaller than the average guy that sits next to me in class’s are, but when it comes to sensitive issues such as how much I weigh, I immediately put up a wall. Why is it okay to make derogatory comments about my size, regardless of the fact that I happen to be thin? Does my underweight appearance give people a free pass to make judgements aloud whenever they want?

While my stature may be humorous, my struggle with weight is not. I can honestly say that I have yet to meet someone, especially a teenage girl, that doesn’t struggle with some sort of insecurity that has to do with that nasty little number on the scale. It is sad, and, most of the time, it is without reason, but it does not mean that it isn’t an ever present part of every day for most of us.

It should be perfectly clear by now across all college campuses that everyone has their hidden demons, and statistically speaking, teenage girls with weight issues dominate the board. According to the National Eating Disorder Information Center, about half of teenage girls engage in unhealthy weight control behaviors. So, given that information, in what world would you tell someone in any manner that their weight is not okay?

I am horrified by the fact that since my arrival on campus this semester, I’ve been told I need to go eat a sandwich at least five times. I am even more surprised at the fact that this comment doesn’t come from people joking about my size, but from girls I know relatively well.

In an effort to not be dramatic, I drop my eyes and force a laugh, trying to think of what to say next. How do you even answer that? “Yeah, I should really eat a sandwich,” or maybe, “Oh, no thanks, I’m full.” But the sad truth is, there is no right answer. There is no way to possibly laugh it off. By bringing up my weight like it is some sort of joke or abnormality, every insecurity the world has tried to push into my bone marrow has officially become reality instead of staying in the box of things my mom said were never true.
The fact is, I am proud of who I am and what I look like, and every college woman should have the right to say the same thing. The fact is, I work hard to be fit and healthy, and if it bothers someone that I tend to stay on the slimmer side, they can keep it to themselves. It should be an obvious concept that negative judgements of any kind are not okay, especially when they have to do with someone’s appearance. Our weight is not our worth, and if you judge anyone for theirs, maybe you should eat a sandwich.