On Being Chubby, and Trying to Not Hate It

Loving yourself is not always easy. Forever torn between wanting to accept myself in the body I have, and wanting to change my body/get back to my slender self, self contentedness is like a unicorn; hard to find, and harder still to hold on to.

You could say I have a love hate relationship with my body. There are days when I get dressed and I look in the mirror and think to myself “hell yeah, girl. You look the bomb”. And then there are other days when I avoid mirrors altogether because the sight of my own soft, round body makes me feel disgusting. Especially when I am confronted by photos of myself from a few years ago, when I was smaller and probably far more comfortable in tight fitting clothing! The thing is, where once I would have been described as svelte, these days I fall somewhere in the curvy category. Or, more accurately, I think I am actually smack bang in “chubby” territory. Which is fine…until it isn’t. And the truth is, most of the time lately, it definitely isn’t.

A lot of my close female friends are all about that female empowerment, self love, and not subscribing to mainstream ideas about beauty. They inspire me, constantly. But when I am home, stripped down naked in front of the mirror, there is a big part of me that can’t help the barrage of negative thoughts that flood my brain. I prod my soft little tummy with a finger, I grab at my wobbly inner thighs, my face scrunched in subconscious disdain. Clothes don’t fit comfortably, and I am forever conscious of the way I look, terrified that someone is going to point out that I am extra chubby lately.

It’s a horrible thing, to not feel comfortable in your own skin. And its exhausting trying to be positive about it all the time. Yes, my body is a wonderful and powerful thing, and yes I know that I should focus on the good bits, but sometimes I just feel a bit shit about it. I mean, right now is a particularly bad time, because it’s that time, which means my tummy is rounder, and achy, and I just generally feel a bit awful about everything. I am fairly certain I can be forgiven for not being all self love about things right now, and I am trying not to feel guilty about not loving myself as much as I should. It’s a process, what can I say?

In a society where we, as women, are still inundated with images of impossible standards of beauty, loving yourself can sometimes feel like an exercise in futility. But I’m trying. And hopefully I can learn to fully love myself the way I am, chubby body and all.

Love-Hate Relationships; Body EditionĀ 

I’m chubby. There’s really no denying it now. Softer around the edges, wider around the hips, wobblier around the thighs, and all of my clothes range from just a little bit too tight, to blazingly uncomfortable. I am sometimes ok with it, sometimes not ok with it. Existing within a changing body is a strange thing.

I’m not used to carrying this extra weight, and I’ve spent a lot of time prodding and poking these newfound chubby bits, trying to make sense of them, and the way I now fit this new, heavier form. 

I used to be an incredibly active person. Everywhere I could go, I would walk. And then I got my license and I got lazy. And then I moved to the city and I didn’t trust the area enough to walk at my preferred time…which is and has always been in darkness. And then I got a job working in a call centre, where I spend most of my day sitting down. Slowly but surely, my weight crept up and up until I realised that it wasn’t just me noticing, but other people too. Now, I’m still perfectly healthy and all, I’m just all over rounder.

I feel uncomfortable a lot of the time. Conspicuous. I have taken to wearing increasingly looser fitting clothing, both because I don’t like super tight fitting clothes and because I feel less obvious that way. This new insecurity is very unusual for me, who has always been fairly confident…if somewhat awkward. I’m not sure I like it all that much either. And I think that has a lot to do with my irritation at allowing myself to become so lazy. I think complacency can be a dangerous habit, and I’m annoyed that I’ve become that way.

I’ve been making more of a conscious effort of late, though. Trying to see the good things about this different figure, whilst simultaneously making an effort to get more regular exercise into my somewhat monotonous routine. I see a lot of beautiful curvy women and I see how comfortable and happy and confident they are, and I envy them a little, because I’m still not 100% happy with my own reflection at the moment. Everywhere I look I see slogans about body positivity, and I am doing my best to love my chubby body as much as I loved my un-chubby one. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t. I guess it’s human nature to feel uncomfortable in our own skin from time to time.