Female body shame

I found an interesting gem searching through old posts on a forum I’ve frequented over the last 10 years:

“I was moving some 50 lb. bags over the weekend and considering what it would be like if I were not roughly that amount overweight.  Or even 25 lbs.  I don’t know if wearing the patent leather heels would be the first thing I’d do.”

While it’s fun to see that and wish I could tell my past self that future self did just that (minus the heels) there are two people I see when I look in the mirror.  Part of me thinks I am still too lumpy.  Part of me thinks I look fruitful, like Eve from the Sistine Chapel.

Why am I unhappy about being fruitful?  This is something I haven’t thought about in a long time.  Does our society bind women into hating their unique power?  In 12 step terms, it falls outside those things I can change, so I haven’t worried about it.  But it seems I can still feel it.  Is it just the fundamental issue of that which is not male, and therefore nonstandard?

I’m not really sure how to draw this to a conclusion.  I suppose there’s that risk of being misunderstood with my effort to maintain a normal BMI.  I guess it doesn’t help my being female to propogate resentment toward males (and all the other categories of normal).  I guess that’s where accepting what I cannot change arrived.  Maybe it’s true that it’s unfair.  But stewing about the unfairness of it mostly injures myself.


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