Let me start by saying that I have been very small since birth. Being a twin meant that from my first glorious breath I was a screaming, red, tiny baby that barely fit in an adult’s arms without slipping, what they don’t know is that my size was a ploy to slip and escape the grasp of cooing mothers. Since then, I grew up as an energetic child that was thrown headfirst into a world of dancing and gymnastics, probably in hope that once I dragged myself home I would fall straight to sleep… I didn’t. So yes, I am small. What I don’t understand is why my body is discussed by judgmental strangers who think it is their right – no, their moral duty! To point out how I should eat more.
“Is that all you’re eating!”
“Why do you even buy food if you’re not going to finish it?”
“You should eat more.”
“Are you not going to finish that?”
I’m sure these certain people believe themselves heroic, fighters of the portrayal of women in the media, however, that’s not what they’re doing. They see my body and believe that I starve myself, which is both unfair and annoying.
Sometimes, people need help, they need you to listen and hold them until they are strong enough to build themselves back up physically and mentally.
Sometimes, people need to be pulled forcefully from their handmade cages, they need you to drag them kicking and screaming until, finally, they can feel the warm sun on their raw skin.
Sometimes, people need to stop judging others because they are different sizes than themselves.
I am me.