MIRROR MIRROR ON THE WALL, WHO'S THE SKINNIEST OF THEM ALL?

It’s no secret that popular culture celebrates the ‘thin’ and associates them with being happy and beautiful. This misconception has somehow been entrenched in our brains, so much so that the very thought of 5 more kilograms in our bodies is enough to send us into a deep dark place. I recently went into such a dark place when a lady at the canteen innocently commented that I had put on weight; she said “unonile” (you've gained weight) with a misguided enthusiasm. Those few words sent me into shock followed by an immediate wager of war against food, and in seconds I went from “happy” to insecure and miserable.

As the voice in my head was outlining a boot camp-like exercise regime and eating plan for the next few weeks or at least until those pesky 5 kilograms fall off; I realised how willingly and easily I become unhappy. I was reminded of an ancient Hindu saying that "the mind is maya" (mad). According to this  ancient belief  the mind will actively seek circumstances and reasons to make it unhappy. I couldn’t help but feel my mind had indeed gone mad; I was having a good morning until my mind without my consent decided to make this woman’s comment the "falling of the sky". At that moment I made my entire existence about a number on the scale, I reduced myself to something very small.

The obsession with being thin however tacit, is present around us. This calorie counting preoccupation is un African; this can be proven quite simply by observing any grandmother’s reaction to a few extra kilos on a beloved granddaughters butt. These extra kilos are met with praise and pride, and seen as a true testament of the said granddaughter’s happiness. So then it appears the obsession with being thin is a new age phenomena amongst Africans. Fashion has certainly played a big role in the rise of the skeleton age, with models that are too thin giving the impression that those gorgeous clothes are made only to look good on the thin. Every other advert on TV seems to depict a thin seemingly happy person; magazines are also not without blame.

What baffles me is how all the fiercely real* ladies I know don’t spend their days counting the number of calories they have consumed, or obsessing over how much of those calories must be burnt off. I’m very envious of how unapologetic these ladies are, they don’t base their beauty on a number nor do they base it on the unsolicited opinions of others. These fiercely real woman carry a few extra pounds and they are not asking  anyone for permission or approval.  

This to me offers conclusive proof that self esteem, self image and confidence have very little to do with what the scale reads and more to do with one’s internal image and sense of self. 

Our definition of what beautiful is cannot be left to others to scope out; we must be in a position to tweak and tweeze this definition as we choose. We the descendants of voluptuous women like Sarah Baartman have a beauty incomparable to any other; and any attempt to align or match it to others does a great injustice.

Instead of watching the scales like a hawk lets watch our blood pressures and sugar levels. I personally am tired of the weight watch, and to quote Jessica Weiner; “Life does not begin five pounds from now”

* Fiercely real <Ladies with curves and owning them>