Changing The World, One Negative Image At A Time

Ugh. It’s another day. Another day of school. Another day of being depressed because I have to squeeze my thunder thighs into jeans again. Ugh, God, this blows.

That’s what I used to say every morning. I’d look in the mirror and be completely disgusted with the person looking back at me. Not just because her clothes were on the “eh” side, but also because her body sucked. She had these thunder thighs, a gross pooch at her stomach, and no butt whatsoever. But what sucked was that she was me. I used to hate my body and in turn hated myself. I prayed and prayed and prayed to be like the models in Vogue, InStyle, and Glamour. But one day, I got something even better.

It wasn’t any special sort of day. It was just another day, like any old day. I think it was raining. Or maybe it was just muggy. I don’t remember, but the weather doesn’t really have anything to do with this story. The day started like all the others have before, I woke up, grabbed some jeans and a t-shirt, gave myself a look of disgust in the mirror and proceeded to get on with the rest of my day. I remember thinking to myself, “If only my clothes didn’t suck. At least that would be a bit of an improvement.”

Ugh. I made my way down to the kitchen. Time to go eat my feelings. I trudged down the stairs, my headphones on so as not to hear my brother poke fun at me. I went straight to the refrigerator, grabbed the orange juice and turned to get a glass when my mother walked up to me. She was moving her lips but all I heard was the lyrics of the music I was listening to. She was smiling from ear to ear. I remember thinking she looked totally creepy.

“Huh,” I asked as I took out my earphones out.

“You look so good, honey! When’d you get this skirt? You look great? Did you pick this up without me? We should’ve shopped together!”

“Huh?”

“You look so good, baby! It’s about time you get out of those jeans.”

“Riiight…”

I went to the cupboard to get that glass for my juice. Wait a second! Skirt? I grabbed jeans. Huh?

I bolted for the downstairs bathroom and closed the door. The mirror on the back of the door came into view and I almost dropped to my knees. I was taken aback by the reflection looking back at me.

The girl had on a deep purple blouse thing that made its arms look great, toned even. The skirt she was wearing was A-line and had a black and white pattern. It made her legs look nine miles long and her butt looked good in it too. But as great as this girl looked, why was she standing where my own reflection should be, the one wearing the jeans and dumpy t-shirt? There was no way that this was my reflection. And then I touched the mirror.

It was me. That was my reflection. What the hell? Where’d this skirt come from? The blouse is actually kind of cute. I think I’ve seen it in InStyle.

I pulled myself together and walked out of the bathroom. I returned to the kitchen with my family looking at me, confused at my behavior.

“Sorry, sudden… bladder urge,” I blurted out, reaching for the first excuse that could possibly explain my sudden exit from the room.

“EWW!” My brother always has to say something.

I left my house and started for school. On the drive there, I kept looking down at myself, trying to think up an explanation as to how I got into this outfit. There was no logical way. But I had to admit, that I looked pretty good. I looked good in purple apparently, and the skirt was pretty cool. I liked it.

The parking lot was where my friends and I met up before class. My best friend, Alysha, was already parked and chatting it up with my other friends.

Alysha was a lot like me. Same body issues, same hate towards self. So imagine her surprise when I stepped out of my car.

“Wow! You look so cute! You went shopping without me? When? Why? You look so cute!”

Everyone else seemed to have the same reaction. I continued to get these reactions well into lunch. It made me feel good. I never had someone tell me that I looked good in school, let alone almost everyone in my classes. I felt my confidence rise a little bit. I think I smiled a lot that day.

I sat down at lunch with Alysha, like I did every day. She started asking me about my new look. I didn’t want to tell her that I didn’t know how it happened. She was my best friend but she would’ve thought me a mental case if I had told her the truth. So I just told her that I thought it was time for a change.

“I wish I had a change like that. My butt is so huge and don’t even get me started on my thighs. I don’t know. But I’m going to get some water. I’ll be right back.”

I nodded. She left and went into the lunch line. I thought to myself, “She just needs a good pair of jeans. Maybe a straight leg in a dark wash. I’m so jealous of her curves.” I put that idea into the vault in my mind so I would remember to bring it up the next time we were out shopping.

When she returned, she noticed that I was looking at her kind of funny.

“What?’

“Those jeans..”

“Yeah, aren’t they great? Thanks for noticing this morning, by the way. I compliment you but you don’t do the same for your best friend.”

“I guess I didn’t notice.”

“Or you were just jealous of my awesome booty!”

I’ve never heard her refer to her “booty” as “awesome.” I was so confused. She was wearing jeans like the ones I thought I had put on this morning. What was going on? And where were our jeans going to?

And then the light went off in my head. I was doing this. I was changing the clothes, and not only that, but negative attitudes with them. I didn’t change the person. I just made them look better and feel better about themselves. I know I did that with myself. I stood tall that day. And Alysha said her booty was awesome.

So now, when I hear a girl say something negative about the way she looks, I just think of how she could look better. Maybe a pencil skirt or a two button blazer with a low stance. And I think that I help whenever I do what I do, one body image at a time.