It has been nine weeks since I first arrived in America, and it is still incredibly disorienting to me when people describe height in feet and speed in miles per hour. People still honk because I am looking in the wrong direction when I cross the road, and I still hold up lines because I can’t for the life of me figure out what is a dollar bill and a $5 bill. Equally confusing to me are the differing beauty standards. Something all of us — especially girls — deal with.
I guess I always knew that beauty was a social construct. But it can be so hard to remember it when someone calls you fat or tells you that you weren’t that cute anyway. However, being in a society so different from mine has only helped me see clearer how fleeting the ideals of beauty can be.
Singapore is primarily a Chinese country. Most Chinese girls are very petite. They tend to be smaller in frame, and have higher metabolism. They are skinny and small, and tend to look that way without having to work out. Now, this is a generalization, and there are most definitely exceptions to the rule. But this is true for the majority.
I am an Indian girl living in that world. So growing up, I was the “bigger” girl. At 5-feet-3-inches and a U.S. size 6, I am a healthy girl in this country. Maybe even on the smaller side. But at home, with BMI standards adjusted for the majority, even now I am considered slightly overweight.
Imagine being a teenager in school and always having to deal with that stigma. To make matters worse, there is a mandatory enrollment in a nation-wide “Trim and Fit” program if those with BMIs considered “unhealthy” must attend, exercising two to three times a week. I was in that club most of my life despite the fact that I was only ever truly overweight for a short period of time when I was 16. I had to deal with the fact that I will always be the fat girl because my body did not conform to someone else’s ideal.
It didn’t matter that I could run faster and longer than most people who were not in that dreaded club. It didn’t matter that I actually exercised 4 times a week on my own. My value was reduced to the number my BMI reflected.
Being in a society like that had its own positives though. My modest boobs were revered by my friends whose bodies didn’t store fat the way mine did. My ability to put on muscle much more easily was admired by my friends who had to chug protein shakes for the same effect.
What a shock it was to me when I came to America and was told my boobs and butt were small. The few things I did like about myself were now not enough. I remember thinking to myself, “Wow, I can never win.”
I have always been bullied about my body. So at this point, I knew better than to let this get to me. But I think I speak for every girl when I say that it still hurts to think that you might not be good enough.
I would like to put this in perspective. In Singapore, and other parts of Asia, there are girls sitting at home hating their meager boobs and butt. In the Western world, girls are pinching at their stomachs and thighs wishing to themselves they could look like someone else. But to what end?
At the end of the day, a pretty face and a good body are just fleeting ideals created by us wanting things we can’t have. While it would be naïve to think that being pretty has no benefits, it is not everything. Yes, being pretty has its pros, but what you say and how you act are shining beacons that overshadow your exterior. You could be the prettiest girl on the planet, but if you’re a bad person, your character will twist your exterior beauty to something ugly. Trust me.
So do your best and be your most honest self. At anything and everything. You owe no one an explanation. Work out because your body deserves better and because you want to be stronger. Wear makeup because it makes you feel beautiful. Put on clothes that make you feel sexy. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks because you’re the only one who needs to care. You are the only one who needs to live with the choices you make. Not the boy at the party who tells you you’re not cute enough. Not your friend who comments in passing on your small boobs and chubby stomach. Not that random old lady on the street who tells you that your shorts are too short. Just you.
