A Life of Wanting Thinness

Health & Wellness

Image Courtesy of @cemalcandinc on VSCO

Somewhere right outside of the whimsical hum drum that was my childhood, I started to hate my body. 

I don’t remember the exact reason for it, but I know it was the first day of the fifth grade. The hate became tangible. So tangible, I could hold it. I remember this because in my first day of school photos, I wore a red and white striped dress with a giant, plastic yellow smiley face in the center. I was walking home from school and, disgusted by my pre-teen tummy sticking out with the smiley face, hit my stomach with my fist. I hit my stomach with my fist. Being round and healthy was suddenly so inconvenient, and my stomach was so uncomfortable against the itchy plastic smiley face, stitched awkwardly on the inside. My ugliness was screaming. I wanted to be thin.

My entire life since then has been a constant yearning for thinness. 

The desire to be thin is like white noise. From that day onward, the yearning constantly rang in the back of my mind. Whenever I’d eat a piece of pizza during school lunch. Especially, when I’d have two. It would ring when I sat at home on the couch watching MTV Spring Break, doing nothing. It would ring on the school bus watching the thin girls get all the attention. It would ring when I admired celebrities in J14 Magazine and their long torsos and low-rise jeans. It would ring, ring, ring, ring.  

As one can imagine, the insecurity only heightened from there. Britney Spears dropped her first album in 1999, when I was 12. I watched her like a delusional hawk, mesmerized by her sexuality. Hip-hugging jean skirts and belly button rings led me to believe I needed to be fit for true beauty. I wasn’t a sporty gal, so I didn’t upkeep a slender body. I was built strong, with big bones and broad shoulders. But I couldn’t fit into anything risky without looking overly contrived and totally awkward. I wasn’t coordinated and daydreamed about walking down the hallway in between classes with the slender allure of a Laguna Beach bombshell. 

By the time I was thirteen, my boobs were huge and I got my period. Guys started taking notice but I hated the attention. I wanted validation from popular girls. I wanted them to see me as delicate, feminine, and primed to be dainty. Boys were vulgar and called me “BLT (Big Lucious Tits) and I started to, coincidentally, hate my chest. I wanted to be thin and coy. I wanted to be looked at for more than what was making me top-heavy. I wanted a long, thin waist. But I had nothing but squishy hips and the shoulders of a linebacker.  

So, I started obsessing over food. I joined the track team. I bought a notebook and tracked what I ate every day, only allowing myself 1,000 calories (for a growing woman!!). I would think about consuming food hours after consuming it, muddling on the weakness of the act. I was curvy at a young age. And damn beautiful. And yet, thinness—the maintaining and wanting of it—would linger in my mind like an early morning fog. 

I would think about consuming food hours after consuming it, muddling on the weakness of the act. I was curvy at a young age. And damn beautiful. And yet, thinness—the maintaining and wanting of it—would linger in my mind like an early morning fog. 

The ringing, the wanting to be thin, got louder in college. Girls turned into regal women here, and I couldn’t see myself as beautiful as them. The extra time in between classes and naps gave me the opportunity to get into the gym. I went every single day and wouldn’t be satisfied if I wasn’t sweating through my shirt. I reached a point where I dreaded the elliptical. Working out wasn’t an outlet or a hobby. It became an obsession. But the obsession wasn’t helping me. The ringing was always there. 

After college, I was at my skinniest. I was so skinny that I thought I’d contracted ringworm, and I bought my first size two pants at J. Crew. Those pants were a lifetime of success all in one blush colored denim skinny jean. I hate to even type that they were, but I felt a flood of happiness wearing them. The funny thing is – looking back, even then, I didn’t feel thin. The thirst was still eminent. 

Shortly after purchasing my pink pants, I tried a juice cleanse. I had gained a pound or two and was feeling destroyed. The juice cleanse was four days long and I was fully prepared to sit in my house every night, sip fresh-squeezed juices (for only $240 a pack!!), and gain my confidence back. Thinness comes with a price, you know. However, the results were less than expected. On the second evening of the cleanse, I felt so lost and alone, I could barely be with myself. Something about the cleanse was alienating me from my friends, my life, and the outside world. I had two canker sores from all of the citrus and my tongue was raw from the tartness. I broke down and ate. That made me feel alone too. 

Even now, as much as I’ve worked on silencing the wanting, I want to be thin. Most of the time, I love my body. But, it’s not all the time. I still notice my stomach. Especially when I’m sitting in my car and the seatbelt scoops under my stomach there, making it protrude out like a bag of flour. The ring of wanting is with me when I shop and try on clothes. I still want to feel thin in photos. I hate putting on old clothes I find in my closet that don’t fit anymore. Sometimes, I look back on old Facebook memories and see how thin I once was, and a ghostly emotional hole dips down on me like a barn swallow. I’m getting married next year and I silently haunt myself imagining gaining any more weight before then. I lay in bed throughout the winter months, big t-shirts and no pants, and watch my thighs. They pour all over the bed and sometimes I can’t help but stare at them in disgust, like they are giant piles of dusty pizza dough. I buy clothes that are too big for me, because I don’t like trying things on, and baggy dresses hide my curves. 

I’m not saying I don’t have good moments, because of course I do. I know what makes a beautiful woman, and it’s not being thin. It’s being happy. And courageous. And sad. And free. I simply need all of the women in the world to know I struggle too. When women are expected to be beautiful and sensual, the pressure takes a real form.

I’m not saying I don’t have good moments, because of course I do. I know what makes a beautiful woman, and it’s not being thin. It’s being happy. And courageous. And sad. And free. I simply need all of the women in the world to know I struggle too. When women are expected to be beautiful and sensual, the pressure takes a real form. Take this into consideration. According to the World Economic Forum, a robot read 3.5 million books to see how we describe men and women differently. Beautiful, sexy, and gorgeous were used most often to define women. Men were called brave, rational, and righteous. Overall, adjectives used for women were focused on appearance. For men, behavior was key. Women have lived in a world of deep, deep expected perfection. The proof is in the books and stories, all the way back from 1900.

Shopping for wedding dresses has always been a minor fear of mine. So, when I set out to do that this year, I grew nervous. I imagined being unable to squeeze into a bodice or a tulle skirt. When I filled out the fitting questionnaire I wrote “No princess dresses or sleeveless, please. I’m very curvy!!!” like it was some kind of storm warning. The first dress I tried on was simple and a little tight, with a diamond cap sleeve. I barely shimmied into it, the clamps pinching my back rolls. I looked down at the belly pouch that was my womanhood, winced a little, and shuffled to the mirror while everyone looked at me with big, genuine love. The dress was beautiful. I was beautiful in it. I knew right then as I was standing on that tiny wooden podium, in front of the women (and woman) I loved, that this was one of those beautiful, big moments. That moment when I realized I had spent 20 years of my life thinking about the ugly, little insecurities, silencing myself from my bigness and grandness. 

My thighs rub together because they’re strong and round. They hold me safely on horses, because riding makes me feel innately powerful. My body is a freight train and a peaceful river. It’s everything I want it to be, and when I can’t help but hear the ringing and the yearning to make it smaller, I have to let that be human too. 

I’m trying to make more moments like these. And they happen more as I grow older. When I feel at a loss with my body, I slow down. I remember my body is actually incredible. It’s magical. I can GROW A HUMAN INSIDE OF IT. It’s BIG. It carries me across the world. It wakes up for me. My thighs rub together because they’re strong and round. They hold me safely on horses, because riding makes me feel innately powerful. My body is a freight train and a peaceful river. It’s everything I want it to be, and when I can’t help but hear the ringing and the yearning to make it smaller, I have to let that be human too. 

Wanting thinness whispers and makes sound, but it doesn’t hush my grandeur.

BY Brittany Chaffee - October 13, 2019

Did you know W&D now has a resource library of  Printable Art, Templates, Freebies, and more?

take me there 

Arrow Alone

Get Our Best W&D Resources

for designing a life well-lived

8 Comments  +

add a comment

  1. Jenny

    October 14th, 2019 at 8:54 am

    I was just thinking about this in the shower this morning – wanting desperately to look like I did in photos six years ago… when I thought I was too fat. Where did it start and how can I make it end? I read this in tears because your timing and truth is absolutely hitting like a (much needed) hammer today. Thank you.

  2. Brittany Chaffee

    October 14th, 2019 at 9:50 am

    Jenny,
    Thank you so much for this. Our truth is so important and I know these thoughts affect so many wonderful, beautiful women. I hope they subside for you – I’m always working on it. But know you’re not alone!

    xoxo,
    Brittany

  3. Marie Lamensch

    October 14th, 2019 at 10:32 am

    I have an eating disorder that started when I was 27. I am now 35 and still suffer from it. I can relate to your story. Until the anorexia started , I never really craved thinness. I has little self-confidence but I liked sports and even though I was a little more chubby than perhaps the average girl, I had no problem with it. But a suddenly lost a lot of weight as a result of malaria and it all went wrong from there. My brain suddenly decided that I was okay, no, that I SHOULD, survive on very little. Couple that with a detestation of my body as a result of a sexual abuse and you had the “perfect” trigger.I wanted to smaller, invisible. Therapy has helped make me happy again though you can not fully ever be when you still suffer from that deficit brought by anorexia. As you say, in my case is nothing good in wanting to be thin. It doesn’t reflect who I am, it works against me, it doesn’t make me happier. Thank you for your words.

  4. Brittany Chaffee

    October 14th, 2019 at 2:03 pm

    Marie –

    Thank you thank you thank you thank you for your words. I am so sorry you’ve struggled with this as well, and I’m happy to hear you’ve found help and continue to become stronger for your courage. Women treat their bodies like glorified race horses, never good enough and constantly expecting perfection. Nothing good comes from wanting to be thin, but everything good comes from finding the bravery to fight the stigma. Hope you’re feeling better. And thank you so much for reading. xoxo ~Brittany

  5. odessa

    October 14th, 2019 at 3:43 pm

    Brittany, thanks for sharing this and I’m sad you’ve had these struggles <3 I had an eating disorder from 14-24ish but remember in middle school tightening a belt as tight around my waist as I could and wearing it in hopes my waist would get smaller bc it was "too big". I was already underweight but other people's fixation on my low weight convinced me the only thing worthy of attention was being skinny. 13 years later and dealing with a slew of health conditions from years of purging has been a wake up call, because now all I want is to be healthy yet the allure of being "thin" still has a hold on my brain. It's a living hell I wouldn't wish on anyone. I'm happy to hear you can find moments of peace, and hope you find many more. Lots of love to everyone dealing with this.

  6. Brittany Chaffee

    October 14th, 2019 at 4:29 pm

    Odessa,
    Your words mean everything to me!! So many beautiful, strong women struggle with these thoughts and I find so much strength in return talking about them. Even though, at times, they can be so hard. I hope you can find moments of peace as well. They’re so important. And we are all in this inner battle together. Stay strong. <3 ~Brittany

  7. Morgan

    October 15th, 2019 at 9:05 am

    Brittany,
    You’re writing is always beautiful but this was especially powerful! I ran a marathon two days ago and I’m happy to be done with training so I can “slim” down and go back to salads and cycling classes. This body ran a MARATHON and yet that isn’t enough. Thank you for your words as they are a great reminder that life is bigger than these thin little thoughts in our heads.

  8. Brittany Chaffee

    October 15th, 2019 at 1:38 pm

    Morgan,

    Thank you so much for reading and the warm kudos. GOOD FOR YOU FOR RUNNING THAT MARATHON! You are magical. Sending you all the love and emotional body strength your way. xoxo `Brittany

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

MORE LIKE THIS:

Why Decorating Your Home Is Good for Your Mental Health

What 10 Years of Blogging Taught Me

The Hidden Benefits of Being Incredibly Uncomfortable

6 Easy-to-Grow, Can’t Kill Houseplants for Beginners

The Golden Rule: A Dream Career Built From Love, Loss and Resilience

Introvert Dating An Extrovert? Here’s How To Make It Work

Tornadoes to Tablescapes: Life Inside the Lifestyle Blog

Black, White and Love All Over

Marriage – A Requirement of Commitment?

Women vs. Women, and a Little Thing Called “Self-Respect”

Homemade Green Tea and Honey Mask

An Apartment of Firsts: A Personal Story

A Conversation on a New Way to Approach Bad Days with Barbara Powell

W&D Studio Apartment Society: Giselle Ugarte’s Lavish Walk-Up

Look Good, Feel Good in This Made to Last Ethical Clothing Label

You Don’t Know Me, but Thank You

A Choose Your Own Adventure Approach to the Holidays

W&D Holiday Gift Guide: 10 Gifts for Tired Parents

MORE STORIES

Arrow Alone

the latest

Thank you for being here. For being open to enjoying life’s simple pleasures and looking inward to understand yourself, your neighbors, and your fellow humans! I’m looking forward to chatting with you.

Hi, I'm Kate. Welcome to my happy place.

Easily navigate all our recommended products across beauty, fashion, decor, and wellness. 

SHOP W&D Loves ›

follow  @WITANDDELIGHT

ELSEWHERE

PINTEREST

FACEBOOK

333k

3m

12.5k

INSTAGRAM