I used to wear pants when I was younger and I loved it.
But as I grew older and became more exposed to the society, I was made to believe that the smaller waist line you have the better your pants will look good on you. I was bombarded with photos of these girls with perfect curves and the thinnest waists I could have ever imagined to attain. It became a big deal what my waist line was… to the fact that it mattered so much even though I was never really overweight.
From then on, I only wore shorts and skirts… or skorts (yep, they exist bro.) I never wanted anything that would indicate what my waist line number was. It was taboo to me and pretty much a psychological thing. I would wear shorts and skirts only with the size chart that indicates small, medium or large. If it’s something that indicates whether I am a 24 or 25, it’s immediately back on the racks.
Until four months ago, I tried to conquer this fear.
I pulled out a pair of jeans from my sister’s wardrobe (being that I didn’t have any) and went to work. It was a very surreal feeling. I was very conscious with how I moved. It felt very uncomfortable at first but I eventually eased in to it though still very eager to take it off.
When I got home, it was a relief that I was able to remove the pants. After that day, I never wore pants again. It was still pretty much a big deal to me until December came.
I was placed in a situation where I had no choice but to invest in jeggings, leggings and jeans or I’ll freeze to death. I was about to leave for my Europe trip to visit my best friend Sapphire. She was reminding me of the clothes that I needed to bring for the winter. It was only then that I confessed that I didn’t own any pair of pants… she was shocked as if I committed a mortal sin for not owning one.
“Those are basic needs…” she said.
I felt a bit stupid for actually not even having a single pair of jeans just because of I believed I wasn’t good enough to wear it. I wasn’t that proud with my body.
Then came the day of my flight and after a 22 hour travel time… Europe happened. I had to wear a pair of pants every single day to keep up with the cold weather. It was a necessity.
It took me nearly 6 years to be able to fully accept my physique.
When I came back from my trip, I was more confident with wearing pants.
The numbers don’t matter to me anymore, it was a psychological fear I was able to conquer by facing the fact that there’s more to life than being afraid of what the society has instilled to me. Plus, wearing pants is super comfy ❤
I am very happy I have overcome body shaming myself.
If you are reading this and you’re going through something as well, some eating disorder or obesity… I couldn’t possibly give you the best advice in the world.
What I want you to know is that the change started in me. The people close to your heart may help with how you deal with your problem but the decision lies to you. My problem may be way easier than what you are going through right now but always remember there’s more to this world than numbers and what the society bestows upon us.
As the Justin Bieber song goes… Love yourself.