It’s an accepted reality that weight, whether it’s holiday induced or not, will always be a year round trending topic. Very much like the fat that garnishes my own muffin top, it’s a deeply embedded insecurity that we can never seem to permanently shake off.
Admittedly weight will always linger at the back of my mind (as it probably does for most people) but today it reached an unprecedented and unusual high. I’m used to people ranting about their weight because these days who doesn’t. Even I’m part of that club. But today I woke up to not one, but two texts from two unrelated people complaining about how fat they were feeling or how much weight people n0ticed that they gained.
Weight, it really is it’s own kind of epidemic that I can’t seem to ever fully get a grip on, despite numerous health articles, psychological research and personal experience offering their own explanation. Ironically these people who complain look almost perfect in my eyes, and I’ve even exclaimed and admired at how skinny or sexy they are. Even they’ve returned the favor to me from time to time. So weight lang, what really is the problem then?
My only explanation is this: No matter how little we eat or how much we exercise body dysmorphia and baryphobia is the genetic mutation of our generation. In whatever shape or form, we are all born from that same genome.
No matter how petite you are, or how voluptuous i am, or how far apart our vital statistics may be, we’re all really on the same self conscious weighing scale. And sadly whatever our body type may be, those numbers are the scarlet letters we always bear.