Thigh Watching
Here is a thing about me: I thigh-watch.
Everywhere I go I stare at thighs in leggings and thighs in jeans and thighs extending column-like from miniskirts and sundresses. I watch thighs with birthmarks and thighs with stretchmarks and the glimpses of thighs through fashionably ripped denim. I watch them fold elegantly over one another and I watch them pressed together daintily. I look at thighs that meet and thighs that don’t and thighs that barely change in thickness from ankle to hip.
I’m weird (and slightly creepy), I get it. But thighs? They are my measuring post.
Once upon a time, I had a glorious relationship with my legs. I played netball, hockey and competed in athletics competitions and as such, my legs rewarded me by being chiselled and lengthy and blemish-free. I wore skirts with gleeful abandon, venturing out into the sub-zero Northern winters with my pins on show and a smile on my face. My legs and me? We were homies.
Then one day I sauntered unassuming, into one of my favourite clothes stores and realised that I could no longer tug a pair of their trousers up past my knees. They got to my thighs and simply…stopped. Incredulous, I tossed them aside and reached for another pair and when the same thing happened, I stood in front of the fitting room mirror and stared at my legs and started to hate them.
So I started to look at thighs. Unconsciously at first. My eyes would linger too long on a pair of legs that looked like mine used to and I would feel a twinge of jealousy and another twinge of self-loathing. I’d make some sort of silent promise to myself to do enough lunges to right the situation and when I would fail, I would hate myself and my legs a little more. Then I would see another pair of thighs that were “better” than mine; shapelier or tapering just the right amount and I’d watch those for a while and hate my legs even more. Rinse and motherfucking repeat.
The internet is chock full right now of body acceptance and HAES articles. Real stories from real women that are inspiring and uplifting and measured and while I love them, they also make me feel a little guilty. Because right now, I don’t accept my body. At this moment in time, I’m not happy with the way I look and more importantly, the way I feel in terms of health and I am in the process of doing something about it.
I am aware that there is more than one way to be beautiful. There are hundreds of ways to be desirable and sexy and I don’t buy the BS pushed by magazines and fashion houses that only skinny is beautiful. I am aware beauty comes in all shapes and sizes and races and ages and in the future, I will be one of those women who can and does feel stunning at any size. I will never be skinny and actually, I’m absolutely fine with that.
Does this mean that I will stop trying to eat a little better, sleep a little longer and exercise a little more? Not at all. Does it mean that there won’t still be mornings (like this morning) when I wake up, put on a skirt and twenty seconds, rip it off in favour of jeans? Probably not. What it does mean is that my thigh watching has to stop. I need to stop equating my reality with someone else’s version of normal. There needs to be some kind of happy union between getting healthy and accepting myself.
For me, it starts with stopping comparing myself with others.
I want to thank each and every one of you who commented and/or reached out to me after the last post. I am feeling better and although I know these emotions come in waves, right now, I’m surfing and not sinking. Ask me again tomorrow. I am grateful for all of you.
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Stereo. 20-something aspiring bon vivant. London based. Exceptionally Nigerian. Partial to snark. My default setting is "wry". Jeans and blazers are my uniform. Landlady. Speed reader, tuneless singer, hoarder of words, drinker of Schloer; I am suspicious of most people, have zero tolerance for tomfoolery, have a vast DVD collection, worship at the altar of Al Green, own too many bottles of nail polish, have small eyes, small ears and giant hair and owe approximately 86% of my awesome to the Parents Typewriter.
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The Scintilla Project
I’ve always thought you were a beautiful soul…and that’s the important place for beauty to be.
And…whenever somebody says ‘thighs’ I think either of purple prose (her creamy thighs) or chicken thighs…mostly chicken thighs….and drumsticks, natch.
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Stereo Reply:
July 18th, 2012 at 14:35
*high five* chicken drumsticks FTW.
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oh girl, ALL OF THE YES. this is perfectly stated. let go of the vision of unrealistic perfection, achieve self love, and still, do what feels and IS right and best for YOU – because that is the only person you need to please.
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Stereo Reply:
July 18th, 2012 at 14:36
I will tape this across my mirror when I start to wish that my thighs weren’t my thighs.
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Stereo*,
You are beautiful.
I understand body image. Trust me. I’m a fat kid from way back… I’ve always been a fat kid. I’ll always be a fat kid. There are times when it feels like the entire planet is targeting me to make me feel shame over that fact.
Being healthy is important. That should always be the goal. It doesn’t matter what shape a body is. It only matters that it functions properly.
I’m having a hard time with the second one these days. I’ve always been fat, but lately I’ve been unhealthy, and I’m afraid I’m getting worse.
But, I understand… thighs, backs, waists… those are the things I’m never going to have defined as anything but “round,” and I wish that wasn’t true sometimes… I can understand.
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Stereo Reply:
July 13th, 2012 at 16:25
Thank you for this comment, Matt. Sometimes it escapes me that it’s not just us women that experience these same issues and I need to be more aware that men too go through these things. I think we’re all on the right path – we just have to keep focused on why we’re striving to change and make sure we’re doing it for the right reasons.
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M.A. Brotherton Reply:
July 18th, 2012 at 15:00
We actually had a really great conversation about this at the event this past weekend. Our conclusion was that men tend (in general) to internalize these things and women tend (in general) to externalize them. We then came to the conclusion that women over think their body more than men. At least as far as our rather small sample pool went. (4 men – 2 women)
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If the dimples on my thighs could pop out for a second to slow clap, you’d be hearing their applause right now. Amen, my friend.
[I was kind of hoping you'd accompany this post with a collage of candid snapshots of people in inappropriate jeggings wear on the subway. *snicker*]
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Stereo Reply:
July 13th, 2012 at 15:49
I am thinking of starting a tumblr: LeggingsAreNotTrouses.tumblr.com where I can showcase the atrocities I witness on a daily basis. I know you would enjoy that
♥
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I stare at women’s stomachs for the same reason.
It’s only in the last year that I’ve actually started to love the body I have. Yes, I want to make changes but no longer for the wrong reasons. I want to do it to be healthier not because I need to be smaller than the woman next to me.
It’s so hard to love the skin you’re in some times *hugs*
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Stereo Reply:
July 13th, 2012 at 15:43
Yes, yes and yes again. “Yes, I want to make changes but no longer for the wrong reasons. I want to do it to be healthier not because I need to be smaller than the woman next to me.” I want to kiss you for this statement because this is where I am now. Learning that my focus should be my health and my happiness. And remembering always that this is not a competition.
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guilty. oh god SO guilty of doing this and more. i compare EVERYTHING. body acceptance is an ongoing struggle for me
good luck with your inner fight *hugs* one day, maybe soon, we’ll both stop being our own enemies for good
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Stereo Reply:
July 18th, 2012 at 14:34
Please don’t feel bad at all. I think most of us struggle (at least some of the time) with this type of thing and I think it’s important to be honest about it and support each other where we can.
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Same here. I used to be skinny during grade school and high school until College. But when I started to work, everything bulges- from arms to stomach and my thighs and butt. It makes me feel sad to think that I gained so much weight. It is hard to go back again. But even though my friends and relatives tease because of my fat thighs, I have a pear-shaped body but I still manage to wear skirts, mini dresses, leggings, slightly exposing my ever-so-expanding thighs hehe. I am okay with this as long as they don’t get any bigger. LOL
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