A Very Special Post: also known as TL;DR

I'm going to start out with my celebrity idol.

She's gorgeous, she's confident, she's one of the best actresses out there on one of my favorite shows, and she is not a size 2.

But notice.

She has breasts.

This isn't going to be complaining about my lack of proper boobage (even if I do envy the more...endowed among us), but look at her. She's the definition of humina humina curvy. Some would even venture to guess she's s little overweight (which is NOT true, but compared to every image we see about what health NEEDS to look like, she's a regular chubbette). But she has breasts.

Why is it that acceptably curvy women need to have T&A (the bigger the better), while breastless women have to be thin all over?

This is where I 'fess up.

I have an unhealthy obsession with my weight.

As the "fat kid" in elementary and middle school, I was not directly teased about it. I also read books. I was middle class in a class full of rich kids. I wore glasses. I was somewhat pretentious. I didn't play any sports. I walked funny. I was THE target of ridicule. Lucky for me, I found people who loved and respected me for who I was, and I was able to survive. High school came around, and suddenly nobody cared. I had hit puberty, and for the first time in my life, I was considered thin. But then I hit puberty harder. I was 125 pounds at 5'3. And you know what? I didn't care. I hated when pictures were taken of me, but so did everybody.

When I got into college, I realized that I would be in a coed environment again. Already having an unhealthy obsession with weight, I did my best to lose those last ten pounds, so I would be beautiful. So I would be worthy of attention. If I wasn't thin, the middle school horrors would begin again. Nobody would pay any attention to me because I was a weird, fat nerd who wrote stories and ate by herself in the library. This resulted in losing twelve pounds unhealthily fast, and eventual hospitalization from exhaustion and hypoglycemia.

A year goes by. I start the year. The semester ends. I am heartbroken by the loss of my first boyfriend, but then the Barely Legal Coed comes into my life. He had been in my a cappella group before, but after crying to him about how ugly I must have been for my boyfriend to dump me like last week's handbag, he interrupted me.

"You think you have this mark on you that makes you ugly, but you're not. You are so beautiful. And I...love you."

Five months later, we're still a couple.

But the feelings are coming back. I've been called beautiful, cute, hot, gorgeous, kind, sweet, and people have told me they're glad I'm their friend. I'm creeping back up the weight scale (even though I know what's causing it--my munchies binges, my lack of working out). I see people who are much thinner than I am everywhere on campus, and I feel a pang of self consciousness. I wonder why the Barely Legal Coed stays with me. I wonder why people call me pretty.

This is selfish. I know this. There are people heavier than me. There are people who would kill to have my body. But this is my blog. And I'll be as selfish as I please.

What is a beauty standard? Why do I feel awful about myself for not being thin enough, not having a tiny enough nose, hating my hair. Why do I need attention from men? Why do I feel like, if I weighed 103 pounds, I would be happier? Why am I constantly comparing myself to everyone else, as if it's a contest?

It's not a contest. I should just get over myself and deal with it.

It's hard.