I have body issues, but they’re not what you may initial think.

I know I’m thin. I’ve always been. I remember in the 7th grade I used to drink Ensure to try to gain weight. Luckily, when my hormones FINALLY kicked in, I did gain healthy weight. But now, I always go back and forth between thinking I need to tone up (never lose weight, guys— always always always tone up), and then realizing, “fuck, I’m too thin.”

I never really like talking about it in fear to get the look right after someone rolls their eyes that usually equals out to, “Shut the fuck up, you skinny bitch.”

Even now, I struggle with feeling that I look like a 14 year old boy. But, wait — the boobs definitely help — but middle school insecurities usually pop up when I accidently loose too much weight. And I’m serious about the accident-part.

My summer escape from my parents’ house was the 7:30 p.m. run every other day down the newly-paved road. Such enjoyment did lead to great results — slimmed down a bit and got my dancer’s legs back — but it also got my mom’s attention leading to the always irritating momma-statement, “You’re too skinny.” Or when your boyfriend’s grandmother looks you up and down and without a smile says, “You’ve lost some weight.” Wow, thanks.. I think..

Then, now I’m fighting to keep my food down after ingesting some not-so-digestive Mexican dip from my favorite Lafayette Mexican restaurant (well, not favorite anymore). After 24 hours of feeling like crap and not brushing my teeth in fear of gagging over the sink, I finally felt fantastic. I guess I went alittle too overboard and ate things that would send my stomach into a “eject” mode the next day (aka, today). I ate half a Nutrigrain bar, a Spicy McChicken and a pretty heavy stuffed Cajun catfish at a nice restaurant. Hindsight tells me that I may not have gone so hard on my stomach in its vulnerable state (after hurling every 30 minutes- 2 hours for almost 10 hours straight).

But yesterday when I was feeling good, my boyfriend took me to dine out (let me repeat, I was feeling good) to re-celebrate our 2-year anniversary. He gave me a necklace (the first piece of jewelry he’s ever bought for me, so it’s a big deal guys) and we got all dressed up to go eat at a nice restaurant.
It was in the photo we took together before we went out to eat that I realized, “Fuck, I need to gain some weight.” I don’t know if it was because I hadn’t eaten that much, or if I’ve slimmed down more than I thought, but I looked skinny in that photo — and I never think I look skinny. I’m just me.

I don’t mean to complain about my weight. I’m really not. I’m very happy with it, I just have to worry sometimes about getting too skinny. I really like curvaceous women (Marissa is curvy, in that really long and toned way, so don’t hate), and I do wish I would be curvier. Like literal waist to hip ratio isn’t to my Marilyn ideal, but my ass will spread after I have kids — so I’ll get there eventually.

Until then I need to concentrate on keeping my food down and keep running, b/c I’m falling back in love with my legs. I lost touch with them around the same time my boobs came in and I fell in love with them. So my legs and I have a lot of catching up to do.

***Oh come on — that last line was funny***