Learning to love myself, fat rolls and all.

Day 72. Reflections while in a steaming hot onsen.

Content Warning: This post contains discussions about weight, eating habits, and body types, which can be sensitive or triggering for some people. Please read with care and consider your comfort level before proceeding ❤️

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This is what women’s magazines should be made of.

I’m soaking in 40 degree waters at a public onsen and I can’t help but to look up at the women around me.

There are bodies of all shapes and sizes – tall, short, skinny, plump, muscular, saggy, hairy, hairless, young and old.

When I was in primary school, I had a bit of a fat girl phase. I don’t really remember this, but the story is that my brother and I were obsessed with our auntie’s fried chicken, and we had it almost every day for a month during our school holidays. Then my brother shed his extra weight, and I continued to carry it with me all these years.

Whatever it is, I’ve never been the “skinny girl”.

I still remember when puberty hit and clothes I got from local blogshops wouldn’t fit me the way it fit my female friends. It frustrated me and ate away at my self-confidence, making me feel crappy and fat. In fact, even on Singapore’s hottest days, I used to be so insecure about my arms that I would rather cover up my shoulders and perspire like mad under my sleeves, than to reveal my arms.

These days, I don’t beat myself up as much about these insecurities anymore but I still stare at myself in the mirror, noticing the extra fat rolls sitting above my hips, pinching the extra meat hanging off my arms, wishing they would disappear.

I’d stare enviously at other girls in catalogues and on instagram, contemplating for the millionth time my food and lifestyle choices. Wondering what it would take for me to look like “one of those girls”, whatever that means.

So imagine my surprise when I walked around the public bath, not feeling awkward or self-conscious but instead, feeling accepted.

Having been stripped down to my skin, I couldn’t hide the parts of me I hated even if I wanted to. Without clothes, makeup or jewellery to distract away from our insecurities, we just had to show up as we were. And it was liberating.

I saw how women walked around unbothered, regardless of whether they were young and thin, muscular and chunky, or if they had sagging breasts and tummy rolls.

Whatever we might feel about our bodies were put aside at an onsen. After all, we were all here to take care of it.

As I looked around, I quietly celebrated the understated beauty of natural, normal and imperfect bodies. I realised that I couldn’t remember the last time I saw another woman’s body that wasn’t objectified or sexualised.

I was, for the first time in a long time, seeing another woman’s body just as it is.

At a glance, I saw how motherhood or age or exercise shaped a person’s body. There was nothing ugly or awful or undesirable about our bodies. We are all just real people with real bodies that are shaped the way they are because of what it needs to do.

Watching the steam around me rise and fall gently, I send a mental note of appreciation down through my arms, belly and thighs. No matter what I hated about my body, it has carried me through life and will continue to take me to wherever I dream of going.

The night darkens as I get out of the steaming pool. This time, I stood a little taller. I imagined my younger self watching, noting me as another example of what a woman could look like.

Tomorrow I might look at myself in the mirror and pick at my flaws again. But not today. Today, I fully accept myself.

Perfectly imperfect, with my fat rolls, my chunky arms and my thicker-than-usual thighs.

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Note:

Writing this was unexpectedly difficult and awkward for me. I spent more time writing and rewriting this post than any other journal entries I’ve written in the last 2.5 months.

I think it’s because I don’t have all the correct words to describe how I feel about the complexities of maintaining a healthy and kind relationship with my body. Maybe because I’m not entirely there yet? But I wanted to share this anyway because it felt great to have my self-critiquing-goggles lifted, even just for a moment.

I know I can’t be the only person out there who struggles with loving even the seemingly unlovable parts of yourself, so here’s a gentle reminder to be kind to yourself every day.

Annnnd to all the women reading this, Happy (belated) International Women’s Day! ❤️

P.S Did you see..? I can draw! 😛