Things to Talk About : Body Shaming

Note: Essay writing has always been quite a task because unfortunately our education system is as unimaginative as it gets. Thus after years of writing 'Science: a curse or a boon' and 'Unity in Diversity' my prose writing has simply refused to produce anything more than Facebook status updates. This is but a desperate attempt, because someone seriously awesome told me that we should try to write about things we feel deeply about. I feel deeply about 'body shaming'. 

I think I was in the second standard, when my grandmother first pointed out that I might have gotten exchanged at birth, because I was not fair like my parents or my grandparents. It was a joke. It was a ‘harmless’ joke which eventually became my identity. I was the dark, tall, blunt featured girl who after a point hated school programs because she would always get the weirdest possible roles, even though everyone admitted that she was a great performer. I am the only girl I know who has been cast as Ravana, Yamraj, Duryodhana, Hanuman, a tree, local gunda, and the Giant in The Selfish Giant. The only feminine role I was ever offered was that of the Goddess Kali. Though an adult me knows that any role is worth the effort, but a 15 years old me had had enough, and said goodbye to her aspirations to join professional theatre. 

I think I would have called quits on a lot of things but thankfully, my parents were feminists of their time who brought up their daughter like a ‘son’ and I wore my hair short, bought only pants throughout my teenage, and played football at the neighbourhood field, picking up profanity faster than any boy of my age. I was desperate to prove to everyone that I could become a better boy, and nobody pointed out that a child should just aspire to be better; the gender is irrelevant. I was the letter perfect tomboy, and before the hormones could even hit me properly, the fate of Kajal in ‘Kuchh Kuchh Hota Hai’ and Rani in ‘Mujhse Dosti Karoge’ had already taught me that in the rare occasion of romance, I shall always remain second to the ‘Fairs’ & the ‘Lovelies’. 

The Defining Moment Of My Childhood

It is quite unnerving to imagine how smoothly a teenager was being taught her place in the society just by her looks, and no one seemed to quite understand the role that they were playing. My cousin did not realize that during our trip to the north-east, when she laughed about my mongoloid features, she was just kickstarting a lifelong discomfort with one’s own face. My physical education teacher did not understand that while warning the boys on the field against picking a fight against me, he was mocking my genetically inherited strength, and made me give up karate while I really liked it. My ‘foreign-return’ uncle, did not think that his joke about finding me a husband from Nigeria because ‘no Indian man will be a match for her’, developed body image issues, in me, so deep rooted, that it took multiple abusive relationships and a lot of reading to finally see through all of this. Another blog post is necessary to touch upon the conditions that finally made me muster the strength to fight against the anxiety of never being good enough.      

I am telling my story because it is my story to tell, but I know a hundred similar stories of women and men developing body image issues because of the lack of awareness among adults, who have been our guardians or heroes at some point. It’s so frustrating to think that adults, the people whom we were supposed to be looking up to, were creating such deep gashes on our self-esteem and simultaneously teaching us racism without so much as a flinch. Believe it or not, 70% of my friends’ circle is made up of self-loathing individuals who would just about do anything for some amount of validation, and they are actually the happier lot that I know. 

Some of us developed unhealthy defence mechanisms, which range between eating disorders and commitment issues to self harm and crippling depression, and that’s not even the sad part. The sad part is that nobody is ready to take responsibility. Nobody is ready to accept that their words and attitude had such profound effects on young minds that it is taking lifetimes to deal with that trauma. Most of the time, I think people are insensitive and selfish but then again everybody is shaming everybody else. How is this system going on for so long without anyone realizing that it is harming us all? 

My cousin damaged her hip permanently wearing heels because she was short. My physical education teacher became an alcoholic when he developed a potbelly (or was it the other way round?), but he definitely suffered. And my uncle left home in the first place because he was bullied for not having ‘manly’ looks. But will these people understand the implication of their own actions? I don’t think so, and even if they did understand, they won’t accept it because if they did, they will also have to acknowledge the role of society, media, culture, and individuals in creating such disturbed human beings and good god, imagine the complete overhaul of values and standards it will take to put things right! Let’s just look the other way.  

A post-colonial country like ours does not bother much with stats. So, I don’t have figures for India, but a BBC report in 2019 had reported that 1 out of every 8 British citizens has had suicidal thoughts because of body image issues. Add to this our obsession with fair skin, Aryan features, and the general lack of sensitivity towards mental health, you will see that the figures in our third world country is the numeric version of the word ‘dismal’.   

Nonetheless, the world is apparently changing and even ‘Fair & Lovely’ got a new name but funnily, 2020 CBSE Class XII topper, Divyanshi Jain could not escape becoming a meme. A girl who managed to score the highest marks in the country was being laughed at -- you know why? Because she is bucktooth. Just that. While you let that sink in, I have a question for you humanity: how do you sleep at night?     

Why not?

It all started on a summer evening. Like every other middle class Bengali who is still in Kolkata and has surprisingly managed to get employed, I had a long, tiring, and 'sweaty' day at work. Just as I was gathering my stuff to leave, I was invited on a 'walk to the metro station' by this really hot colleague of mine who is so out of my league that Sakhshi Tanwar would feel a little more comfortable playing Daenerys Targaryen than what I felt.

I was anxious, I was sweaty and to top it all, I was self-conscious to the point of a nervous break down.. Now who wouldn't be conscious if you are as tall as a lamp post with dark circles till your chin and oil pouring out of your skin like the middle-east? I have grown up watching the 'Fair and Lovely' ad which has taught me that to get married, or to get a lover and even to get a job you need to be fair and lovely. 

The moment we stepped outside the office and started walking he asked 'Is something bothering you?' and me being me blurted out, 'I am so sweaty that my pants are sticking to my inner thigh and my underarms feel like jelly fish.' I knew I had made friends with a good man when at this point, my hot colleague burst out laughing. He pat me on my back and said, 'That's good. It proves that you have worked a lot throughout the day.' Thus, the day was made.

The idea, however has stuck to me ever since. Why don't we ever appreciate what is natural? Why are we so ashamed of the fact that we sweat, or have facial hair or have huge feet? 

Well to be honest, by 'we' I actually mean women. I have seen my girl friends and also have subjected myself, to absolute torture when we have spent our own hard earned money to pull hair out of our skin. Waxing every bit of self love that we have and threading our personalities to that perfect arch of an eyebrow. 

I have been told by my male and female friends alike that I sweat like a 'man' but very few appreciate or even acknowledge the fact that I do a lot of things like a 'man' by the social standards. 

I run after the bus like a man without thinking about whether my breasts are drawing attention from all that running. I carry 20 litre water jars up the stairs to the fourth floor of a building, without asking another man for help. I swear like a man, at a man or woman who pisses me off without worrying whether it is 'lady-like' to know of such profanity. So the question is why isn't this ok? Why is it that I am usually taken to be this very angry and volatile person because I behave in the way that naturally comes to me? 

My lack of filters is thus considered to be 'manly' but why on Earth should natural behaviour be the essence of one gender while the others are expected to pretend all the time? 

I will bet my life on this that nobody will be able to give me an answer to these questions other than 'Men and women are different' or 'Women look beautiful when they take care of themselves' or similar such absolutely pointless arguments which basically do not even qualify as an argument because we have already accepted them.

Here I have a request for the handful of readers this blog post may ever get. Can we please start thinking about not stereotyping gender? Can we please start accepting people with all their naturally beautiful flaws? Can we please appreciate women who sweat, as hard workers? Men who go to the salon regularly are not homosexuals by default and even if they are, you and I are nobody to mock them. Men who spend time to look good are not feminine. Why not just accept individuals? Tell me, why not?