The Creative Corner

Growing up, I was considered skinny by societal standards. As I grew older, I slowly gained weight but was still considered skinny. During undergraduate and graduate school, I hit a plateau of 120-125 pounds (just for reference). After graduation, I gained another 15 pounds to end up at a total of 140 pounds. I was aware that I was no longer considered skinny to society, but it didn’t bother me (...majority of the time). Coming from a medical background, my thought process was if my BMI and blood work looks good, then I’m good! Secondly, raised under church, I believed God’s children were beautiful in every shape and form. I had always admired social media posts and articles about the importance of inner beauty rather than the physical. And Ashley Graham is gorgeous, y’all! In addition, I adored my mother and she was medically overweight, but she was beautiful to me in every way (maybe besides her short temper :] ). To me, I understood my weight gain came from the fact that I was no longer sleeping 4 or less hours during weekdays and studying from sunrise to sunset. Also, I was back home from college to enjoy my mother’s cooking as much as I pleased.  I would take some weight gain any day over 4 years of graduate school, because that was the most mentally challenging period of my life.

But then the critiques started rolling in... 

One evening, my family and I met up with my uncle and aunt-in-law at Red Lobster. I have not seen my aunt-in-law since graduate school; instead of greeting me, I hear her whispering to my mother about how I have gained weight and that if I lose weight, my skin will become wrinkly. That was the first time someone had made a comment that I was “fat.” I brushed it off because she has always been superficial. And then about a year later at a family gathering with all my aunts and uncles, my two uncles continuously commented, “You’ve gotten bigger.” And when I went to the serving table for a second serving of food, my uncle said, “You’re eating more? You’re going to get fatter.” Usually, I’m good at brushing off a tease or two, but I reached my limit and my eyes would not stop tearing. Instead of apologizing, they awkwardly laughed. I begged my parents to take me home because we carpooled together, but they did not want to end the night yet. So to add into my misery, I felt alone because my parents did not have my back during this whole situation. During the 20 minutes ride home, my tears were waterfall. I have avoided any big family gathering since. 

Trying to give my uncles the benefit of the doubt, I made the excuse that my uncles were old-fashioned and that it’s in the Asian culture to “help” the younger ones by pointing out their flaws. But then I started hearing it from my friends in the past year. I have a long-time friend who is fit and he would make negative comments about the overweight population and always encouraged me to work out. He has never told me to exercise in the previous 11 years we’ve known each other. And there has been a few times when my boyfriend would look at his tummy and say, “I need to lose this. It’s disgusting.” I can’t help but think he is talking about my tummy too. When the comments are coming from your peers about your physical appearance, it tend to hit harder and it did.  During the COVID-19 pandemic, my group of friends followed multiple Youtube workout videos together through Zoom calls to pass the time. I found myself set in the background while my roommate was set in front. But once, I moved out to my own space, the Zoom exercises were still ongoing but I stopped attending. My roommate was no longer in the same Zoom call as me, and that means the camera was now only focused on me... there was no more hiding behind another person. I felt very subconscious because now my friends can take a closer look at my “fat” body and my physical struggles with following the workout routines.