I’ve wanted to write this entry for a while, but I didn’t know how it was going to be received. I don’t want people to read this and pity me or think I'm just fishing for attention. As I’ve gotten older, I started realizing how many girls have the same issues I’ve had and it’s just compelled me to try and do something about it. It's really weird being on this end of the spectrum. I remember not listening to my older friends (who were then the age I am now) because I didn't think they understood. Mind-blowing.
I’ve had self-esteem issues growing up and as an Asian, there’s pretty much this added pressure to be stick skinny (because Asian people think everybody’s fat). Nobody gets that besides other Asians. Lately, it’s been so freaking frustrating. When I say “I’m considered fat in Asia”, it doesn’t mean I think I’m fat! It means other Asians think I’m fat! It’s been a little stressful because I prefer Asians, but the guy absolutely cannot be stick skinny. I’d feel fat all the time, regardless. An Asian friend and I were talking about that and he said “You know, in China, girls try to be as skinny as possible because they don’t want the guy to say they’re heavy or fat. I think personally, that is silly. Instead of making girls to be skinny, I think guys should beef up”. He just earned brownie points.
I remember my mom thought I was too skinny when I was a kid/teen, so she always let me eat more to gain weight. Didn’t happen. I guess my metabolism was way high because I ate a ton. I was about 105lbs before I moved to the States. College all-you-can-eat dining halls was like heaven to me. For pretty much every meal, I had a cheeseburger, fries, bowl of mac and cheese, bowl of canned fruit, maybe a plate of one of the specials, and ice cream with sprinkles. By the time I went home for Christmas break, I weighed 120lbs. Now, that’s not a bad thing. But when I got home, the first thing my mom said to me was that I got fat. Followed by I looked like a boy and that I was ugly. Subsequent meetings with family and old friends resulted in the same thing: they all said I got fat. Some even had that smirk of “finally, she’s fat”. I was horrified. When I got back to the States, I had juice for breakfast, and a bowl of iceberg lettuce and grilled chicken for lunch and dinner. I went to the gym 3x a week and spent like an hour on the bike or something. When I went home for summer, I got better remarks. I lost the weight I had gained.
A lot of people know the hurtful comments my family have made about my weight, but it’s not only them. I dated this one guy who, after a month or so, started telling me I needed to lose weight, I needed to go to the gym, I needed to be like other girls, and a lot of other degrading stuff. That would've been when a lot of people would've dumped the guy. But apparently, the reason I stayed in the relationship was because I never really had the love of my father, and so it resulted in me looking for it elsewhere; in a guy who was mentally and emotionally abusive to me. One story that shows how much he cared about me: he loves bread and he always ran out of money every month. So the loving girlfriend that I was got him a ton of different bread and cold cuts. The day after, I had burgers in the freezer and I wanted to grill one, but I didn't have bread for it. So I asked him if I could have one of the burger buns I got him. He said: "Really? You're asking me to give you bread?" He refused to give me a burger bun. Now that ex is married to a girl who is literally twice my size. I hope he grew up and learned how to treat women right. Otherwise, I hope that girl beats the crap out of him and teaches him a lesson. Now, ladies, some advice: if a guy demeans you in any way, leave. It doesn’t matter how much you think you love him or how much he says he loves you. It’s not worth it. You’re worth much more than the words he describes you with and the way he treats you.
So, I’ve struggled with this baggage of never “looking good enough”. The guy I dated afterwards didn’t belittle me as much. He belittled a lot of other people. But near the end of our relationships, he pretty much told me I wouldn’t amount to anything. I had goals and dreams and he had the nerve to tell me that I wouldn’t reach them.
My mother continued fat (but used the word "big" instead) comments. When I started running and rock climbing, she told me to stop because it was going to make my thighs bigger and my shoulders and arms will become too big and I will look like a guy (me thinking: you already thought I looked like a boy 5 years ago). My sister actually confronted my mom about the things she said to me and my sister. My mother denied it. The last time she saw me, she said I looked muscular instead of fat, but she still added after that: “You know, you’d look great if you lost the belly fat”.
Contrary to popular belief, I didn’t join the bootcamp to lose weight (I joined because I sit at a desk for 9 hours a day. And I like being active. I also kind of want a 6-pack… Just because). In fact, I didn’t lose anything off the 145lbs I weighed when I started the first 8 week bootcamp session. I was 145lbs for a loooooong time and accepted the fact that I wasn’t going to lose weight. I changed my eating habits to a low crap diet and started eating for one instead of three (and to my surprise, I actually lost a good amount of weight). Then my trainer said something that really resonated: “We’re not here to help you lose weight; we’re not here so you can look better naked. We’re here to make you healthy”.
One thing that happened recently during bootcamp, I rolled my ankle when I was doing a Murph (1mi run, 100 pull ups, 200 pushups, 300 squats, 1mi run). It happened a little after the first ½ mi. I guess my adrenaline was so high that I didn’t feel the pain. I pushed through it. I made it through 1mi, 85 pull ups, 170 pushups, and 255 squats within the time limit (I felt the ankle pain after I was done). I felt amazing and proud of myself. Then I remembered my ex rolled his ankle during PT when he was in ROTC and he gave up. And all I could think about was how he called me weak and how he said he had to baby me all the time (WHO'S WEAK NOW, HUH? :p).
I’ve had two opportunities to say something super summarized in front of my church congregation. People thanked me for sharing my experience. But they don’t know how deep the experience actually was. The pain lingered in a low level intensity with peaks of insane sorrow. Then God led me to do this bootcamp at a CrossFit gym. I feel like it was a present He wrapped up for me. Like “do this and move”. Well, I moved. And praise God, I'm soaring on wings like eagles.
It’s so important for you to know who you are and to be comfortable in your own skin. It’s important to know how to be alone and who’s worth your time and who’s not. Parents, your words and your actions affect your kids in ways you would never imagine they would. People, words can hurt. Words are very powerful tools. They can break someone or raise them up. Choose wisely.
Thank you for reading! Leave your thoughts below!
