To Our Bodies: Perfection Is Embedded In Us - Olubanke Favour
Growing up, I always believed that by the time I was 21, I would have a body shape like Beyonce’s.
In secondary school, I used to be the subject of subtle bants by my friends, and they would talk about how small I was, my height, and my body shape. Imagine being 17 and weighing less than 45kg. Tough right?
It wasn’t really a bother until people started talking to me about it. My friends would ask what exactly I ate that made me look so small. I became very self-conscious and started wearing baggy tops and big shirts. I was a tomboy from SS1 to SS3, and soon, I started to hear fewer and fewer comments about my body because no one couldn’t see anything. My mother, on the other hand, was concerned about my wardrobe choices. Little did she know that they were hinged on the insecurities that fenced my mind, and were solidified by society.
Things didn’t change when I entered the university. Cab drivers always asked what year I was, and my roommates immediately knew I was a fresher - they didn’t even have to ask. In my second year, I stayed in a place where a boys’ hostel was directly opposite ours, and at night, the boys could see us. I remember trying to clear out my window when the boys started shouting “Emeka” repeatedly. They were shouting at me because I was wearing a big top and my chest looked flat. I remember using laughter to mask the screech of utter pain, and how I shattered into many tiny fragments that split across my sheets and soaked my pillow.
I have a small body that doesn’t fit to the standards we see in the media, and I had to learn to accept and cherish it. As a woman, it’s not safe to think your body is not worth the love it deserves because it doesn’t fit the social construct of “figure-8” body shapes. No doubt, society has a huge influence on the female body image, and it is very unfortunate that how a woman perceives herself is dependent on how society sees her. I have friends who fit into this construct of “the perfect body,” and there’s an invisible nod of approval by society. But then, what happens to those who don’t fit?
What happens to someone like me?
I won’t lie, it was very hard to accept the fact that I might remain like this for a long time. It took a lot of effort to gently remind myself how beautiful everything about my body is. It took time to let myself know that I am worthy, even in my “imperfections”, of great love and great sacrifice. I also had to realize that having a positive body image involves understanding that healthy attractive bodies come in different shapes and sizes, which are influenced by genes and diets. The sooner I understood that physical appearance says very little about my value as a person, the better my self-esteem became.
Now, I wear clothes that I feel very comfortable in, and I don’t feel inferior when I’m surrounded by taller women or women who have “better figures.” Bants and comments about my body no longer get to me, and I am happy because I have found freedom. I have stopped trying to beat my body into perfection, because my body is the perfection I seek, and the only things I say are declarations and affirmations of beauty.
To every woman reading this, whether you have thunder thighs or slender arms, perfection is embedded in you. You must never forget that.