Tag Archives: body shaming

I’m sorry 

This whole self esteem issue is driving me insane. I don’t know how I let the words of a mean-ass bitch cut through my skin. It had taken me better part of the last two years to be comfortable within my own skin. Not just me, I used to urge people to do the same, too. I still do, but now I feel like a hypocrite. 

So I wrote this “thing” to just get it out of my head because I really can’t keep it in any longer, I’ll go crazier. 

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry I’m not skinny like the other girls you like so much. I’m sorry I’m not as beautiful as your last one. I’m sorry you find me funny to look at. I’m sorry you had to put up with catfish after you’d had caviar. I’m sorry for not being fairer. I’m sorry for not having the perfect face. I’m sorry for my stretch marks over which I had no control. I’m sorry for my skin reacting the way it was evolved to. I’m sorry for my nose, and I’m sorry you had to look at it. I’m sorry for not having a symmetrical body so it’s appearance could please you more. I’m sorry my butt is spotted with cellulite. I’m sorry my breasts aren’t as identical as you’d like it to be. I’m sorry the sight of me makes you cringe. 

I’m sorry, even know it’s not my fault. 

I’m sorry for it all. 

*Picture by Sanjana Dawani. Seriously, stop what you’re doing right now and check out her page on Instagram. 

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Mean

It’s been twenty years since I’ve come into this world. Sadly, I’ve been sensible for only the past two. Even when my actions made no sense, I don’t think I was ever someone who judged someone based on how they looked. I wasn’t that type of an asshole. Mainly because who the fuck am I to call anyone ugly or fat or whatever when I’m the same?

So when someone who knows absolutely nothing about me, started to talk shit about how I look and the way my body is, I lost it. It’s not like I haven’t heard how weird I look before. I agree with everything people say. My nose is weird. My skin is abysmal. My hair is worse. I KNOW. I know everything that is wrong with me but why the fuck do you need to repeat it over and over again? Even that’s fine when it’s all just a joke and everyone is making fun of everyone. It’s the comparison that hurts me. Specifically to someone who just brings out all my insecurities. 

There was this girl who just started talking shit about me. Mind you, this girl knew me for about twenty four hours. Then she started comparing me to another girl, whose name literally makes my heart drop to my stomach in an instant. First it was all a jest and even I was laughing but then she said something like: “God bless the man who has to see your face the first thing in the morning” and “That girl makes Niddhi look like a pig next to her” and I fucking cried. I mean this man she’s talking about doesn’t exist in my life yet.  It might’ve been a joke to her. That girl that she’s comparing me with isn’t even in my life anymore. And moreover, I know I look a little bit like a piggy.

But why hit right where it hurts? I mean I don’t go digging around other people’s insecurities then why the fuck are you doing this to me, man? Why are you being mean to me when I have done absolutely nothing to invite that kind of behavior? Why are you comparing me to someone in front of whom I will never have the genetic advantage? It’s not my fault I look the way I do. They didn’t ask my when my chromosomes were pairing up. They didn’t ask me what levels of melanin would I prefer on my skin. They didn’t ask me what kind of hair would I like. I was MADE this way. 

I even know that a dude will never ever choose me if his decision is solely based on the way I look. (To be completely honest, even if you put my personality in the mix, it wouldn’t help. Because who wants to listen to my dark humored puns and several fandoms all the time?) I know everything a person can hold against me. I’m everything a person doesn’t want in a human body.  How the fuck is it my fault that my skin is the dark or that my hair can’t behave itself. 

Why do we have to belittle someone just for the sake of being mean? I don’t understand what joy do people get in making someone feel so small and so bad? Why can’t we let people be?

There’s nothing funny or fun about bullying someone. It sucks, trust me. It makes you question everything from the way you look to the way you talk to the way you feel.

Please, just be a decent human being and don’t make fun of someone just for the sake of having a good time. All it does it create more mental issues. I don’t need more things to worry about, I have way more than enough. I don’t have relief in any aspect of my life. Why did you need to fuck it up even more?

So, please, for the love of all that you hold dear, do not make fun of someone’s insecurities.

My lists

So I introduced an idea a few weeks back. It’s in the post titled Take it off. It was that we all should make two lists. Under one head we should list down the things we don’t like about ourselves which are more physical in nature, and under the other one we should list down the things that we like about ourselves which are not physical.

Obviously, I expected some people to hit me up and tell me that it isn’t so easy to love one’s self. They told me that someone who has spent decades hating the way that they look cannot just change that by making some stupid list and embracing themselves. And if I think I’m so good at this accepting myself thing, why don’t I make a list and post it on my blog for the world to see.

I hated the fact that they seemed to assume that I had no insecurities and thought that I think I’m perfect. I’m not. I’m actually very very very far away from it. You think I don’t get that envious chill when I see someone like Gigi Hadid, or Adele or Lisa Hayden? No, it’s not that I don’t get insecurities. It’s just that I am what I am and I cannot change it. I’ve accepted it. When I had really bad insecurities about my looks, I actually thought about getting a rhinoplasty. There was even a family joke about it. What they didn’t know was that their jokes hurt me. My nose is weird. It’s not big or small..It’s weird. I don’t even know what shape to call it. I started taking the idea of changing my nose very seriously. Then one day my glasses slipped down lower on my nose, making my nose smaller in appearance. I looked in the mirror and thought…Is that me? That didn’t look like me. I didn’t like it very much. I didn’t want to look different. It occurred to me that even if I did change my nose, I wouldn’t like it very much. What’s the point of spending all that money and still not liking myself?

So, no. I don’t think I’m the the most beautiful person in the world. No, I don’t have the confidence of someone who doesn’t give a fuck. No, I do not think that I’m invincible and most importantly, No I don’t think I have the power to change anyone’s opinions just by posting something on the internet. It has to be you who does it. I can probably help a little by telling you that it is do-able and not the most bizarre thing in the world. Loving one’s self is difficult, especially when you’re your worst enemy.

But if knowing about my lists make you feel better, and makes you think that it’s possible that you can accept your body, and love yourself then I will gladly do it.

The things that I don’t like about my physical appearance are:

  1. I have these small bumps and red dots all over my arms and legs. I don’t know what they are, they’ve just been there ever since I can remember.
  2. My hair. It changes seasonally and since monsoon is coming, I need an army to protect my hair from frizz and shit like that.
  3. My vagina. Long story, but I’m very, very insecure of how it looks.
  4. I regret the scars on my thighs.
  5. My elbows and Knees. They’ve always looked like I was born in a coal mine. Again, no idea why.

The things that I like about myself that aren’t physical:

  1. I forgive people easily.
  2. I’m there for people. No matter what. Literally.
  3. I’m loyal.
  4. I defend my people to hell and back ( I guess that comes under loyalty)
  5. I do not judge. Like, at all.
  6. I’m independent.
  7. I learn from my mistakes
  8. I work hard. (Remember when I was working 17 hours a day?)
  9. I’m funny, man. It’s dark humor, offensive humor and way more sex jokes than should be allowed, but funny regardless.
  10. I’m strong as fuck, bro. Sometimes I surprise myself.( I didn’t think I’d survive 30th June of last year, 28th August of last year or 28th April of this year, or 22nd May of this year. But I did. I’m so proud of myself for that. I’m not saying I’m unbreakable or that I can’t be hurt. No, all I’m saying is that I’m capable of handling a lot of things that life’s thrown at me.)
  11. I accept myself.

So there you go. My lists are all out in the open. My lists of things I like about myself is longer, because I’ve developed those traits. Not to impress anyone, but to become a better person. For the people around me and for myself.

Again, by no means am I suggesting that I’m over every little insecurity that I had. I’m not. But no one, and I mean absolutely no one in this world is going to make me feel bad about my body, not even me. Especially not me. You can point out my mistakes, you can remind me of them for the rest of my life, but you cannot say that I haven’t changed for the better. And I will keep on changing.

So should you. If you don’t love yourself today, it’s okay. You will if you try to. You will fail, but that’s okay. Nobody succeeded without failing first. You’re not doing things right if you aren’t failing. So failing is okay. Be sure to get back in the game and start from the scratch if need be. You’re worth all this effort. Trust me.

You’re beautiful and you’re unique and the world wouldn’t be the same without you.

 

 

 

 

Shame.

So throughout this post I’m going to pretend that I actually am someone who is entitles to have an opinion on things like self confidence, body image and such things. So bear with me.

I’m a little annoyed when everyone keeps on asking me things like, “You’re kind of overconfident, aren’t you?” Uh, yes I am. It took me YEARS to be confident with my skin. Constant reminders from everyone who called me ‘Fat’ and ‘Round’ and ‘Fat-ass’ didn’t really help, either. If I wore clothes too loose, it was a problem and it was an even bigger problem if I wore them tight. I couldn’t show too much skin because what am I, trying to get cat-called everywhere I go? I couldn’t wear clothes which covered me too much because then I’m a prude who doesn’t know how to dress.  I was constantly reminded that I wasn’t as pretty as the other girls and that I should learn to behave and dress more like them. It’s hard being my body type and then dealing with these comparisons, too. I’m not lying when I say that I actually considered plastic surgery to change how I looked. I ruined my body because if something is already ugly, what difference a few more scars are going to make, right?

Then it was October and I’d gotten my first five figure check. I was an 18 year old, working 17 hours a day, dealing with so much shit and making more than anyone in my family. I was going to put myself through law school. I was independent and I guess that was the little push that I needed. It might sound weird, but it was Donatella that gave me the first shred of confidence. I mean the song, not Versace. I listened to it over and over and over and over again. I didn’t need the approval of anyone else to convince me that I’m a bomb. I didn’t need other people telling me this on social media. Hell, I didn’t care what anyone thought.

It’s my goddamn choice to rock a turtleneck or a tank top. I don’t care if I’m showing too much skin or too little of it. Guess what? I love it and you can shove your unasked opinion right up our anal cavity, thank you very much.

Now, another set of people who didn’t develop further than the stage of being an asshole are the ones who think that if you look good and you feel good about yourself you have got to be doing it for ‘someone’ else. These people make me laugh, really. You think I own every shade of red lipstick, just to impress some dumbfuck who doesn’t see the difference between Ruby Woo and Classic pirate? You think I’m wearing a winged eyeliner sharp enough to kill, it’s for some  guy? Are you serious? Guys don’t know shit about make-up. I was shopping online once and I asked my friend which one of the two shades were better.

Me: Okay, which one will look good on me?

Palash: *Glances over at my phone* What’s the difference?

So if anyone in the world thinks that she’s putting on make-up for you, you need to get down from that imaginary horse you have because no woman does her make-up to impress anyone other than herself.

Now, getting back to the point. Big surprise! You will have a billion reasons in the world to feel bad about yourself. You will make so many mistakes in your life that you will start hating yourself. But making mistakes shouldn’t make you hate yourself or your body. The best thing you can do is apologize for it, and pray to every god there is that you will get forgiveness from those who you seek. You can’t do anything else, to be honest. We don’t have a time machine yet (At least as far as I know). You need to own up to what you did, accept consequences and come out a better person. People with negativity will always leech themselves onto you because they can’t get over their own insecurities. It’s a  Hum to doobenge, tumhe bhi le doobenge type of situation. We didn’t get over our issues then why should you? You need to surround yourself with better people, people who support you no matter what or a million blog posts from a nobody like me won’t help.

You are a bomb the day you decide to be. Have no shame in taking compliments, you deserve them. Do whatever makes YOU feel good and flip the bird to anyone who says otherwise. You’ve got a scarred body? Cut? Burned? So do I. So do more than 7 billion people out there. People seem to have this misconception that guys aren’t victims of body shaming. Yes, they are, and they don’t get enough light when this issue is talked about. It’s not easy to be a guy and be commented negatively based on physical appearance, either. All this shade people throw on each other just based on how they look is the stupidest thing to do with your time.

You are who you are, and no one has the power to change it and no one should. I don’t wanna be weird and quote Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta, but

“You’re beautiful in your way, because God makes no mistakes.”

These words are everything, and it doesn’t matter if you believe in a God(s) or not. You were made the way you were and there are no mistakes when it comes to that. There’s a plan set out and everything is going accordingly.

So if you’re down about anything, get out of bed, listen to some gangsta rap, fix yourself something to eat, put yourself together and reign like the Queen/King you are.

 

 

 

 

 

All

I’ll call you the boss,baby
You can have it all
Tell me when to run and when to stop
Ask me to jump and then to fall
Baby, you can have it all.

He had his eyes on me when I saw him
As he was walking to me I was falling
I knew it was wrong but to be honest
His eyes were the world and beyond it
I should’ve ran but I stuck on him
His skin touched mine and I lost it.

His mouth was Halloween
Promised all the wicked things
His tongue licked his teeth,

Got a plan on his mind

won’t let a second go to waste.
He’s sick, he’s twisted but he’s on it
He says, “Turn around,doll, I got this.”

He got me right where he wanted
Pinned underneath him and panting
His hands curled my throat and I liked it
“fuck it” I thought and started.
His room is fire, his bed is black
He’s doing that thing, back to back
Got a feeling I’m slipping through the cracks
But hell, he’s body is a party worth all the jacks

He’s bad, he’s taken, he’s on shit
He’s a devil, he’s a dog or all of it.
He’s lethal but I can’t seen to fight it
He’s in love with my skin and he’s marked it.
He’s smoke, he’s wine and chocolate
He got bourbon on his breath and  want him

He’s in me, I’m on him, we can’t resist.
He’s bleeding from his wallet but damn it
I couldn’t care less about what’s in it
He’s a white winged devil, an angel
He’s a scoundrel underneath all that gentle
I thought he got game but he’s fatal
My, my he’s making me grovel.

I’ll call you the boss, baby
Just don’t stop.
Call you the boss, baby
You can be my storm,
I’ll let you have it all
Just don’t stop.

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*Art courtesy, again, the very talented Sanjana Dawani. If you haven’t checked out her pages on Facebook, Instagram and Bananabandy yet, what the hell have you been doing yo?