Growing up, I was always considered “bigger” just because my thighs were big and my female features developed before everyone else’s.
I was objectified by boys as early as 6th grade and girls would stare and whisper about how I wasn’t “all that.”
Why was I penalized for the way my body was developing? I did not see myself any differently so why were others?
I grew up in a family that always emphasized a healthy lifestyle. I ate fruits and veggies every day, even if I maybe hid some of them in a napkin to throw out. Sorry, Mom.
“As long as you are healthy on the inside, it does not matter what you would look like,” my family would tell me.
Throughout high school, I struggled with this image of myself. I viewed myself as “fat” because my body parts were bigger than everyone else’s, although my stomach was of “average size,” at the time.
People, including some of my friends, would go behind my back and explain that my curves were not curves, but fat.
At the time, I only knew to cry and feel terrible about myself. Looking back at it now, these toxic words from others are rooted in jealousy.
From that moment on, I was convinced my curves were fat just because someone else said it.
Well, if that is how one person views me, doesn’t everyone see me that way? I would think to myself.
The way young Sofia would cope with these insecure and body dysmorphic feelings was to not eat. When she did eat, she would purge. It was a mind war. I was playing against myself for a while.
Thankfully, I was able to heal myself through finding self-love and my support system. I started to develop a healthier relationship with food, while still struggling occasionally. But my heart breaks for those who have a harder time healing.
Then, I went to college. A new playing field filled with strangers who are now my best friends. These people saw me for who I was and not just a body to comment on.
On the morning of Nov. 12, 2022, my freshman year of college, I woke up in a body that wasn’t mine—I was over 50 pounds heavier. Deep red and purple lines stretched across my arms, legs, stomach, and chest. These marks would stay with me forever.
At first, I thought I was trapped in a nightmare but, then I began to think this was a curse I couldn’t escape. As someone who already struggled with eating and body image, unexplainable weight gain did not help my self-deprecating mentality.
I didn’t know what was wrong with me. My medical charts now qualified me as the word “obese” —a word I would never use to describe myself. A word that is similar to fat, which is what I have been called by others. Is this true? Is this me?
When I visited back home, most people saw the changes which made me feel unrecognizable to myself and even them.
My female gynecologist blamed my weight gain on the stereotypical college student track where you hit a freshman 15 from eating terrible food. Her assumption about my weight gain without considering other factors made me feel hurt. Especially having it come from a female, someone who might understand some of these struggles first-hand. I felt invalidated and lost.
From then on, I avoided looking in the mirror but could not avoid the fact that other people could see me this way.
Nothing had changed, right? I tried to convince myself—but I was wrong.
Two years later, after battling doctors, and myself, I was finally diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS). PCOS is a hormonal condition that affects women when they enter reproductive age. One of the common symptoms can be weight gain.
Now, I finally had an explanation for this weight gain. But, this did not solve how I saw myself and how others saw me. Especially because the words that come out of college girls’ mouths can be brutal.
I learned the hard way that college students are not more mature. While I spent my first two years at Temple University, I witnessed girls who strive for the downfall of others.
One of their favorite vocabulary terms was to call a girl fat. Flash forward two years later, I have seen many girls continue to use the word “fatty” in their vocabulary as it has become a trendy word rooted in TikTok.
“Fatty” has become a trend amongst teenage girls and girls in their 20s. All of a sudden, even eating a normal portion of food constitutes you as “fat.” I have seen many girls continue to use this word to describe themselves and others.
From girls I know reposting TikToks using “fatty” because they think it is comical, to say it to someone’s face– we are constantly surrounded by toxicity, jealousy, and insecurity.
In my experience, I have seen college girls get jealous because another girl was pretty or got a boy's attention. And without a doubt, she'd insult her by calling her fat.
When I would be around girls like this, it would make me self-conscious. Half of the time they were calling girls fat that were physically smaller than me.
I contemplated how they viewed me because of their bullying behavior. I can attest that I know people who feel this way too. This behavior is extremely difficult to be around physically, emotionally, and mentally.
I’ve noticed that every time a girl calls another girl fat, the girl being targeted is never fat.
Coming from myself, a girl who was once at an average weight and scrutinized for it. Then, I gained weight and continued to be looked at differently. The word “fatty” isn't funny.
Everyone struggles with their body in their way. No one has the right to comment on someone else’s body.
From hearing these words in real life to via social media, it is damaging to everyone’s mental health. Both parties do not benefit from this form of name-calling. It pains me to live in a world like this.
I catch myself constantly degrading myself because of how society chooses to view others. Do I look too fat in these jeans? Can people tell I gained weight? Do they call me “fatty” behind their backs? Why would they say that about someone?
As girls, as a society, we should be uplifting each other—no matter the shape of our bodies. We shouldn't be forming trends over the look of our bodies or calling others degrading words.
As cliche as it sounds, you never know what other people have going on. Someone could make comments about my body and not know that I have a chronic condition.
You would feel bad about calling me fat for something that may be out of my control, right? How about if that happened to you? How would you feel?
I know many girls have been in my position before. However, I want no girl to feel this way— ever.
I urge girls to consider my background and think about each other. I urge everyone to think about their behavior and the words they use. Jealousy can come in many forms but putting someone else down for the body they were born with is a disgrace.
At the end of the day, we are all human, and bringing others or yourself down is not going to make the world a better place.
Sofia Kasbo is the assistant editor for The Setonian’s News section. She can be reached at sofia.kasbo@student.shu.edu.
