Thursday 7 April 2016

Can harsh be good, or just rude?

Recently I've had a bit of a hard time with body image worries. Nothing unusual, I think every young person goes through self-conscious periods. But not nice all the same.


I've never been the skinniest girl  (puberty gave me curvy hips and a large chest haha), but ever since  I stopped competitively swimming in 2013 I've noticed that aside from the annoying broad back and shoulders build, I've struggled to retain my figure. I still keep active, and love to swim, but I also love to eat and have an annoying habit of comfort eating.

A few weeks ago I was feeling really great about myself because I was training for a 5k charity Swimathon and so exercising daily, but when that was over life got busy again and it only took less than a fortnight for me to start feeling  a bit rubbish again.

I get particularly down when doing things like clothes shopping! I've never been very good at picking clothes as it is, but I find it even more difficult when I've perhaps put on a wee bit of weight, because even though it's not the case, I feel like everything looks rubbish on! I'm sure everyone can relate to that on some level because the reality is, no matter how 'perfect' your body is, you will always notice your own flaws.

So, on Tuesday I decided that enough was enough and I needed to get back into a regular routine, so I headed for a wee swim. The swim went ok, although I was struggling a wee bit which just further proved to me how quickly fitness slips away. But what really got to me was this: I went into the changing rooms to get changed, and entered a cubicle. Then I heard the centre manager come into the changing rooms (which are unisex). My membership card hadn't scanned properly on my way in, so he was asking a college if he knew where I'd gone and referred to me as "that big girl".

Now it's important to note that the manager didn't sound mean, just thoughtless. And I suppose it's possible that he just meant tall, although I'm no giant. I tried to ignore the comment but, typically, that adjective stuck in my head for the whole evening: "big".

Now, there is nothing wrong with being a big girl, a small girl, a tall or short girl or whatever. But to me (and once again I emphasise that this is personal to me!!), big is an insult, because I've never viewed myself as big. It hurt because it made me think that that's how others view me on a physical level, and because it was something that had already been bothering me for a while, I think it hit me harder than if I had been feeling at my best.

However, the comment also got me thinking, and gave me a new determination to work on my fitness and body image and make myself feel good in my own skin again. I've barely started (I haven't actually exercised since, but its only been 2 days and I plan to tonight!) but now that it's in the forefront of my mind I might be able to get back on track.

It also got me thinking about whether that made what that man said ok, the fact that I plan to use it positively I mean. He hurt my feelings, but if it wasn't for him I'd probably have carried on as I was. I'm not condoning nasty comments or describing people based purely on physical appearance,  but I wonder whether sometimes what we need is for someone to be a little bit harsh and truthful from time to time. It was hard considering this guy was a complete stranger, and not a friend or family member, and because it was said behind my back and not to my face. I'm not gonna pretend I didn't want to cry a bit that night, but in the end I hope his comment was constructive.

I'd be really interested to know your opinions on whether harsh can be a good thing, or if its always plain rude. Friends telling me I'm beautiful or that an outfit looks great on me really boosts my self confidence and sometimes I need that, but it doesn't make me address issues which harsher comments do, so in that moment, while instinctively I hated the man for unintentionally pointing out one of my greatest insecurities, he possibly said exactly what I needed to hear.

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