Big Stomach, Small Body

In the past 6 months, I have been seriously underestimated. On three separate occasions, the same sequence of events has occurred. And each time to the amazement of those who have underestimated me I have proven them wrong. 

The first time, I went to The Cheesecake Factory with my parents. The second time, I was with my parents again at Tucker’s Place in Soulard. And the third, I went with some friends to The Fountain on Locust.  

Each time I ordered something different, something big like 1) the Burrito Grande, 2) an 20 oz. Porterhouse steak with a baked potato aaand a salad that came out first, 3) and pesto chicken on some sort of bread, a side salad and a giant ice cream sundae called the Bearcat, respectively.

In other words…something that apparently the male waiters did not think I would ever in a million years be able to finish. 

So what did they do?

They listen to my order with a smirk on their face. They serve me my food and say, “Good luck!” as if they don’t believe I’ll actually eat the amount of food put in front of me. One guy even added a little something extra to his “kind wishes” and said, “I can’t wait to see this.”

I look to my Dad who knows what I am capable of and also has a grin of his own because on these occasions I have eaten more than him.  And each time I reply, “Well then, watch this.”

And I proceed to eat every last bite of food on my plate and still have room for dessert.

Note to male waiters: do not underestimate the power of my stomach to hold food. I may be smaller than you; I may look like a girl who would order a salad and only eat half of it before announcing “I’m so full.” But if you think these things based on my physique, you will be wrong. I will order something large from the menu if I am hungry; I wouldn’t order something that big just to waste it. I will eat it all. And you, sir, will feel simultaneously like an ass and impressed. 

Oh yes and the guy who said he couldn't wait to see this and wished me luck came back to clear my empty plate from the table and said, "I’m impressed, I didn’t think you could do it. I like a girl who can eat.”

Well, sir, then I’m your kind of girl.

Nakey Time

It has come to my attention over the past few years, especially after having moved out of my parents’ house and away to school, that some people just aren’t comfortable with their own body, especially when that body is naked.

I was raised in such a way that taught me that being naked was a natural thing – not something to be embarrassed about. You’re born naked, people, so why be embarrassed of being naked later in life? Everyone has the same parts as you (given their respective sex, still….everyone has a butt). 

Anyway, I have always been comfortable in my own skin. In fact, even as a child I was extremely confident in the way I looked, at ease with my body and enjoyed being free from the constraints of clothes. 

Perhaps, I was an eccentric child. Indeed, I was. That’s a fact. My fashion choices were unique, if questionable, but no one could accuse me of not having my own style or personality. 

As time passed and I grew older, my confidence stayed with me. I don’t recall a time when I felt awkward or as if my body was out of my control. There were no gangly or disproportioned limbs. 

The only time I ever felt out of sorts was when I hit a growth spurt and my feet grew a few sizes over a short period and I tripped a little bit more than usual but even that only lasted a few months, nothing too traumatic. Then there was the time when I realized that my boobs were coming in – helloooooo puberty – and I asked my sister what was happening….She told me I had cancer (her only big sister laugh at my expense). Thanks, Tay. 

But even those few frenzied, panicked moments were just that – moments. I didn’t have cancer and my boobs are perfectly fine. 

So beside these two occasions and the few fleeting insecurities I’ve entertained over the years, I like my body. It’s a good body. It’s mine. I’m comfortable with it.

Yet as time passed and I grew older, I discovered that not everyone felt the same. I accepted this fact quickly as I could see that some people always felt too chubby, too skinny, too short, too tall, too freckly or too pale. The theme = too something. It made sense, at least.

Then I hit high school and gym class came. Locker rooms. Changing in front of 20 other girls. Some girls were shy. I get it. Not everyone wants to change in front of a girl or a bunch of girls who they think have a better body or will judge them (the latter does happen, it seems inevitable with any more than one girl in a room). 

High school is over (huge thanks to God for letting it only last four years) and I move away to school my sophomore year.  Now, it wasn’t until my junior year that I realized something else: some people just are not comfortable with being naked. Ever. Even in the shower. By themselves. 

Me: WHAT?! Not even in the shower or by yourself in your room?! 

Friend: I’d wear a bathing suit in the shower if I could.

It’s true. Apparently, not everyone was raised the way I was or was born with the natural inclination for nudity that I was. Instead, they are like Rachel, who in the following clip had never realized how liberating it was to – Just. Be. Naked. – even by herself. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Aqn_lpsrNEA&feature=related

As you have probably gathered, I don’t nor have I ever had this problem with nudity. It’s true.

 I have always been the one who would change in the car before any athletic practice when there wasn’t time to run all over ducking for cover; the one who stripped her shirt off after soccer games to leave in only a sports bra; the one who walks around the house in little to no clothes; the one who would change in front of all her friends without being shy and turning around in a motion that says, “if I can’t see you, you can’t see me.” False. Everyone can still see you  and you just look like a giant goober for thinking turning your back makes you any less naked. 

My friends freshman year of high school voted in a poll while talking amongst ourselves about where we really saw each other in ten years after completing our prophecies in school that week that I would be the “most likely to become a nudist”. Thanks guys. 

Therefore, it was a little difficult for me to understand why being naked while alone or in the shower would be a problem for anyone. I mean, if you can’t be naked alone, where can you? What happens when your friend’s brother walks in on you changing when you sleep over? What happens when you get married or have sex for the first time…or any time after that?

 It seems to me that nudity is normal. It’s natural. It’s how we were born and were intended to be naked according to Genesis, that is, before Adam and Eve just totally messed that one up. 

But before you stop reading, thinking that I’m some nudist freak. What I’m really attempting to get you to grapple with is that – it’s not about being naked. 

It’s about being comfortable with yourself, with how you look, with being even slightly exposed for the world to see because the power of your mind, your attitude and your feelings toward yourself and your body and your self-concept are all intricately intertwined. 

So when your thoughts sound something like, “I’m ugly. I’m too fat. I’m too freckly. I’m too this or too that. I hate my body. I hate the way I look. Why can’t I be/look more like (your envy’s name here)?” then your body will reflect those things and so will the mirror, and the scale, and other people’s perception of you.

But when your thoughts are more like this: “I’m attractive. I like my body. My body is beautiful in its own unique way and I like that it isn’t shaped exactly like the next person. I feel pretty/hot/handsome/attractive today” then your body will reflect those things and so will the mirror, and the scale, and other people’s perception of you. 

There is very little that is more attractive than a confident person. The better you feel about yourself, the more attractive you become to yourself and those around you. 

This is one reason I don’t have a problem changing in front of people or being naked. I like my body. It’s mine. I take care of it the best I can. And if you don’t like it, well, that sounds like a personal problem to me.

So be happy with your body. Be comfortable being naked, even if it’s only in the shower or changing in your room by yourself. Or go crazy like Rachel; embrace your newfound liberation by singing into your hairbrush naked in the comfort of your own home.

I know I do because for this girl – alone time = nakey time.