Lack of a Role Model

Reading through that old post I wrote and republished has me thinking about delving deeper into why my choice of teenage magazine material truly affected me.

Sure there were the ultra-thin, airbrushed girls in the most up-to-date fashions with the beautifully applied make-up and meticulously placed hair who looked great even in the most awkward looking positions. And of course there were the chisel ab-ed hunks with their shirts off and oiled torso's looking like modern Greek Adonis' who I'd secretly think were gorgeous but would flick the page nonchalantly so no one would dare say "as if you'd ever be with someone that hot!"
Not to mention the fashion and The Best places to buy the Hottest outfits were all only up to a size 16. And on the rare occasion the magazines decided to briefly mention "Plus Size" they focussed solely on size 16's as if there couldn't possibly be a bigger size than that. In the end I would cry and vow to stop eating because this time it just had to work.

Thus I banned myself from reading magazine's or even looking at the pretty pictures. Banned for life, bitch. 


But what was really making me so upset wasn't that everyone else appeared so happy and thin and beautiful and in love -- because all those gorgeous women were inevitably always paired with those oiled Adonis' -- but the mere fact that I wasn't good enough. I felt completely alone because I didn't know anyone my age that was also my size. I didn't have the internet back then so I didn't have access to online forums or chat rooms or websites where I wasn't the only fatty.

All my friends would rave about how wonderful the new issue of Girlfriend was and giggle about the seemingly sexy tales in Cosmo -- we never seemed to see the Cosmo sex lift-out thingy issues -- or comparing which shops they got nearly matching items from, while I sat in the corner nodding and smiling for all I was worth. My size and even my shape were not accommodated. I had no "role model" to look up to, no one that was a real shape or a real size that wasn't made smaller by the numerous tricks one can perform in Photoshop. In fact across the board of famous females there was not one I could identify with in regards to body image. I was standing alone on the precipice of an ever increasing gap between me and everyone else.

Of course this might not sound like much to you, to any of you, but for me it was lonely. That feeling of "standing in a room full of people but you're totally alone" summed up my life exactly. I had friends, a lot of them in fact and I was always there to listen when anyone needed to talk. There were even times I attempted to hide from people because they seemed to always want to talk with me! I did carve myself a niche and one that suited me extremely well for my high school years in Canberra. But I did that of my own volition and out of a desperate need of survival. I had to be that person because I saw early on that was the only person they (the student body) would accept and, maybe, respect.

Indeed I did survive without a role model and without models in magazines, tv stars or musical divas who looked anything like me. However it bloody well hurt to feel so alone, feeling like a freak and an abomination. In many ways -- and not solely because of this -- I had to grow up faster than my peers. I had to perceive things they did not have to and I had to be mindful of my place lest I stepped out of line. It was appropriate for me to be ashamed of myself and to apologise for my size. It was expected that I would be humble and sweet, occasionally depressed because I was fat but never, never, allowed to talk about it. If I did express joy or was genuinely happy someone would always come along and make sure my knees were cut out from under me. The message was clear: follow our rules or don't belong with us.

The need for a role model of achievable proportions is huge. At the time I didn't understand this simple concept and I couldn't understand why I was beginning to resent everything that symbolised "thin", "healthy", "perfect" and "beautiful". My resentment boiled over into silent rebellion and the choice to rebel against school policy and wear all black. I could go on about how this was some symbolic form of the death of my voice, the oppression, conformity etc but the truth was I felt safer wearing black. I was less noticeable and I looked smaller. Apparently even my teachers agreed because I was never asked to revert back to colour code (blue and white) like the rest of the kids were. Again, I was completely alone.

There is a real need for people of all sizes and shapes to be seen in positive body image projects. Whether these projects are workshops or seminars abolishing fat-phobia or seeing real people on the big screen to seeing real people in a band live on stage or just watching that beautiful fat lady walk down the street confidently without one nasty comment muttered. It's not just the teenagers of this world who want to see famous people who look like them in the public eye! It's about time real changes were made in this overly biased world.