When I was 14, I broke up with my body. I told her that she was no longer worth my time, and that she and I were just in different places in our lives. She didn’t take it very well at first. She called me constantly, begging me to feed her with love and support like the good ol’ days. I thought that I was doing the best thing for both of us by listening to my friends when they said “you don’t need all that extra space,”that I was doing myself a service. But it wasn’t just my friends that had negative things to say about my relationship with my body. Seventeen magazine, Vogue, Elle, America’s Next Top Model, and so many other forms of media seemed to have somehow tapped into my personal relationship with her. I constantly compared my relationship with my body to others’. Everyone around me seemed to be so happy with their bodies, and here I was trying to convince myself that I was happy even when they told me that I wasn’t due to their standards. What I had grasped from the various messages around me was that if my body wasn’t thin and white with easily-tamed hair, then I was in a very unhealthy relationship and I needed to change it immediately. So after 14 years of a well-loved partnership, I finally did what everyone wanted me to do: I cut ties with my so-called dead-weight of a body. The media and people that didn’t matter around me gave me the skewed idealism to finally say: “You know what body? You’re worthless! You’re a waste of space! You no longer make me feel like I am supposed to feel.”
From then on, I was on my way to picking up a relationship with someone that wasn’t me. I was FINALLY on the path to becoming a skinny white girl with perfect hair and teeth. The supposed gates of hell, also known as my life, were finally closing, and the bridge to heavenly white-washed and fat-shaming victory was within my sights.
After nearly Atkinsing myself to death, frying my hair to oblivion by attempting to straighten it every day, and wearing clothes I knew didn’t really fit my style, I soon realized that I had made a terrible mistake.
I tried to call my body, but she sent me straight to voicemail. She was trying to teach me a lesson on giving up to be someone else. She was trying to teach me that life isn’t easy, and that I should never have to compromise myself to make others happy. She was right. I soon realized that it was the people that I surrounded myself with that had an issue with me and my body. That’s when I understood that the only opinion of myself that I needed was my own.
My body and I now are in a very loving relationship. It took about 10 years to mend it, but I am positive that she and I are now on permanently good terms.
Adriana and her body are now happily married and living in Kansas City, MO with their 2 dogs.