The wrong shape

The wrong shape

“You’ve lost so much weight!”
“Hah. Yes.”
“You look amazing!”
“Ah, thanks, that’s-“
“But stop now!”
“Yeah. Hah.”
“No, I’m serious. You have to stop losing weight!”

Such a narrow window of acceptable.

I’ve only just started my mental celebration at not having to be aware of my body, now that I’m back within that little sliver of the BMI chart that doesn’t draw comment (well, not ‘polite’ comment).

I’m pretty sure my weight has stabilised. But now, with at least a stone still between me and my lowest weight, you can see my ribs – and that means I’ve settled at the wrong point. Apparently.

I’m starting to think about how it appears in its clothes again, worrying if people are glancing at me because I look ‘wrong’.

I’m fine, of course. I am well within ‘healthy’ range for my age, height and gender. My collar bones have always jutted, and my top ribs stick out when I lose a tiny bit of chub. It’s how I’m built, along with too-broad shoulders and violin hips. That’s just the way it is.

I don’t care about body positivity. Body neutrality is far better, and keeps you saner. I’m trying to hold onto it. Maybe building some muscle will help – aiming for utility rather than (or as well as) aesthetics.

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