A Taste Of Their Own Medicine
I would like the powers that be,
who decide what “fashion” is,
to know how it feels to be told,
every day of your life,
that every part of your body is wrong.
I would like them to know how it feels to be told that their feet are too wide and too short at the same time.
That their torsos are too short
That their shoulders are too broad
Their legs too short, thighs too thick, calves too wide
That their waist is too small but their tummy too big
That their boobs are too big, their genitals too prominent, their figure all wrong.
I would like them to know how it feels to be told that it’s their fault that they don’t fit into clothing that in reality is made to fit no-one but shop mannequins.
To be told that you can’t be fat and short at the same time
That their real, human body doesn’t matter but photoshopped bodies do
And that all of this is their fault, because they’re too poor, too fat, too lazy, when the real reason is that “fashion” does not cater to human bodies.
By Autumn Stanislawski
Even with all the negative comments about my body from boys, society, myself, my dad, the one that sticks the most came from my petite “at your age I was a size 5” mom.
I was goofing off with my bestie in the giant shoe store, trying on different kinds of heels and wobbling around like newborn foals, when my mom spotted us and said,“Honey, you can’t wear stilettos. With your thick ankles, you’d look like a rhino walking on toothpicks.”
20 years later, and I still only buy chunky heels.
Thank you! I recently had a Dr(female) tell me I may not be a candidate for reconstructive surgery because my BMI was xx & then whispered hand to mouth your obese, duh I see my body every day. I felt like she was body shaming me, I fired her & immediately asked my PA for a new referral.
Your poem touched my soul.