By Alexandra Cioppa
In 2013, Adam Levine was named sexiest man alive. And from a strictly objective point of view, sure, he’s a good looking guy. Personally, I’ve never found him all that attractive. Whenever he comes up in conversation (and surprisingly, this is quite often), I always say, ‘yeaaahhh I guess he’s cute but he’s just so skinny, I feel like I might crush him’.
This has always been a weird fear of mine. I could trace it back to this episode of CSI I once saw as a pre-teen where the woman accidentally rolled over and smothered her sex partner to death. I could also get into the fact that hitting puberty made me as a curvier and in a pivotal point, my self-consciousness stuck with me for life but let’s not get Freudian here. I’ve just always felt like I needed any guy I was seeing to be bigger or at least, as big as me.
Without getting weird with you, I love my boyfriend. He’s one of the best people I know and definitely my most favourite person (because I don’t personally know Beyonce). When I met my boyfriend, I thought he was cute, in like that dorky haircut-ish kind of way. He wasn’t my typical type. I mean not only did he not have a beard but he was slim. Like Adam Levine slim. On our first date, I couldn’t help but start to feel anxious and awkward as I slurped down pho.
On our first date, I looked at his slim hips, which made me jealous that my own were wide. I wondered if he could tell that when I ate, I got a double chin from the side. When we walked down the street, I wondered if people beside us were wondering what such a good looking, thin guy was doing with a big girl like me. But he was great. I really liked this guy.
I’ve always thought that if a guy liked me, then he liked my body. Before dating my boyfriend, I had never felt awkward with my own body when it came to sex. I knew what I looked like. I mean, I didn’t have the physique of Doutzen Kroes but what the eff did I care? But as his very thin thighs graze me, I still can’t help but picture that old timey black and white video of King Kong attacking a building when it comes to sex. When he puts his hand on my stomach, I think about my rolls of fat. When I change in front of him, I picture him immediately zooming in on the stretch marks and cellulite.
It’s hard to have sex when you have a million thoughts running through your head, half of them being: “I wonder what angle my boobs look best at”. It’s hard to be intimate with another person when all your energy is focused on keeping the angle of your thighs right so you don’t get cellulite. Figuring out how I can cover my chubby stomach in a strategic way with sheets is all consuming. Sometimes I don’t even want to have sex because I know I will a catch a glimpse of myself stripping down in a mirror. I wish I could let go, I wish I could get out of my head but it’s difficult and makes me retreat into myself.
After sex, cuddling is pretty much just anxiety inducing. Maybe it’s Disney’s fault but the fact that I am larger than my boyfriend makes me feel less feminine. I want him to be able to pick me up. I want to see my thin hands in his large, rough ones. I want to be the cute little spoon to his big one. Instead I feel like I’m the ladle against his teaspoon. This just isn’t how it’s supposed to be, I think. It’s not how it is.
But then: who says I am supposed to feel or be any way? I hate that I feel less than. I hate that I feel disconnected from my boyfriend and I hate that I don’t feel like myself. I know that a person’s weight has no bearing on who they are. I know that love isn’t only based on how someone looks. I know that my negative thoughts are only coming from me and I have become obsessed with them.
Aside my hindrance to my sex life, my thoughts make me feel generally like a crappy person. I’m a hypocrite that tells my friends about the dangers of fat shaming and then fat shames myself in my head. I judge myself based on other people. And being jealous of your boyfriend’s hips? It feels pretty pathetic.
After months of getting’ down and immediately cringing when my pants come off, I realized that I was exhausted of feeling this way. It’s incredibly tiring coming up with plans to hide your body and eventually you run out. I mean, I’ve already used the ‘I’m really cold in here, can I keep my hoodie on excuse’ way too many times.
Going from just “really, really liking being under the blankets” to being bare and brave all out in the open is difficult and scary. At the same time, never having good sex again is also scary. There came a point where I had to decide what was more important: feeling crappy or just trusting myself and a partner and owning my body. Knowing that your partner loves your body is powerful, it can make you feel great and sexy but knowing that you love your body is really what makes you feel sexy.Tags: Alexandra Cioppa, body image, body love, body positivity, couples, fat, fat girl food squad, fat shaming, relationships, self esteem, Sex, sex life