It's Time We Wore our Spectacles: A Story on Body Positivity

Disclaimer: This is a fictional story.

Trigger Warning: Contains remarks related to body-shaming.

One last look in the mirror by the front door. As I swept my eyes all over myself; top to bottom, front to back, I thought: Is it too much? It’s been more than a year now that I dressed up for a social occasion. It’s the seventh outfIt that I have tried and I am still second-guessing this look! It looks a bit fit. Can anyone tell I gained weight during the lockdown? Maybe I should wear something a little loose; perhaps something with sleeves? Wait! The dupatta will solve this problem. Yes, it’ll hide my breasts and arms at the same time. And if I keep my hair open, people will probably notice my body less and me more. Yes, this seems good enough.

I was feeling excited and nervous at the same time. Meeting so many relatives after almost a year - especially my aunt - did feel a little overwhelming. This pandemic has been hard on everyone, I am sure. I should just focus on having fun today.

I rushed out the door as I didn't want to run late and make an entrance at the party, having all eyes on me. On my way there, I stopped to pick up Riya. My cousin. She is the most fashionable one in our family. I am curious to know what she thinks of my outfit. She slid into the car seat, and instantly started giving me the latest gossip about her workplace. Suddenly she stopped short when she noticed my attire, “Damn Di! Your outfit looks too good. But you know what? You should have left those glasses behind. I find them so odd for this beautiful dupatta!” she frowned, and then she smoothly switched over to her office gossip...

Behind the steering, I scowled. Perhaps I could have worn my contact lenses. How could I have left them behind for such an event? Maybe I should head back and get them. I don't want to be a laughing riot for others at the gathering! Everyone would whisper amongst themselves about how ugly I look with the glasses on or how fat I have gotten over this year.

And then, I got indignant. Do people not have anything better to do in their lives other than comment on my life? You know what, I will have a quick meeting with everyone and leave the place in like 15 minutes maximum.

We reached sooner than I was ready for. We stepped out of the car, and almost unconsciously, I changed my dupatta draping. I felt nervous as I stepped into my aunt's house. It was glittering with lights and soaring loud party music was coming from inside the large family house.

I saw my aunty walk towards us, most likely to welcome us - basic host etiquette. She grabbed my cousin with a hug, “You look lovely, Riya!” Then she turned towards me. I looked up at her, expecting something cold so I could give her a comeback line. She gave me half a hug, looked at me from top to bottom, and said, “Honey, did you eat the entire house in the lockdown?” and chuckled at her own joke.

I sighed. My motivation had dropped. Why would someone welcome people home with such words? Am I looking that bad? How about asking “How are you doing?” instead? Everyone is so superficial! No one cares about what I am doing, or how well I scored this semester. It's always about “Now you should score well with getting thin as well.” Ugh. Maybe I am overthinking.

To sound dismissive I just replied, “Needed something to do while at home, aunty. So I started eating the empty house, haha.” We both faked a laugh and moved into the hall as if my existence in this world was only to occupy space physically and I had nothing else to contribute. 

I was already regretting showing up. As I walked across the house, I avoided standing longer with anyone so I wouldn’t get pulled into unwanted conversations. When I went and stood by a few of my cousins, my two youngest cousins - Jay and Sid - were telling their oh-so-bold stories of guts and glory from school. I was a silent listener to their humorous stories of being the pranksters of their batch.

After a while, Riya walked in from the opposite direction and abruptly took me by the hand. I was still laughing, and just beginning to enjoy my visit, when I left behind the fun and followed her into the bathroom. She wanted to give herself a lipstick touch-up.

While looking at herself in the mirror, and gently ruffling through her dark brown hair, Riya said, “You know Di, I am so conscious of my hair,” she mused aloud. “Everyone keeps touching my curls to check if they are soft or not, making jokes on ‘em like - a bee could get lost and die in it…” She rolled her eyes.

She turned to me curious, “Do you think I should get them straightened? Remember I got them done once and everyone loved it?” She paused and stood for a moment relishing her past looks. I did think she looked quite pretty then.

She snapped out of it, “But that's a costly affair though. And anyway I love this curly look too. But… I feel like an outsider when our own family finds it weird for me to have such kinky curls when no one else does…” Riya continued ranting about our family. 

She looks great just the way she is, and I love her gorgeous curls. Why can't she see that? I wondered to myself.

Why do we seek validation from others on how we want to look and live? I hate how our own family and friends have contributed to our insecurities that we stop seeing our unique beauty whilst standing in front of the mirror.

“Riya, you look beautiful, I love your curls. Frankly, I find them hot! You should embrace them. People pay crazy to get their hair to look like…” But Riya cut me off saying, “You don’t know ya, Di. They don't either. Everyone pokes fun. Chuck it! I want hair like yours - silky, soft, and long.”

She grinned, “Please let me do your hair, it's all over the place. I know some cool hairstyles.” She was chirpy again and took out her extra set of hairpins & clips. When she was done with my hair, I feebly smiled at her work in the mirror, but still something didn’t feel right.

We went out and joined the others, with her bouncing her curls without a care in the world, and me having a new hairstyle and feeling all the more insecure about the way I looked. I didn’t want more attention on me. Though I admired how chill she was. 

The younger cousins were still exchanging their cool stories. I overheard Jay speaking to Sid about a big black spot on his forearm and how he didn’t like the school outfit during summers because everyone could see it. This got me concerned. These kids have been letting such small things take over them from such a young age. No wonder that has made way for them to feel invisibly under-confident.

Sid didn't say anything to correct him. Instead, he said, “Bro, your girlfriend saw this or not? What if she runs away?” and he burst out laughing while the others guffawed along. I looked at Jay’s face shrinking, as he tried to keep a firm, I-don’t-care look. But I couldn't take it anymore. This needed to stop.

I pulled Sid aside by his sleeve and said, “That was not okay, Sid. That's just a body mark. Many people have it. It is normal. You should help him see that he is beyond his mark. He has a personality that also makes him who he is. Doesn't matter if his partner or his friends get it or not. He is better off without such company in life.”

Sid smirked and said, “Just like how you are better off alone without a boyfriend because no one wants to have a fat girlfriend?” Everyone started laughing even more.

Suddenly, I felt vulnerable and exposed to my own insecurity. “Di… It’s okay…” Riya gently held my right arm, but I pulled away. The group was stilled with silent and awkward faces. I didn't feel the need to say anything anymore.

I was angry, disgusted, and deeply saddened at the same time. Hot tears welled up in my eyes. But I couldn’t let anyone see them. Can we not live without bringing each other down? What will it take to find a way to be kind to anyone, and accept them irrespective of whatever and however they are made of? When will we be able to look beyond physicalities?

Feeling so burned down emotionally, I walked towards the front door and quickly grabbed my bag from the shelf. As I walked out the door, I heard Riya call out behind me, “Di! Where are you going?”

As I plopped myself behind the steering wheel, tears started to force their way out. I angrily took my glasses off and threw them onto the passenger seat. I fiercely wiped my face and heaved a loud sigh. The events of the day weren't as I had expected; in fact, they were strangely better in some way. I spoke up - for myself, and for someone else.

Why does every conversation boil down to how ‘imperfect’ my body is or what I need to do to make it ‘better’? How can anybody be so shallow about my size, or the fact that I need glasses, or that I can have a hairdo that I would like to keep? Some conversations should go beyond that.

Today should not have been so surprising to me. But sometimes I peek through that little creek of a window in the hopes that someday I would be in a world where people would simply understand what it is for one to just be themselves - where being kind would be one of the organs of the human body.

As I drove on, a gentle breeze hit my face and my tears started to dry out. The street lights were flickering, and it was so dark, I could barely see the road. But it was when I squinted a lot more that I realised - I didn’t have my glasses on!! I started looking for them with one hand on the wheel and the other groping about on the passenger seat. But before I could regain my focus, I had missed a stop sign and almost ran someone over.

My heart stopped. I quickly stopped to check who it was, and I nervously strained my eyes to see what had happened. A very tall guy standing in front of my car was already yelling at me, “Can’t you drive properly? What if I had died?”

On hearing someone yell at me, I instinctively yelled back, “You are as tall as a giraffe! Didn't you see the car headlights?”

“Excuse me? What does my height have to do with my eyesight? Can’t you be more responsible on the road…?”

But I stopped at his question. Yes, it wasn’t related. I felt mildly embarrassed. Before I could apologise, he said, “Hey, Trisha… It’s you? Oh my god. How are you? Long time…”

Without my glasses, I was hardly able to recognise my childhood neighbour & best friend, especially after so many years.  We greeted each other and I felt that familiar joy once again. We started talking about our old times; it was such fun as we continued on in the car. Then, I dropped him home.

As I drove back home, I felt a sting of self-correction. How could I have been so mean while I had been complaining and getting upset with others for treating me differently? I should have known better. I had mindlessly made an unkind statement on someone’s appearance too.

It saddens me to comprehend how deeply we are all conditioned that we have forgotten to be supportive of one another. No wonder that we continue to be people that comment on & ridicule one another while harbouring our own insecurities within.

Nevertheless, is it not my choice & responsibility to work on my insecurities and how I treat others? Am I not responsible for letting others get the better of me? Isn’t it sensible to first be able to be kind & accepting of me before I could expect the others to do that?

Tonight was a lesson for me. As a community, we should indeed unlearn a lot more than we can untangle, even with the basics of being humane. And if we wanted to be kinder as a society, we needed to unlearn as a society.

But I learnt something greater than that: Intentional unlearning & kindness - it starts with me.