#CelebrateingtheRainbow at the workplace – share your stories of Pride!
Why do we feel the need to judge women who are larger than we think 'normal' should be? It's time we became more accepting of people as they are.
Why do we feel the need to judge women who are larger than we think ‘normal’ should be? It’s time we became more accepting of people as they are.
Convex (definition): Curving out, extending outward
If I were to succinctly, briefly, compartmentalise my life, I would do it thus, in one word: convex.
You know how folks say, “This is the story of my life”…well…this sorta is…the story of my life. Here’s how…
So you know how when you’re a pudgy, fold-ridden, cherubic toddler, the world gushes at you? Makes appropriate cooing sounds, quickly followed by inappropriate pinching, till the same fleshy folds turn pink involuntarily? Yes, well, not so much the same can be expected as you advance in years and yet, magically, retain the same exterior. No sir! The cooing and aww- ing give way to pitiful ‘Tch tch’; the complimentary gazes make way for a healthy mix of pity and disgust. And the cherry on the sundae, the verbal praise turns to fat shaming. Sad, but true.
My perspective? Let’s see…
Will I succumb to societal pressure and blame twiggiesque models and the glossies they appear in? For the reaction folks have to us ‘plus sized’ people? Or wilI I blame it on my genes (those secret fatty deposits blueprinted in my DNA)? Will I consider awarding blame to a medical condition? Or to a penchant for fast foods? Or will I blame it on a deeper psychological void that I’m supposedly filling with food?
The question that begs answering is…why do I feel the need to justify my looks to anyone? Well, probably because like many of you out there, I feel judged. Sad, but true.
Who’s to hold judgement over me? You? The auntie next door, the nosy neighbour on the floor below? The creepy salesman who ignores me in lieu of the slender damsel, which in retrospect is just as well? The cashier at the supermarket who ignores the auntie in line before the teenager, and proceeds to bag the pretty slender teenager’s groceries before hers ?
Or will the dubious honour to be judgemental fall upon the ubiquitous, snooty waiter, with looks so judgemental, it stops you from ordering those delicious hors d’oeuvres, just so you don’t appear gluttonous? Maybe the people you allow to hold judgement over you are the ladies who you lunch with, once a month, who have no idea who you really are?
The list, my friends, is endless and shall remain so. Folks will judge. It’s what they do, unwittingly. While one might not be in a position to change that, what we can change is our perspective…our perspective about ourselves. How? For starters, we can start by not judging ourselves, by not viewing ourselves through a lens that’s … ‘Convex’.
But the tide is turning, albeit slowly. A not so silent revolution of sorts has been sweeping Japan. The kind that’s forced the world to sit up and take notice, with The Marshmallow Girls.
Before you drive yourself into a frenzy guessing what these are, here’s an explanation that’s not so mystifying. The term Marshmallow Girls is being used in Japan, to refer to plus sized women. So huge (pun unintended) is the phenomenon that the Marshmallow Girls have their own magazine, fashion and even a rock group. Possibly this insane success and acceptance of the plus sized Japanese woman is an indicator of the conscious and deliberate rejection of the western ideal of the perfect woman. Case in point, the highly controversial and much talked about Victorias Secret’s ‘the perfect body campaign’. It might be a good idea to see healthy, regular girls on a centre spread that don’t make our teenagers rush into developing body issues at an early age. I’m sure all those with impressionable teens in their lives will agree.
So the next time you feel the need to judge someone exclusively on the basis of their body type…change your lens…change your perspective.
Love your body placard via Shutterstock
Neha is a Professor of Mass Communication. An erstwhile Copywriter and Corporate communications specialist, she is an an avid reader, editor of all that she reads, part time writer, full time friend and gym junkie. read more...
Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, individual posts do not necessarily represent the platform's views and opinions at all times.
Stay updated with our Weekly Newsletter or Daily Summary - or both!
Can you believe this bloke compelled me to wear only saris - full time at home- till the eighth month of my pregnancy?! The excessive heat coupled with humidity made my life miserable.
Recently when I browsed an interesting post by a fellow author on this very forum I had a sense of déjà vu. She describes the absolutely unnecessary hullabaloo over ladies donning nighties and /or dupatta –less suits.
I wish to narrate how I was in dire straits so far wearing a ‘nightie’ was concerned.
I lived in my ultra orthodox sasural under constant surveillance of two moral guardians (read Taliban) in the shape of the husband’s mom and dad. The mom was unschooled and dim-witted while the dad was a medical practitioner. But he out-Heroded the Herod in orthodoxy.
My supervisor introduced me as a valuable member of the team, emphasizing my skills and contributions rather than focusing on my gender identity. This simple act set the tone for my experience in the workplace.
As a transwoman navigating the corporate world, I had encountered my fair share of discrimination and challenges. Transitioning without the support of my parents and having limited friendships in my personal life made the journey difficult and lonely. However, when I stepped into the office, something remarkable happened, I left behind the stress and negativity, embracing a space where I could truly be myself.
Joining the marketing team as a graphic designer, I was initially apprehensive about how my colleagues would react to my gender identity. But to my surprise, the atmosphere was welcoming and respectful from day one. My supervisor, Sarah, introduced me as a valuable member of the team, emphasizing my skills and contributions rather than focusing on my gender identity. This simple act set the tone for my experience in the workplace.
As I settled into my role, I discovered that my colleagues went out of their way to make me feel comfortable and included. They consistently used my correct name and pronouns, creating an environment where I could be authentically me. Being an introvert, making friends wasn’t always easy for me, but within this workplace, I found a supportive community that embraced me for who I truly am. The workplace became a haven where I could escape the stresses of my personal life and focus on my professional growth.
Please enter your email address