My thighs touch in a tight prom dress that is unflattering to my figure and makes me more self-conscious than any bikini ever could. The masses of muscle and fat press together, making me feel disgusting and ugly.
It is my birthday and I watch movies on the couch. It is sticky and hot. We lost appliances, the phone, and the internet from the lightning the day before. The rain keeps me inside. I sit in my hot sweat and my large thighs press firmly together. The cellulite sticks and the sweat drips.
I go for a walk with my mother through the trails near my home. My thighs shake and they start to itch from the jiggling. I tell her about my struggle to eat food without gluten and she sympathizes, knowing how hard it is to shop and cook for my new diet.
The weight from my thighs as well as the rest of my body starts to fade away. The scale moves from 163 to 151 and my thighs which barely squeezed into a size eight were now able to make it into a size six. I feel better eating the safe, gluten-free food now.
I pose in my short, lacy black dress with my thick red belt, standing next to my newest best friends. These friends who I would later consider as close as sisters smile with me. I feel these smaller but fatty thighs press together. I pose jokingly on a bungee chair trying my best to hide my thigh size. An unforgettable picture is snapped.
Kim Possible was cartoon version of a skinny supermodel with big orange hair. The cartoon had the most impossible body imaginable. Halloween was my chance to dress as my favorite heroine from my childhood days. I was a proud 141 and my thighs were drifting apart. They used to touch for about four inches of stretched out skin when I stood with my feet together, but now they were completely separate.
November, December, January, February, March:
My thighs never touch. They are very far from touching when I stand. I eat healthy foods and go to the gym. I have the thigh gap everyone wants so badly. I see 133 on the scale. Thirty pounds ago, a thigh gap was deemed unattainable.
A small part of the media glorifies the thigh gap. An even larger part labels it “unhealthy” and “unnatural”. They say that it is sexier to be curvy and to have thighs that touch because it shows healthy bone structure and it is what “real women” look like. I am five foot six. I proudly weigh 133 pounds. I wear a size six and a medium top. My feet are a size nine. I have a thigh gap. My body is quite average, maybe just a little smaller. I am by no means considered skinny, but I have this thigh gap. Am I not sexy, natural, or beautiful because I have something that others cannot attain? Am I not as desirable because I have something that some people say makes women look sickly and stick figured? Am I not a “real woman”? I am just as attractive as any girl with a bigger thigh gap or with no thigh gap.
I am just as beautiful as I was at 163 pounds. This new thigh gap does not define me. The thigh gap or lack thereof does not equate the worth of a person. Stop obsessing over this space between legs, because you are beautiful with or without one. The media needs to stop telling everyone they need a gap between their thighs. Everyone who finds this offensive should stop attacking this meaningless absence of leg mass. Size does not and never will equate beauty.