It started with my mom
She said no, it’s different – she only hates it on herself, she doesn’t even notice it on me.
It started with my mom – I’d watch her get ready in the bathroom, stand on the tub to get a better look in the mirror and chastise her thighs. She’d say she hated her cellulite and that she didn’t use to look like that when she was younger. I’d look down at my thighs and see my cellulite and get sad because I knew I’d never get to at least look back at old photos and admire my youth the way she did. I’ve always had cellulite and I’ll always hate it. My mom didn’t know that when she talked about hating her body she was telling me she hated my body too. My body that looked just like hers. It probably started with her mom too.
It continued with my youth pastor – he got on stage one night and announced that they’d be handing out 3XL t-shirts to all the girls who were wearing “short shorts.” The skinny 12 year old girls were tempting the boys sexually. The fat 12 year old girls shouldn’t be showing their legs because (and this is a direct quote) we looked like we “got beat with a bag of nickels”. He didn’t know when he talked about hating my body he was talking about hating his future 12 year old daughter’s chubby body too. I hope when he sees her wearing shorts he doesn’t see her cellulite, just his 12 year old daughter.
It ended with my best friend – she was going through a rough time and had gained some weight. While still remaining far smaller than me, she decided to confide in me how disgusting she felt. She told me she looked in the mirror and hated what she saw. This was the first time in her life she noticed she had cellulite. I told her she was being mean, that I’ve had cellulite my whole life, and that by calling herself disgusting she was calling me disgusting. She said no, it’s different – she only hates it on herself, she doesn’t even notice it on me. We both know this isn’t true. She sees it on me. She sees it on me, but she doesn’t care. When she sees me she sees cellulite, but she also sees my blue eyes – she always compliments them. She sees my long hair and my big smile. She sees my ass and swears she wishes she had it – cellulite and all. She sees my laugh and my tears and my hopes and dreams. She sees my cellulite but is distracted by everything else that I am. She loves me wholly.
I often lay on my back and hold my legs straight up in the air. From that angle, my legs are perfect – I have no cellulite. I shared this with my mom and she told me she used to do that when she was younger all the time too. I hope my daughter never does that.