This is an unusual subject for me. But whenever inspiration comes running, I embrace it like an average man would want to hug a 34D-endowed woman.
But then, that is exactly the issue. We segment and discriminate against the female folks based on their bodily features. We do not hesitate to taunt them for what, at times, they may have little or no power over.
“I don’t like your name“. A girl I had never seen and will never see said this to me. I was in SS3 in a boys’ only school. Our self esteem was largely dependent on how much attention we got from girls. But here I was, in Abuja, far away from home, representing my school and State in a national conference, and a girl just crushed the last piece of coldstone-esteem I took pride in.
I have tried to understand the concept of body shaming of women from my perspective. Anytime I don a cloth that is not as smart on me as I want, or I am not comfortable in it, my confidence level wanes by some inches. For the rest of that day, I will be too self conscious to the extent that I can keep looking into the mirror to give myself some assurance: “it’s not that bad“. A five-minute intermittent confidence-boosting assurance. Yet, unlike yeast, the confidence hardly rises. It’s worse when I have to speak to an attractive woman.
However, the advantage I have is that after looking into the mirror first time, I can switch clothes. Or if I change my mind after leaving my house, I can return and wear another one. Or in some instances, if it’s a work shirt, I can easily put on a jacket and not remove it till the end of the day.
But really, what is the fate of a beautiful but insecure plump lady whose confidence has been bashed multiple times by people who believe and do not refrain from offering unsolicited advice that a beautiful woman must have an hour glass shape, flat tummy, tiny waist, shapely derriere and round breast?
How does such a woman suck the fat from her Cup-DD boobs in months, or weeks or a day like I would change my cloth before leaving my house? Or how would a petite lady whose boobs do not even need a bra for support embiggen same after being taunted for having breast as small as a mustard seed?
When the girl told me she didn’t like my name, it was with the hotel phone. My room and school mate who made some random calls had called her room. In the course of their conversation, he told her my name is Sunday. The girl did not hesitate to offer her unsought opinion. I never saw her. Never will I see her. But she made me become conscious of telling people my first name thenceforth.
In dealing with the confidence-bashing seed the lady unknowingly sowed, rather than tell people my name is Oluwaseun or Ola or the others, I had to deliberately tell new people I meet that my name is Sunday without giving it a second thought. It was easy dealing with since then.
I have nomenclature options. Does a woman on the fat side have same? I can easily change my cloth. Can a woman switch her tummy?
Definitely, you are not compelled to like everybody. But you are also not compelled to offer your debasing opinion. If you do not like some features in a woman, except she asks for it or you are closely knitted, keep your words to yourself.
Do not be the reason a woman will embark on a neck-breaking voyage of conformity. No one defines the ideal. In fact, the ideal is subject to subjectivity.