My Mother's Advice on Finding Your Own BeautyTuesday, April 19, 2016
When I was a teenager, I was 5 feet 7 inches tall, and about 103 pounds. I grew fast, but didn't fill out. I wouldn't fill out to a "healthy BMI" until my late 20s. My mother was the same way. Most of my siblings were or are, too. Thin and tall is in our genes. Despite the fact that it was in my genes, I couldn't feel more awkward about it. I hated the way I looked. My hip bones poked out, my rib cage poked out, my elbows and knees were knobby, my thighs had a huge gap between them, and my cheek and collar bones were very visible. I had horrible self-esteem because I felt like an alien or like I looked severely malnourished.
I wasn't the only one that noticed, either. Regularly, as I was leaving the restroom at high school, I was asked by a pair of girls if I had brushed my teeth after vomiting my lunch. I just ignored them. I never did that. Not once. Boys thought I was scary looking, I'd overheard people talking about how skinny I was as I walked down the hall. People regularly commented on my weight. As if I was always comfortable talking about my body whenever I was around people. Sometimes it would be something as simple as, "Hi, I'm Lana", and they'd respond with, "Whoa, do you eat?" It was always so irritating, and hurtful.