Mind Games and Constant Chatter
Image: Unsplash
During the early to mid 2000s, actress Jothika solidified herself as a household name through several memorable performances. Arguably among one of the most talented actresses of that time, she received praise for her work. But there was also something else that my friend and I were reminded of recently: the constant commentary about Jothika’s weight.
A friend recently recalled, “I remember my family calling Jothika fat. I guess it was because the other women we saw on screen were tall and extremely skinny, like Simran. This was also during the time Paris Hilton and Nicole Ricci were considered the ideal body time, super skinny, tall women. I never related to that, and when I as younger, it made me feel horrible.” Our conversation then shifted to how we were convinced to internalize what we saw and heard about different bodies, turning the chatter into harsh commentary about our bodies. Repairing the relationship with our bodies was and continues to be a challenging task.
The body types upheld by media, whether on the big screen or the tiny ones in our hands, change constantly. The 2000s’ media portrayal of ideal body types was sexist, racist, and entirely damaged how many young people and I saw themselves. I still catch myself speaking to myself with hatred directed at my body that has gotten me through so many hurdles. Three years ago, when my body forced me to slow down, the experience transformed my relationship with my body. After staring at empty hospital walls for the better part of a week, I decided to be kinder to my body.
For Vino C., 30, the comments about her body started early. “I put on some weight after my surgery when I was 9. I didn't think much of it until I hit puberty. My parents were organizing my samathiya veedu, and I needed a saree blouse, and the seamstress passed a comment about my weight for my age.” Speaking of unsolicited comments and advice about her body, Vino mentioned its impact on how she viewed her body. “I still deal with the insecurities and hate going to seamstress because of this because my body gets shamed. Even when I went back home 6 years ago, the seamstress told me that she can't stitch a blouse for the amount of fabric I gave and looked at my cousin and said that the material I gave was good for her because she was much slimmer than me.”
Comments are often translated into “advice” when people try to alter how to dress, whichusually means hiding your body. “Seamstresses would try to change the vision I had for my blouse,” Vino added. However, most of the time, the comments aren’t from strangers. They come from people who see you every day: your family. So I got up and left. Physically removing myself from from people who felt it was necessary to inform me of what they thought about my body was the best thing I did for myself. I cultivated a relationship with my body rooted in an appreciation for keeping me alive, far away from patriarchal and capitalist gazes that told me I had to exist for other people—by removing myself from people who perpetuated that gaze silenced the chatter, I allowed me to rebuild my relationship with my body on my own terms. Some days are better than others because it’s impossible to escape the noise entirely, whether they are external or coming from inside your own head. But the days I celebrate my body prompts me to continue being gentle with myself.
Despite the turbulence in my relationship with my body, I remind myself that every relationship takes time—especially the one we have with ourselves.
