Narrative Essay: The 'Skiny' On Being Skinny

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The “Skinny” on Being Skinny
Sunlight seeps through my blinds, finding its way across my body and into my eyes as the gentle heat slowly becomes unbearable, forcing me awake. It is time for the grueling, hour-long beauty routine I submit myself to every morning but have grown accustomed to. I begin by brushing my annoyingly crooked teeth that are never as white as I want them to be and continue by scrubbing off the remnants of my makeup from the night before. With a swipe of concealer, I do my best to hide the dark bags that have found their home underneath my eyes. After painting on eyebrows, lips, and cheekbones that are not my own, I decide it is time to get dressed for the day. I spend no less than ten minutes scouring my closet for an …show more content…

I walk into class expecting an easy workout, relaxing music, and an easy-A. Instead, my teacher starts to explain what yoga is and what the class is going to be. “Yoga is not only exercise, but is a journey you must take to get in tune with your body and spirit,” he tells us. We begin class by learning to become mindful, focus exclusively on our breathing, and take a step back – away from our lives – to look at it on a grand scale. Looking at the “big-picture” I realize just how self-conscious I am about my body. I remember moments of my life hiding from the public, ashamed of my own appearance. I could see how unattainable my beauty standards have become, and how unhealthy I was being. By not eating, barely sleeping, and not being able to accept myself, I was destroying my body. Waves of emotion flood my mind and it shocks me to realize how poorly I had been treating myself. I started to see this class as both a blessing and a curse because I can now identify my insecurities and find a way to fix …show more content…

I always hear about it, but I never recognized I had a problem with it as well. I can slowly now recognize myself in other people. Not only can I see their struggles more clearly, but I can empathize with them as well. I must constantly accept that I have a problem with my self-esteem and anxiety because of the poor self-image about my size. As Kimya Dawson states in her lyrics to “Complicated,” “To make this world work, it takes all different kinds - We all have different tastes, different strengths, different minds… Think about what someone's going through that's making them be mean to you,” which resonated with me. I can relate to her story because I have just recently started understanding how everyone undoubtedly struggles with certain aspects of themselves just as much as I do. It helped me open my eyes to how complex everyone is and reminded me to see the true depth to everyone I

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