My Lifelong Struggle with Being “Skinny” and How I Overcame It
Join me on a raw, personal journey about making peace with my unique physique
Welcome to another edition of Beyond Self Improvement! If you missed it, here’s last week’s article: The One Reason to Do Anything.
Today’s essay will explore how I struggled with body shame and learned to accept and embrace my body as it is.
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Dear Friend,
Growing up, I always felt out of place in my skin.
As a child and into my 20s, I was tall and thin, a classic ectomorph with difficulty putting on weight, especially muscle. The term "skinny fat" resonated.
The only time I saw anything close to six-pack abs was in a dressing room mirror under perfect lighting after months of intense boot camp-style exercise taught by an ex-Marine that left me nauseous after every class.
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On the first day of high school, I stood six feet tall (1.83 meters) and weighed just 118 pounds (53.5 kilograms).
My oversized ‘80s glasses swallowed my face and constantly slid down my narrow nose. I was bullied from grade school through college, not including regularly being told I was skinny into my 30s.
One of the most humiliating moments was when a store clerk blurted out in exasperation after trying to find pants that fit me, “You’re so skinny!” I waited for my mom to say something, to stand up for me, but she stayed quiet.
Being “skinny” was particularly difficult because my family valued image and appearance, as I wrote about recently.
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College was a turning point.
I discovered the all-you-can-eat buffet and began gorging myself at every meal. I was a slow eater, and my friend once lost patience. “Oh, come on!” he shouted after I returned for a third serving.
My goal was to hide the bones that protruded from my elbows.
By the end of the year, I had gained 20 pounds, bringing my weight up to 138 pounds (62.6 kilograms). While many dread the "freshman 20," it felt like nirvana. However, this weight gain wasn’t healthy, much of it accumulating around my belly. But I was too enamored with my progress to notice.
I remember proudly taking off my shirt in the backyard, only for my mom to look at my belly and exclaim, “You’re fat!”
No one had ever accused me of being fat, so it was a compliment at first. But my initial delight turned to mortification as I realized she was shocked, not complimenting me.
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By the time I finished college, I weighed 150 pounds (68 kilograms) but wanted more.
I spent two years lifting weights six days a week, trying to look like the bodybuilders in books and magazines. That’s equivalent to 600 workouts, 1,200 hours in the gym and about 2.6 million calories. I intentionally didn’t exercise cardiovascular to avoid robbing my muscles of precious calories. Over those two years, I gained 15 pounds and became much stronger.
Despite my efforts, I failed to resemble the underwear models in the Calvin Klein ads.
My face was puffy, my belly extended, and my legs remained skinny despite countless squats and calf raises. But a friend who wasn’t interested in me in high school saw me at the gym, suddenly found me attractive, and asked me out.
I learned a hard truth: our bodies have genetic limits, and I was not built to be a bodybuilder.
In my early 30s, something shifted. People stopped calling me skinny, even though I had gained little weight since college. It wasn’t about my physical appearance but my perception of myself. As I began to accept my body, the uninvited comments ended.
I realized that accepting my body influenced how others perceived and treated me.
Around the age of 40, I came to a significant realization: trying to look like Arnold Schwarzenegger was ridiculous. I would never remotely resemble him, no matter how much I ate or heavy ass weights I lifted. And even if I had, it was a price I wasn’t willing to pay. The two times in my life that I force-fed myself, I felt bloated and sluggish much of the day.
Rather than lifting tree trunks or tossing pigs over fences, today, I focus on my genetic potential, which is built for endurance.
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I’m no longer trying to gain attention or validation from anyone, including myself—leave that to the mesomorphs.
I want to look good enough to meet my standards where I feel neither pleased nor displeased but essentially neutral. A happy medium that doesn’t consume my emotional energy in either direction—the self-obsession of Narcissus or the self-disgust of low esteem.
Occasionally, I go to clothing-optional places.
I always figured anyone could look good in the right clothes and makeup, but there’s nowhere to hide when we’re undressed. Being naked may be the ultimate test of body acceptance, much like Ram Dass’s famous quote, “If you think you’re enlightened, go spend a week with your family.” In my case, “If you think you’re enlightened, go walk around in your birthday suit in front of strangers.”
Yesterday, I signed up to audit a workshop titled Connecting in Love.
Here’s a message from HAI’s website:
Our human bodies are our vessels for life, interacting with the world through our senses and with each other through our eyes, words, and touch. Although we come into the world naked, we quickly learn that nudity is taboo. As we grow older, many of us receive messages of shame about our bodies and sexuality, making us hesitant to be naked, even in appropriate situations.
Being naked with others in a safe, non-sexual environment quiets the negative voices about our bodies, allowing us to stand in our vulnerability and power, reclaiming our beauty and realizing we are lovable exactly as we are.
I’ve discovered that embracing my body is a path, not a destination. I want to celebrate the beauty and strength in my body, live fully in it, and feel confident and okay in my skin, especially as I age.
Stay strong, stay vulnerable, and most importantly, stay you.
Keep embracing your body,
Ryan
Thank you for walking the path with me and participating in the conversation. May you live with greater freedom.
My biggest passion is working 1:1 with readers like you.
Whenever you’re ready, I can help you stop waging war with yourself and start being your best friend. Schedule a free, 45-minute discovery call now.
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Thank you for this Ryan. We’re all on a continuous journey with our incredible bodies. Regarding nudity, it often saddens me how soon (too soon in many cultures) children begin to feel embarrassed of their naked body. In Finland, there is a very healthy attitude towards nudity, which is never considered sexual unless it’s a sexual context. Growing up, summer days and nights are spent naked, children swim naked and amongst family (close and even extended family) the adults will often be naked too on those occasions. Sauna culture contributes positively to this too. Growing up, I saw all my relatives bodies and thought this was completely normal.
Later on in life I had several experiences of being laughed at in school changing rooms etc for being naked, in other countries where I was living. My parents didn’t warn me! I soon learned I can’t do that anymore.
Living in the UK now, where the culture is more conservative and nudity near nonexistent, I am instilling the same healthy attitude in my children towards nudity and bodies that I was lucky enough to acquire in Finland. These cultural differences are so fascinating. My Finnish side is always barefoot inside the house and wherever possible outside too, but here most people will never see their British relatives toes during their lifetime :) Needless to say, we’re a barefoot household! My British husband is slowly being converted too :)
For ten years, I lived with a man who struggled with anorexia. He hated his body, and treated it as such. He beat it up with long walks, 4 hours of sweaty hot yoga, and little to no nourishment. Everything about his life circled around this self abuse. And he expected me as his wife to support this. Cook only vegetarian, no vegan, oops…I mean raw…
His bones protruded and it didn’t look or feel natural.
He left me to be a celibate monk. Perhaps there his starvation would be considered spiritual fasting. I feel for him still, the demons of body image that control him.
Your journey is an honest one, and evolved sweetly over time. Thank you for sharing. I enjoyed this venture into the opposite of what I lived through my ex.
Btw- I love my body. Yoga helped me get there.