Little.

I am not little.

This thought is sparked many times a day by various external influences. Yesterday, Adaline was in our bed and wanted me to come snuggle her. She kept turning off the light, laying down, and patting the three inch space between her and the edge of the bed that she intended for me to occupy.  So, one of my first thoughts today was about how I am not ‘little’.  So, I scooped her up crawled in bed and snuggled away in the middle with her.

Today, I was reminded I am not ‘little’ when a picture posted to a parenting group I am in on FB ignited outrage from people who associate heavy with unhealthy. Despite the fact that health comes in every size and that a photo tells nothing more about a person that what they look like, people in this group felt it necessary to attack every aspect of the character of the woman in the photo based on the fact that she was not ‘little’. As I debated, as a chubby health educator and professional, about whether to be offended by the comments made by the self-proclaimed “healthy moms” or to support their arguments that someone who is overweight is at greater risk for certain health outcomes, I again reminded myself that I am not ‘little’.

Call it little, skinny, thin, healthy, or toned, I am on the opposite side of what society what society would judge as an acceptable weight. Not that society has any business peeking over my shoulder at my scale, but had the picture of the woman that ignited this outrage been of me, the response would have been no different. People make assumptions about my character, abilities, habits, and personality because I am not ‘little’. It happens every day.

Even at my smallest, I am bigger than others. It is a fact that truthfully doesn't bother me. Especially now that I am pregnant again, things are growing at astronomical rates. It feels like puberty all over again, except I am growing hips on top of hips and boobs on top of boobs. I have always been abnormally strong, able to lift really heavy things without much effort at all, so a good portion of me is muscle. But, there is a lot of extra stuff, too. Extra boob. Extra booty. Just… extra. It is extra that I can live with or without, but I have learned over my relatively short life, that the extra does not define me. Just like the color of someone’s skin doesn't define them, my weight is just an aspect of who I am. And, much like a scarlet letter, my experience with society has been shaped by the fact that I am not ‘little’.

So, as a person, I am generally very confidant. I can cross my legs, have no health issues, and my body is never an inhibition to the things I want to do (unless it is growing another human being and I want to ride roller coasters – then it is a major inhibition). I am not a person who feels the need to cover up at the beach, nor do I think my size limits my fashion options. I am not shy, inhibited, or unattractive because of my size. I have run marathons, climbed mountains, jumped out of an airplane, and can chase my kid all day – even with my ‘extra’.  But, this thought of, “I’m not little” often leaves me feeling like I have less worth than those who are “little”. I cannot help but wonder why that is. And that is what this post is about.

Let me preface this with, I am not throwing a pity party. I have an able body. I can walk; have all my limbs and faculties about me. I can hear, speak, taste, smell, and feel. There are so many others who would love to have a functional body; I am certain they would not complain about the “extra”. They would be grateful to do any of the things I just listed, and I wake up every morning thankful for this very able and ample body.

So, why, despite my gratitude and confidence does this thought manage to pervert and sour the otherwise great moments that are making up my life? Why do I always remind myself that I am not “little” and thus feel like I am not as good, worthy, or needed as those who are? It usually comes out of nowhere, and makes me feel like I have dropped a bowling ball on my toe. Meaning, the pain and shock is very intense, but rather short lived.

We all have something that breeds insecurities within us. Some people might be worried about their hair or teeth. Someone else might be worried about their feet or eyes. Bodies are made up of lots of parts and pieces, and just about everyone’s parts and pieces look different than others. And, at some point in time, most of us have felt inferior because of whatever it is that we continually remind ourselves we are too much or not enough of.

My personal opinions regarding media and social expectations are what one would expect from anyone who has any level of self-assurance. IT SUCKS. The ideal idea of beauty created for women (and men truthfully) is so unattainable that is mind boggling that it is even debated. When it is socially acceptable for CEO’s of company’s saying they don’t want certain types of people wearing their clothes and models are airbrushed into cartoonish shapes, I think it is pretty evident we have a very imbalanced perception of beauty. When women would rather be seen as pretty or thin than intelligent because they are terrified to not be “pretty” (never really acknowledging that pretty and intelligent can peacefully coexist). We live in a world where a woman’s sexuality and appearance defines her more than her accomplishments and achievements – where the body speaks louder than the voice, and at the same time the voices of our young girls are screaming, “PLEASE APPROVE OF MY BODY!!!” I could go on for days about the evils of mainstream media and Photoshop… Come over sometime and we can chat about it!

However, this is not a feminism piece, particularly because I think our society unfairly depicts men in the media just as much as women. This post is about self-acceptance and how, if we can learn to accept and truly love ourselves, perhaps we can learn to accept and truly love others.

Since I am not ‘little’, I have been on the receiving end of lots of cruelty in my time. From those that don’t know anything about me to those who have had ample opportunity to love me. I don’t expect to make every person in society happy, but I do intend to try to be kinder than some of those I have met in this life. It is when I think about this little (no pun intended) fact, that I am almost grateful I have had the opportunity to not be “little”. That I have had the chance to be different in some way, which has totally shaped my perception on life.  

Why on earth would I appreciate the opportunity to be chubby? Large? Robust? Well, other than my husband loves something to pinch - this is why – I feel it has helped me become sensitive to the feelings of others. It has helped me grow a desire to serve and build up, rather than tear down the way others have attempted to tear me down. It has helped me be less selfish and more humane. I would never hurt someone intentionally, because I have been intentionally hurt.

I am not little. My butt is big, as well as my thighs. I have a round face and cleavage that a hiker could get lost in. What is comforting, and hopefully the message that is taken from this, is that it’s ok to not be ‘little’. Because while I may not fulfill societies expectations for stature, my bigness extends beyond my tummy, ass, and thighs, and that is where the bigness really counts.

I have a big mind that dreams big dreams. I have big hopes and a large quantity of faith that attempts to attain those hopes every day. I have a big laugh that infects nearly everyone I meet. I have a big voice that can be used to perpetuate positivity and love. I have big courage to do what I know is right in the face of someone/something telling me it’s wrong. I have big shoulders for those around me to lean on. I have the ability to have a BIG impact on the world. I have a BIG job as a mom and wife. I have a BIG responsibility to the women I serve in my business. Most importantly, I have a big heart, which feels deeply. I feel pain when others categorize me unjustly based on the fact that I am not little. I feel immense happiness at even the smallest thought of my growing family. I feel deeply loved when I catch my husband staring at me like I am the most amazing creation he has ever seen.  I feel gratitude when I count the many ways my life has been blessed. I feel anger when I see others mistreated. I feel successful when someone tells me I have helped them through something. Mostly, I just feel with my big heart.

I guess I just needed to immortalize, somewhere, for my daughter who just might be over six feet tall, that being big, or different in any way, does not deteriorate your worth, value, beauty, or ability to impact others in even the slightest way. Everyone faces their own insecurity, which is why I want her to know that she should always strive to be kind and sensitive to the feelings and needs of others. I hope that the cruelty of the world stays far from her and the she can see the goodness in humanity long before she experiences any of the meanness. I hope she can grow to love and appreciate herself as much as I have been able to. I hope she never looks at a mirror and stares wishing the reflection were different. 

Too many people wish that.

Most importantly, I want to raise my children to know that being different is normal. That the impacts that people can make for good are not dependent on their size, color, hair texture, or any other physical attribute. That as long as she works hard and is nice to people, she will go far in this life.

I challenge you all to stop before you judge someone, and make your influence a big fat positive one. Even if your judgment isn't made verbal, or really that harsh, just realize your making it. Think for just a moment before you say anything to or about anyone. Remember for a brief moment that we all have trials and struggles. That we all want happiness. Then, realize that your influence can bring that happiness to fruition. 

In that respect, none of us should want to be little.