As we walked up to them, my eyes locked with one young girl. She was about 12, brown hair—I smiled, she looked me in the eyes, then she looked down at my legs, pausing at my black yoga pants, she elbowed her friend standing next to her and yelled at a volume I still cannot comprehend, "THUNDER THIGH THURSDAY!" and started laughing.
My first response was disbelief. I couldn't believe it was happening, but then when she continued to shout it loudly, I became very embarrassed. I have never been verbally bullied in my life, but I instinctively reacted like a victim: I tried to get away from her, not look her in the eye, and basically disappear. It wasn't working, and L had no idea what was going on. He was talking to some other children, so I had to pull him away and tell him I needed to talk to him. I just needed to get away from her. It was horrible, and I consider myself lucky but also naive to have never experienced this before.
In that moment, my fears about societal pressures on women's bodies were confirmed—when a child judges a stranger based on the size of her legs, and ridicules her in front of others—we've lost our way. What’s going to happen in a few years when this girl’s body starts to change and it’s no longer realistic for her to maintain a 3 inch gap between her thighs? How much will she hate herself? Or worse, what if her body retains it’s pre-pubescent shape—how poorly will she treat those around her? She’s twelve. And she made fun of a stranger. Me.
Processing this is a difficult thing. I was instantly self-conscious about my thighs, which as I mentioned in the last post, I’m normally not. I felt weird and sad and less significant as a human—as a woman. Then I felt angry that anyone could make me feel this way about myself, much less a 12 year old.
Turns out, that house is the one we were going to for the party we'd been invited to. So we had to walk back through the children to get to the front door—I knew she was mocking me the entire way.
At the conclusion of the night, L and I came home, sat on the couch, and tried to talk through it. Why did it bother me so much? Why does it matter what she thinks? He reassured me that he loved my thighs. A lot. And that I was beautiful. That made me feel a bit better, but I am also pretty self-confident. I don't like everything about my body, but I do love my body because it is beautiful and young and shapely. Now. But what about some day when it's not? What about when I am self-conscious about my thighs because they are larger than I wish they were. What will I find solace in then? What about the people who don't have a Levi - or don't love the shape of their own thighs? What do they lean on when they overhear someone talking about them, or see that group of girls giggling as they walk by? Must we have external affirmation? And what if there is no hope for external affirmation ever? Is there a one-size-fits-all healthy response to body-bullying and body-image self consciousness?
I don't have answers. I think quick, cliche answers are empty and do nothing. I think this is deeper and wider than we are able to explain away with feel good-inspirational-spiritual sayings.
So until I know what to do with this, I will be celebrating Thunder Thigh Thursday. Every Thursday.
