That night, my four-year-old niece, who’s always curious and full of innocent observation, found a picture of mine in my phone and asked who that person was. When I told her it was me, she didn’t believe me. She said that the person in the picture looked like her mom, but why did she look different, she looked fat (I assume what she meant was chubbier coz only my face appeared there).
Everyone in the room burst out laughing, including me. It was so innocent, so pure, but in that moment, I felt a slight twinge of discomfort. I mean, who wouldn’t?
I couldn’t help but laugh along, but I also couldn’t deny the sudden sting of insecurity. As the laughter faded and I sat with myself for a moment, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling. I wondered,’Is that what I really look like?’
As I continued to dwell on that innocent remark, I stumbled upon an IG post that completely shifted my perspective. It said, “I don’t have to love my body”.
