It seems like any woman would love to be called "skinny." Me included. It's the word we use to sum up anything that is the opposite of fat. We want to be skinny. We want to have skinny lattes, skinny margaritas, and skinny jeans. Bring it to me skinny!
I didn't know this word was a problem until these past few months.
Last Christmas, I got really pissed when I realized how fat I was. I thought back to the time that my dad came to my house, hadn't seen me in a while, and commented how skinny I was looking. I was in the mid 160s. I had recently gained a few pounds. That's not skinny by any stretch of the imagination. We took family pictures in June 2012. Colby has really great, slim legs in the pictures (and in real life, ahem) and Alex is a bean pole. Colby's mom went on and on about what a skinny family we are and how we all have the same physique. What a joke. Stop using that word! I wasn't even close to skinny!
I would take those comments and think to myself, Oh, I guess I actually still look good. It messed with my head. Made me think I wasn't getting a one-way ticket to ChubTown.
Then, I stared working out. I lost 33 pounds. Ironically, I hate the word skinny for another reason. Yes, I lost weight. But I'm now a normal weight. I have muscles and I'm fit. Not skinny. Why is average considered skinny now?!? Too bad "fit" doesn't roll off the tongue like "skinny" does. No one is ordering a fit latte or a fit margarita.
So, I've worked my ass off (literally) for the chance to be considered "skinny" and now I don't like the word. Weird. I know. I am what I am.
And yes, people have been calling me skinny and part of me says yay! Just know that in my mind I'm correcting you.