I love Mindy Kaling's new book, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? and I highly recommend it. Reading it is like spending an afternoon hanging out with your funniest girlfriend.
However, I do have one small problem with the book.
Mindy spends a lot of time in the book obsessing about her, as she sees it, not-so-perfect figure. She compares herself to taller, thinner girlfriends, she talks about how hard it is being larger than the other actresses are in Hollywood, and she shares the story of how she felt when a popular boy at her school called her a whale.
I sympathized with Mindy, and I'm sure many of you can, too. I've had times in my life when I wasn't happy with my weight, and I knew how she felt -- at least until I got to the end of the book and Mindy confided that she was a "chubby" size eight ...
Wait a second.
That's my size.
I'm .... chubby?
DON'T ANSWER THAT.
I've been pretty proud about being a size eight, at least until I read that line in Mindy's book.
Size eight is a great size to be, in my opinion. I have to work out and watch my diet in order to stay this size, but I can also take days off and enjoy myself during meals out and on holidays. I like how I look in my clothes and I've decided that while a size 6 would be an attainable goal, anything below that would never be worth the effort to me.
The fact is, I like how food tastes, and I want to be able to, you know, eat it from time to time.
But now that I've read 200-something pages of Mindy's "chubby" woes, I'm forced to see myself through her lens. Because I'm a size eight, too! Should I be comparing myself to my thinner friends? Feeling guilty about the fact that I probably eat McDonalds fries a little more often than I should? Obsessing about size-zero actresses? AAAARRRRGH.
This is almost as bad as the time a couple of years ago, when I told a friend who'd lost weight that she looked great. "Thank you!" she said. "I've worked really hard." Then she whispered to me, "Can you believe I had gotten up to a size eight?!"
I had been feeling fabulous at that party until that moment. After that, I felt like the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.
Why do we do this to ourselves, ladies? WHY?
What do you think about clothing size obsession?
Image via Amazon