One Size Does Not Fit All

Growing up in a Vietnamese family, I was never the one to really blend. I was never the typical, short or skinny, Asian. I have always been really tall, curvy, and even have big eyes. Most people that see me for the first time never believe that I am Vietnamese. Since I work in retail, I hear often enough, “What are you?” The most recent was a Filipino couple asking me. The husband thought I was Filipina and the wife thought I was Samoan. And just this past summer, there was a family gathering, for an unfortunate event, my uncles and aunts saw me and were not able to recognize me. Some of the family members I haven’t seen in over a decade, others a few years. If it weren’t for me being next to my mother and speaking in Vietnamese, no one would have guessed.

My self-consciousness had come from my mother. She was always constantly saying how fat I was. I was always an active child. I was quite a tomboy, so I played so many sports. No matter how active I was, there was no way for me to get down to a small size. I was always at average. Even to this day, my mom still calls me fat. It doesn’t help that my sister is a size 00. To American standards, I’m smaller than the average size. But in the eyes of my mother, I have a lot to work on. Her consistency on this subject gets tiring and takes a toll.

I truly don’t want to believe that it’s all malicious. I would like to think that she wants better for me. She doesn’t want me to be obese and have health problems. I even tell her that being as skinny as my sister isn’t healthy either. Most times, she doesn’t respond. Other times, I think she may be harder on me because of the fact that I look like my father. There was an ugly past with him and she may be harboring feelings about it.

I try to be in shape as much as I could, with the time I have. There are always other priorities that come first over working out or eating right. Knowing that I am in better shape than some of the skinniest girls I know, I am content with being my size. I have embraced my figure and it’s become me. I just don’t see myself ever being the mass media, or my mother’s, ideal size 0 or 2. As long as I’m healthy, I am fine. Because isn’t that what really matters? Size doesn’t always show how healthy you are. It definitely varies from person to person.

Looking at my story, the shadows that I had to overcome for the most part was the parenting at home and some of society. The puppeteers were parent and the mass media with the ideal image they set out. I felt that I was in the shadows, being in doubt of myself and how I looked compared to the typical Asian. I was able to escape from the cave and these puppeteers by self evaluation, wondering if I was doing what was right for me. I’m going to be happy with myself before making other people happy. It sounds selfish but it’s more like the saying, “How can you love someone else, if you don’t love yourself?”

This blog does relate to my truth blog in a way. I know to be true to myself. Your truth is constantly evolving as you evolve. With every obstacle or event, you find out more about yourself than you know.