LOVE!
This Thanksgiving break, I went to visit my family in Webster, New York. We do this every year, making the six-hour drive from Annapolis to the upstate NY area, right on the edge of Lake Ontario. It’s beautiful, and it’s cold. Apparently, I am also cold, because I find it really difficult to connect with my cousins, even though I love them to pieces (as you can see in the photo above).
As you can see, I am the only dark-haired child in my generation. This in itself wouldn’t bother me, but the rest of my cousins are all also slim, tall, and practically perfect in every way. In contrast, I am short, round, and a bit of a disappointment (but we don’t talk about that in front of the family). My mother doesn’t seem to understand why I am afraid to be around my cousins, and likes to get on my case in empty hallways about why I don’t get up early during break and spend all my time around my skinny, well-groomed family.
Second to the end is our family friend Jenn, but don’t you love my youngest cousin in her princess outfit?
All of them are very kind and accepting and loving; it is mostly in my head that I am being judged for being fat and ugly compared to the rest of my family. I just feel like I take up much more space, eat many more servings, and talk so much louder than everyone else, and I get the side eye from my mother at the dinner table for taking a small piece of each type of pie (but it’s pie!). My aunt tries very hard to involve me, and stands by me even when my mom is agitated.
Is it strange that I feel like such an outsider in my own family? We only really see each other once a year, so shouldn’t I try to “get involved?” I just find it very difficult to not compare my body to those of the rest of the family members in my generation.
From top left to bottom right: cousins Kristin, Alison, Adam, Liam, Molly, me, and our good friend Jenny (not to be confused with Jenn from above).
Unruly Bodies 
I really relate to your post, I don’t think it’s strange. With family, it’s even more tempting to measure ourselves against each other, even when we know it doesn’t make any sense. For me, I think genetics plays a big part – it’s like, well, we come from the same family tree, shouldn’t we be more alike? And when we feel insecure about our bodies, or anything else, that immediately turns into, shouldn’t **I** be more like them? Every family has different dynamics, but it’s important to focus on the fact that, as you say, you love your family…and I bet they feel the same about you. Also, I totally believe in trying a piece of each pie.
I felt the same way growing up. Not with my family though. I looked at other girls wherever I went and always took notice to how slim they were. I thought that I was fat from when I was 11-18. I looked at my body in the mirror and wanted to be thin. I wasn’t really fat or anything, I just thought that I was in comparison to the other girls. But I think it’s also important to remember that all people come in all different body types. Thanks to the media, we get a mountain of men and women in ads and shows telling us that if you look like this person who we are showing you, you will be beautiful and most of all, happy. Yet we hear stories of young girls starving themselves and putting all this time and energy into achieving this “happiness” Why can’t we just be happy with our own bodies? Do we really need to change ourselves?
As a fat girl in a family of differently sized people, I totally get where you’re coming from, and you’re not alone. I think it’s been naturalized in all people to compare ourselves to others, but when it comes to bodies, we are always looking at the fat/thin spectrum and where we are and where the other person is and consequently how much value we have in relation to them based on the fat/thin topic.
Back to my family, though. My dad has always been a fairly active man with what appears to be a very active metabolism. I, on the other hand, inherited my mother’s body type, and I have been a chubbier body ever since. My dad, however, is also a health professional, so I’ve been getting the side-eye about my eating habits since I was little, too. This has always pained me the most. That I was a straight A kid with aspirations and a pretty good attitude, and it was my body that needed to be shamed. My mom has never actually told me to put down the ice cream or to start running like my dad has, but she still makes the, “Oh, wow, you’ve lost weight! That’s great!” comment that only further reinforces my body troubles. All in all though, I’ve had to realize that my family doesn’t love me less because I’ve got a good adipose layer–they’re just trying to get me to live longer through the only understandings of longevity that they understand. And also, some times parents are just straight up wrong… Like, who would honestly get between a woman and her pie? And who would want to get between me and my ice cream habit.
Moral of the story, I guess, is that you’re not alone, and that some times parents are wrong and other times they’re just trying to help us the only way they know how, even if it hurts. If you ever want to talk about this kind of stuff, you know where to find me, by the way. ❤