It was hair, and then it was gone

Yeah, super cheesy headline on this one.  But here's what happened.

My little brother grew a mustache. He'd never really had facial hair before, mostly because his biology didn't really lend itself to such things.  But suddenly, at 37, after 3 weeks in the woods, he had the beginnings of one, and he went for it. 

When I first saw it, especially with mustaches NOT being a thing right now, I was shocked.  Well, maybe surprised.  It was unexpected for sure.  And, I'll admit, I commented on it.  I said, "Whoah! What's on your face?"  He didn't like that question.  In fact, he straight up told me I was rude. 

He wore the mustache for about a month, I think, growing into it more every day, and then suddenly, it was gone.  By the time it was suddenly gone, I had really gotten used to it.  I liked it.  He had worn it on a trip to Italy, where it being a nice cool spring, he was dressed in nice jeans, dapper long sleeve shirts, sweaters, and that mustache.  The whole look worked really nicely actually. 

Behind the scenes, he was experiencing something that he wasn't used to. People kept commenting on his mustache again and again.  Saying things like, "I don't know if I approve of this." 

Basically, a month into the awesome mustache, it was gone.  He was sick of it, he was sick of the comments, and he had the choice to shave that baby off.  And so it was gone.

The cool thing is, he learned from this experience.  What it opened up to him is the world of unsolicited comments on his body.

He even called me out on it.  Because I was guilty.  I had commented.  I had said I wasn't sure if I liked it.  I didn't know how I felt about it. 

What right did I have to feel any way about it at all??

He pointed out that I am constantly saying, "it's my body, my business, not for you to comment on!" This is true.  And internally I thought, "yeah, but, it's different." But it's not so different.  It's his body.  It's his presentation to the world. And it is his choice.

What feels different in it to me,  is the choice.  The bodies we are born into are not a choice.  We cannot control our height, our shape, our colors, our features, nor the way our bodies tend to carry weight. 

Man, that's hard to write.  Did I really just say that we can't control our weight?  Aaaaaah.  Diet culture is so fricking deeply ingrained.  Even my own brain wants to scream back at me, "you can control this!  Your weight is a choice!"   But, can I? Have I ever been able to?  If I *could* control it, would I be choosing what I have right now?

Science is now showing us that upwards of 95% of intentional weight loss efforts fail, and are generally followed by a reciprocal weight gain.  This is science.  It's not laziness, it's not value, it's not morality.  Intentional weight loss fails.   And in the few cases that it succeeds, it is often accompanied by habits that can be classified as anorexia or orthorexia, and frequently, unhealthy exercise habits. 

I get questions ALL THE TIME- are you pregnant?  (And when I say no, my ever forthright students ask, "well then, why is your belly so big?") The looks I get suck as much as the questions.  It sucks to walk around feeling watched, knowing people are wondering, waiting to hear that I'm pregnant again.  I'm not.  This baby bump is what it is.  A constant reminder that I grew four larger than average babies in my shorter than average body.   But after the interactions with the public, there is more... trying to dress a round body that society says is only worthy if it's actually square.  So all the clothes are made for squares.  Nothing fits right.  Nothing flatters.  And when you face a closet, on the daily, full of clothes that are kind of uncomfortable, whew, that wears on a person. And then... even at my relatively not extreme size, some spaces are hard to get through, seats are tight, aisles are too narrow. I don't WANT to imagine how difficult it is for people in bodies larger than mine, because, I honestly don't know if I could handle it. 

In the news recently, Nike was getting shamed for condoning being fat.  *headdesk*  What Nike did, was to make some workout clothes that might actually fit a larger section of the population and then display it in a store.  They said, "Oh hey, our sizes don't work for like, the majority of the population.  Let's make some bigger sizes."  And then, "Oh yeah, now we have a wider range of sizes, let's put them on display so people know they exist and can see what they might look like on a body that looks like theirs."  Applause, Nike.  Huge applause.  That is THE RIGHT THING TO DO.

But PEOPLE, people who apparently think the world should revolve around them, say that Nike, by making clothes for people who EXIST, is condoning them.  Good God, there is nothing to condone or not.  These are real people.  Real people who want to run, and lift, and CrossFit, and yoga.  Real people who might just want to wear their yoga pants to fucking Target like the rest of you. 

What this continues to come back to, is the fact that people believe they have a right to comment on other people's bodies.  Whether it's their mustache or their body fat, everyone wants to comment.  People apparently feel like they are owed something- like they are entitled to have the world around them conform to their aesthetic ideals. Where did this idea come from?  And then beyond that, when the world at large doesn't conform to our ideals, it is our right to comment on it?  No.  No.  No.

During a conversation with friends, I was reminded that this goes so deep, that, even though I am a constant fighter for body positivity and bodily autonomy and respect, even though these things matter to me deeply, it was still my first reaction to comment on my brother's face.  I have not yet escaped the culture that groomed me. 

This whole topic is so multifaceted and huge, I am not doing it a shred of justice. And I'm not going to be able to, so I'll just stop. 

Just please, if you read this, remember, we are all our own people.  Our bodies serve us, and we make some choices about how they appear in the world. But mostly, when you see someone, just greet them.  Just say hello.  And step back from the need to validate or justify their appearance to them or yourself.  You don't know what they're going through, what their choices mean to them, or why and how they have come to the place that they are. Maybe you'll have your own chance to learn about how awful it feels to have constant comments on your body like my brother did- but honestly, I hope it doesn't take that.