This scenario has played out so many times that I’ve developed a sort of routine for it, and it happened again just yesterday—on Valentine’s Day. I’m chatting with a pleasant guy who seems intelligent and attractive, and he appears to be interested in me as well. He compliments my humor, intelligence, and beauty but then adds that I’d be stunning if I just lost a few pounds. He expresses hope that I’m not offended. I assure him I’m not. He’s entitled to his preferences, and I genuinely wish him well in his search. I share that I used to be very thin, having engaged in unhealthy habits like starving myself and using substances instead of eating. Now, I cherish my body and prioritize my health. If he values thinness, he might want to look elsewhere.
This part often catches them off guard. They seem to believe they’re doing me a favor or revealing something I haven’t heard before. Do they think they’re the first to suggest I lose weight? I grew up with a mother who was a model, and I’m all too familiar with unrealistic beauty standards, particularly those imposed by white men. It’s clear that their concern isn’t for my health but rather a desire for a woman they can flaunt like a trophy.
There’s also a curious notion among some white men that I must have never experienced being thin. They assume if I had, I would have done everything to maintain that state. They seem genuinely surprised when I reveal that, at one point, I did attract wealthy white men, and honestly, it was rather unremarkable. I wasn’t happier then; I find more joy in my life now—embracing my weight, my health, and my choices. I’m not as concerned about others’ opinions of me.
As a Latina, there’s an expectation that I’m on a journey of self-discovery, where a white man is meant to find me, enhance my life, and, by extension, heal my inner struggles. The idea that I once conformed to their ideals and chose a different path contradicts the notion that I exist solely for their approval.
I usually refrain from sharing all this, as it feels futile. I simply tell him that it’s fine, and we can just be friends. He quickly backtracks, complimenting my scent, my charm, and how he can connect with me on various topics, claiming he’s never met anyone like me. I respond positively, indicating we can still be acquaintances but not romantically involved.
I’m not interested in anyone who doesn’t accept me as I am. How could I feel comfortable with someone who’s only imagining how attractive I could be? One day, my weight may fluctuate, but those men who insist I should lose weight need to step aside for those who appreciate me holistically.
Why do I specifically mention white men? Because this issue predominantly arises with them. Not all white men, of course, but when it does happen, it follows a recognizable pattern. It feels as if they’re offering a favor I cannot refuse, implying that as a Latina, I should be grateful for their attention, allowing them to set conditions for me—conditions that seem to require me to be perfect. Meanwhile, a white woman merely has to be herself.
When I reject this notion, they realize their mistake. I refuse to prioritize their preferences over my health and self-love. My self-respect and confidence in my body trump their expectations of me. They attempt to regain my interest but often too late, as I’ve recognized the red flags.
They can’t argue it’s about my health, as I’m healthier and fitter now than ever. I limit my alcohol intake and work out regularly. They can’t disguise their motives; they threaten to seek out thinner women, and I’m completely fine with that.
I refuse to justify my worth by conforming to their standards or compromising my needs. My identity and self-care are for me alone, and that realization often unnerves them.
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Summary:
The article discusses the author’s experiences with men, particularly white men, who suggest she should lose weight despite her having a healthier and happier life at her current size. The author reflects on the unrealistic beauty standards imposed on women and the assumption that her worth is tied to her weight. She emphasizes the importance of self-love and confidence, rejecting the idea that she should conform to others’ expectations.