My Body, My Shame

In Italy, the most popular size is size 0, and here I am, an 8-year-old kid wanting to become an Olympic gymnastic star.

In my class, I was the tallest, a size 6, and already developed into what would become a voluptuous breast.

I guess that sport wasn't for me, right?

Ballerinas have a small figure and a total androgyny body and that was not me.

My sister instead was skinny like a breadstick. We suffered for years the opposite drama, her too skinny and looking like a boy, me too puffy and shaming myself for it.

We were so young and already punishing ourselves in silence day after day for a body that we didn't want.

I found out at 13 years old that my legs were too short as well, a magazine that I was reading reported the correct measurements for the perfect body, and like many other features, I had to check that one out of the list.

The world was over for me.

If you consider the drama of puberty, the first menstrual cycle, the pimples that continue popping up on your face, the kid that you like not wanting you, knowing that your body could improve but never be the perfect one since it is missing essential inches on the right places...Well, what else could have gone wrong?

Remember the famous saying when it rains it pours?

Well, nobody told me that you could have cellulite as well. That was the cherry on top.

I begin to cover my body and up until my 23rd birthday. I dressed more or less like a boy. I decided that I could never compete with what I wasn't gifted by nature. I'd be better off competing with the guys to whom I was cooler and had the most style.

I was always hiding.

For ten years I never knew my size, what kind of clothes suited me best, or accepted a compliment about my figure.

It's funny, our mind plays many tricks on us and we do anything to defend the thought that the choice we make is the correct one. It will trick you with the fear of judgment, with the punishment that others will inflict you with their words.

The reality?

I have a smile that turns people around, a lovely breast, broad shoulders, a slim waist, an ass that shakes when I walk, and regarding my cellulite, well, that means that somehow I can store fat for the "rainy days," right?

I'm 37-years-old, and I wish I didn't waste a decade thinking that I wasn't worthy of fitting in because guess what, imperfections make you unique, make you stand out from the crowd, and give you that particular twist that will perhaps be your trademark in the future.

My body didn't change much, but my attitude did.

I lost so much time thinking about the negative I had in my body that I didn't see that women would have killed for my flawless skin and my hourglass shape. A positive attitude gets terrific outcomes.

I'm not a supermodel, but you'll sure see me in a skirt this summer ready to turn all the boys' heads around…

See you in the Hamptons!