On Growing Up As an Unskinny Asian

Originally published on XoJane.com

Growing up as an Asian American, I knew I would never have the long legs or double lidded blue eyes of the models that graced the TV screens and magazines I saw. Hell, I might not even have the tan skin if my melanin continued to refuse to cooperate. I recognized it would be biologically impossible for me to achieve the majority of Western beauty standards, and I was okay with that.

Instead, I contented myself with believing I could do fairly well by Asian standards. My nose was upright, my hair was sleek and straight. Surrounded by petite Asian adults, I also assumed that I would grow up to be the same way. Effortlessly, easily, thin.

Then puberty arrived.

No, “arrived” is too passive of a word. Puberty blistered across my body, ravaging my hormones, skin, bones, and self esteem all in one shot. I put on pound after pound. I worked harder than ever at swim practice thinking it would help keep my weight in check, but instead my thighs thickened and my shoulders bulked up. I slowly, and painfully, realized I wasn’t blessed with the fast metabolism and bird like bone structure I thought was a given.

I’m lucky in that my westernized parents never forced any sort of “girls should be docile and fragile” ideal on me, but that didn’t protect me from family and friends who still thought I ought to look the part. Aunts who clucked their tongues at my round thighs. Family friends who would take my mother aside and mutter in low concerned tones about how wide I was getting. And I’m sure almost all of you can relate, it is a terrible, terrible thing to have people openly dissect the changes in your body that you feel powerless to stop. I lived with two standards of beauty, neither of which told me any part of my body was worth loving.

I continued to struggle with my weight all throughout middle school and high school, oscillating between hating how I looked and hating how I felt about how I looked. I knew I had body image issues, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to obtain my distorted ideals of beauty anyway. By age sixteen, I had tried fasting, juice diets, cutting out rice, calorie counting, lettuce diets, kickboxing, and more. Some methods, like exercise classes and eliminating soda, certainly made me healthier, but I never got my weight down to the number I wanted. Other methods, like starving myself, only added to the colossally fucked up web of low self-esteem, perfectionism, model minority mayhem, impostor syndrome, and distorted body image that was my mind.

This past year, I would come home, do my homework, guzzle a giant can of green tea with a yogurt, and then go running. I lost weight, but I was also absolutely miserable. Then I would snap, binge-eat everything I could get my hands on in the fridge, and then restart the cycle. I ate when I wasn’t hungry, then restricted myself when I was. Food stopped being nourishment to me. It wasn’t even a reward or punishment, but a lens through which I viewed every aspect of my life.

I hit rock bottom sometime in March. I had skipped lunch that day in favor of studying for my biology and English tests. By the time I got home after speech practice, I was absolutely ravenous. One moment of indulgence led to another, and by the end of it I had eaten four bowls of pesto pasta, two red bean cakes, and an entire pint of mango ice cream.

I ended up rubbing the back of my throat bloody that night, trying to make myself to throw up with the back of a tooth brush. When nothing would come up, I curled up on the bathroom floor and cried for two hours.

I told no one. Not my mom, not my boyfriend, not my closest friends. I don’t know what I felt more ashamed of at the time, the incredibly dangerous methods I was trying to lose weight with, or the fact that they weren’t working. Maybe both.

Slenderness is part of the beauty standard for most cultures. But part of the reason the pressure to be thin in East Asian culture is so suffocating is because its assumed to be a given. Terms like “Asian-metabolism” and “Asian skinny genes” point toward the expectation that being slender comes effortlessly (and biologically) for people of Chinese, Taiwan, Japanese, Korean descent.

To some extent, there probably is a higher percentage of East Asian women who are naturally thin. But the usage of this potential correlation as a blanket standard for all Asians led me to believe that my inability to be effortlessly thin meant that something was wrong with me. I was defective, and any measures I took to try and disguise this fact had to be kept secret. Beyond the ritualistic self-body-shaming sharing that most teenage girls discussed, I hid my struggle.

I silently resented my little brother, who was underweight and had to drink chocolate milkshakes after dinner to bring the scale up. I saw red after I got onto the subway in Taiwan and saw a beanpole skinny college student toting a giant bag of fried chicken. I looked away in anger when we went out to dinner and my thinner friends would order burgers and joke about pigging out while I picked at my salad.

My name is Juliana. I am a seventeen-year-old Taiwanese American. There are many people of my descent who are naturally thin, and who are absolutely beautiful that way. I am not one of them.

But I am strong, and smart, and spunky. I can do 15 pushups in a row. I can make my dad laugh. I can rap. And one day, I’ll be able to separate my idea of beauty from my culture’s demands for thin. Having to buy non-S sized clothing will stop ruining my day. I will eat a goddamn cupcake and not hate myself if it shows up on the scale the next morning. I will continue to be careful with my food, but it will be because I care about my health not my weight.

All of that begins with me acknowledging what has happened. The shame, the anger, the hatred. It begins with girls like me speaking up about the ordeals we suffered in silence and the problematic cultural expectations that led to those ordeals.

So here I am, writing to the Internet about the most personal battle I’ve ever fought. That I am fighting. If you can relate, please just know you’re not alone.

231 thoughts on “On Growing Up As an Unskinny Asian”

  1. Ugh I’m so sorry you had to go through that and glad you’ve come to terms and decided to speak out. Blessed be. Best wishes for wonderful things to come!


  2. It so hard to keep up with expected standards of our society’s beauty. I am honored to read such an inspirational post and wish you all the best. Having been around Asians these past few years(I live in China but i am from Botswana) I can honestly understand your struggle. I see a lot of Asian girls in my university trying hard to stay thin because that is what is expected of them, even the boys expect their wives to be thin. Its really not a good outlook. Every one is beautiful in their own way.


  3. Dude, My brothers underweight as well and I’m so jealous of him. I’ve been stereotypically “fat” since puberty hit me too, and I’ve tried everything as well. You’re an inspiration to struggling girls like me, and I hope that one day I can be just as positive as you are.


  4. Reblogged this on sweetdelights and commented:
    I feel that everyone can relate to this blog, even if you aren’t asian. We (no matter what body type you have or even if you’re a boy or girl) are all faced with high expectations and beauty standards that can trigger our insecurities. This author’s perspective, Olivia, is one that I can easily relate to, Because I believed that many other people wouldn’t understand my feelings, I always kept these thoughts to myself. In reality, not speaking out about how I saw myself as a person really brought my self-esteem down. The sad thing is that my family is the one that criticized me the most, and I just let their words sink deep into my self-doubt about my own body. To quote my favorite teacher, Mr. Feeny, “Unfortunately we live in a society where they tell us we have to look a certain way, so we’re all under pressure to live up to unrealistic expectations.” The first step in learning to love your body is to take that criticism and turn into something positive. Don’t let what other people’s perception of you and what they say dictate your behavior.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Find your passions (writing, art, etc.) and it will take you there for life. Be it not weight.
    I would agree the focus needs to be on health and just do whatever exercise you love. It needs to be enjoyable to you so you’ll want to do it several times per wk.


  6. I can relate to this so much. Being a chinese, all of my friends are skinny, small and petite. Everything that I wasn’t. I tried many diets too. I even went to eating 800 calories a day and counting every single food I ate. After so many years, I finally realised that all the friends that I had made, they were with me all these times not because of how I look or how well I put my makeup on but how I am inside. I am a funny, sporty person and moreover outgoing. And it made me realised that by the end of the day, the heart matters more than looks. I became a healthier, joyful and a sincere person. Reading your post make me feel nostalgic about those days where I stupidly cried over a piece of chicken.
    Don’t worry about what other perceive of you because if you are happy, everything else does not matter, Our top priority is our health, physically and mentally.


  7. I’m an L size and loving it. I grew up with a little of that kinda complex. I develop muscles instead of slimming down when I exercise! But hey, we have the curves!
    It’s apparent how nice curves are, I discovered this fact…well… in a public bath house in Korea! I wouldn’t trade my body for anything else. You’re awesome the way you are.
    Not sure about your beliefs, but I believe that God has fearfully and wonderfully made each of us. Cherish a healthy and able body.


  8. You are awesome! Watching what you eat should never be about the scale, but like you had mentioned, about health. Many people have misconceptions about body image and I feel as though a lot of people do not grasp that everyone comes in different shapes and sizes. Our bodies do not all react the same and no two people will ever look alike. Muscle weights more than fat also. It is not about the scale. It is about how you look and feel that really matters. If you are happy and healthy, then that is all that should really matter.

    I applaud you for sharing this and keep taking care of yourself!:)


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