Privileged Skinny Bitch

You know who I’m talking about. You hate her. We all do.

She’s well educated and well traveled. She gives to charity, but doesn’t brag about it. She always looks amazing—even in her Saturday boyfriend clothes with her greasy hair pulled back in a pony tail.

An annoying sense of calm follows her everywhere. She already knows the world is going to unfold just the way she needs it to. She must have had the perfect parents and the perfect life and the perfect everything. No one should be allowed to be that self-assured. Right?

And what’s up with her posture? Doesn’t she ever slouch? I feel like my spine is forever trying to escape my slumped body. Posture must be some kind of quiet indication of privilege. Status, exuding from their shoulders like a blood line.

She also loves eating from the farmer’s market. And she’s not faking it. I can’t even stand 5 minutes at the stalls. I’m too impatient. I slum it and shop at the grocery store.

She loves vegetables. They make her happy. They make her skin glow. They make her an even skinnier bitch. And she basks in every healthy bite. It’s like they electrify her body. It’s sickening.

The worst part is that she’s nice. She’s often seen smiling and treating people with a certain kind of grace and humility. This makes it impossible to feel good about hating her. I guess I just want to be her, but I can only watch and observe her. She’s some kind of enigma.

Perhaps the most confusing aspect is how she’s somehow approachable, yet above it all. Everything about her says love and joy, yet another part says don’t fuck with me, I’m already above it. I don’t even know how to talk to people like this. I’m too easily threatened.

The truth of course is that I deeply want to be this woman—or at least have her ease of being. I want to be beautiful and loved. I want to be compassionate, yet have firm boundaries and strong principles. I want to crave vegetables instead of force feeding them to myself. I want to love exercising and caring for my body in the best possible way.

I want to be the girl from the perfect family and the perfect pedigree.

But that’s SO not who I am.

I lack grace. I’m too frank. I speak before I think. I prefer fruit over vegetables every day of the week. I have to barter with myself to accomplish any kind of exercise. I fear rejection. I’m too hard on people. And some days I can’t be bothered to shave my legs.

For those reasons and more I will never be that privileged skinny bitch.

None of her qualities comes naturally to me, which is why I am always working on them. All the time. I do eat well. I do maintain a healthy weight. I do practice random acts of kindness and I do take responsibility for my life. I just need constant help doing it. If you do too, you’re in the right place. Welcome to SkinnyBitch.