Recent posts about body image and the dark/light skin debate
have inspired me to write about the topic of size. Specifically, my size. For
those of you who haven’t met me in person, I am the product of a teeny-tiny
Korean mother (100 lbs, 5 feet tall) and a large, American Anglo-Saxon father (190
lbs, 6’2”).
I measure 5’7” tall and ain’t nobody ever called me lithe or
svelte. Let's just say I’m zaftig. I’ve always been okay with my size and shape
(though more now than when I was an insecure teenager) – except for the one time I went to Korea.
I was fifteen at the time, and stood at the height I am now;
however, my figure was much more, uh, nubile. Anyway, being at least a head
taller than every other Korean woman around, I stuck out like a sore thumb.
People gawked and stared at me in the streets, and my family members – whom I
was meeting for the first time – would not stop commenting to my mom (in
Korean, which I didn’t understand) about my appearance. (Mind you, they had
positive things to say!) Still, I felt very self-conscious during that visit. In fact, I can hardly believe I was brave
enough to visit a public bath house with my mom, aunts, and cousins – stripping
down totally nekkid – without thinking twice! I remember feeling quite
comfortable, once denuded, and wishing that there were bathhouses like that
back home in California.
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