05.05.2016

Who are you calling fat?

If you follow me on Instagram then you probably saw this post awhile back where I shared that I got my very first print story published (!) in the May issue of Cosmopolitan!  Writing this story for me was an amazing experience both professionally and emotionally.  For one, I feel honored to have been able to share my thoughts and story on such an important topic (self esteem and body image) and two, writing it was a sort of release of the whole thing for me.  Almost like a cathartic goodbye to all the bullshit I used to put myself through in the name of having a “perfect” LA body.

I won’t spoil too much of the piece for you but I wanted to share the intro so you can get a taste of what I wrote about and, ahem, also sucker you into buying a copy for yourself 🙂

Food has always been a big part of my life: I never met a potato or noodle I didn’t like. And though my home city of New York is the fashion capital of the world, I never felt pressure to be super thin while living there. At a pear-shaped, 5-foot-6 and 140 pounds, I figured I was normal. (I mean, the average American woman is about 5-foot-3 and 166 pounds.)

At 26, I moved to LA for a change of pace, and I got it—I was meeting new people, and eating and drinking my way through a city that has great food, some of which I had never tried or even heard of. (Tacquitos?!) Of course, in the land of the yoga instructor and aspiring actress, most women don’t indulge, and if they do, they go into a shame spiral after. I, however, happily piled on 15 pounds within a few months. I was having so much fun, the weight didn’t bother me.

One night, I was playing beer pong at a house party with some new people. The guys were slinging harmless insults at each other, as they do. Then it happened. A guy on the opposite team slung one at me: “Hey Jamie, you should really lose 10 pounds.” Everyone went silent, which made it worse. “She’s a pretty girl and would look a lot better if she lost just a little weight,” he told our now-uneasy onlookers. I could feel the heat rise in my face before I stormed out.

“So, this is how it’s going to be now,” I thought. “In Los Angeles, I’m the fat girl at the party.”

To read the rest of my story grab a copy of the May issue of Cosmopolitan magazine 😉