Rebuilding my Temple #2- The Cold Hard Truth: I will never be an Olsen Twin

As a child of the 90s, I grew up in the Full House era. Ah yes, the Tanner Family captured our hearts with their shenanigans and tender daddy-daughter, uncle-niece, sister-sister, (insert whatever other blended family dynamic you can imagine) moments. Naturally, I identified most strongly with Michelle Tanner, because we were the exact same age and I could relate to whatever elementary school crisis she was experiencing at the time. Thus began my border-line obsession with the Olsen Twins.

I just thought they were the coolest girls ever. I loved any movie they came out with- especially It Takes Two. I tried to mimic their fashion style circa nineties/early millennia. I once even wrote them a very heart-felt letter on my Lisa Frank stationary requesting to be their best friend, and was subsequently crushed when I never heard back.  But…but…why wouldn’t they want to be best friends with this???

My mother won’t let me live that particular childhood trauma down…but I digress. The Olsen Twins were gorgeous, and glamorous, and millionaires by the time they were teenagers (but at that point my allusion had been long shattered, due to the great letter diss of ’96). Then…somewhere in the 2000s, they disappeared…and re-emerged looking like this:

--still gorgeous, still glamorous, and probably bazillionaires now...but…so thin, almost too thin. Of course there were the allegations of eating disorders and drugs, and some might have been true. But I like to think that aside from all of that, they are just naturally slender. Don’t worry Mary Kate and Ashley; I still have your backs despite your cruel rejection. So where am I going with this?

I was never a delicate child. In fact until I was 13 or so you could call me slightly fluffy. It wasn’t until one fateful summer, when I developed a huge crush on one of Bestie’s neighbors, that I was motivated to ride my bike the mile or so in the 100+ degree Texas heat, just to catch a glimpse of him. And suddenly by the end of the summer, as if by magic, the pudge was gone. It was the first time I’d ever been in shape, however unintentional it may have been. But even so, I still wasn’t a stick. That’s just not how God made me. Even at my most fit, I still have curves.  I’ve always had to work to keep the extra weight off (once I learned how to do it). From there it was just maintaining motivation, which I obviously haven’t always been the best about.

It’s physically, anatomically, impossible for me to ever achieve the coveted, waiflike body type our society glorifies. And seriously, who decided that was the standard for beauty?

So, Mary Kate and Ashley, you are breath-taking the way you were created, and you will always have a piece of my heart, but you will never have my coveted 32C.

Much love to ya,