Since moving to New York a year ago, I've grappled with self-consciousness regarding my body. I come from a planet where gravity is much weaker than here. My size is considered normal and isn't subject to the same stigma I face now. But on Earth, I stand out and can't help but feel disheartened by my weight. I thought if I could just fit into what Earth considers 'normal', maybe things would get better. So, I tried to adapt, you know? Tried to lose weight, eat like Earth folks do, but your standards of beauty, so different from what I knew, seemed like a mountain I couldn’t climb.
The nagging feeling of not belonging and not being good enough persists. Living here has been a more arduous journey than I anticipated. Gradually, I'm learning to accept my body and cultivate self-love for who I am. There's beauty in being different, in being me. This realization didn't happen overnight. It was a slow process, filled with a lot of ups and downs.
I won't lie, there were days when I felt really low, days when I'd look in the mirror and just not like what I saw. Those days were tough. But then, there were also days when I'd catch myself smiling, feeling genuinely okay with who I am. Those days started to add up, slowly but surely. To maintain a lighthearted perspective, I've developed a sense of humor about my situation. Joking about being the heavyweight champion of the galaxy has helped me not take myself too seriously and embrace my unique journey on this planet.
And humor, man, it's been my life-saver. Making jokes about myself, like calling myself the heavyweight champion of the galaxy, has been a way for me to take the edge off. It's like telling the world and myself that it's okay to be different. Laughing at myself, in a good way, has been therapeutic. It reminds me not to take everything so seriously.