Reject the Spirit of the Age of Ozempic

A short entry on skinny culture.

They say nothing tastes as good as skinny feels, but they must’ve never had burrata with a drizzle of olive oil over a plate of salted heirloom tomatoes. Maybe they’ve forgotten how it feels to get impromptu ice cream cones on a warm summer night and the excitement of peering through the sliding window to see the high schooler scoop your waffle cones way bigger than the manager said she should. Perhaps they haven’t sat at a table with friends talking about anything and everything you can’t say in mixed company as you all eat slices of sourdough bread with slabs of butter and a generous drizzle of honey purchased from the local co-op that smells like incense and earth. They could have missed how fun it is to pile into a beat-up sedan and drive with your pals to a chain restaurant where you order a million mozzarella sticks.

Take care of yourself, but consider that stewarding your body does not mean starving your body. Lift weights, run a race, do pilates, but do it because it is a gift to move and not because you are punishing yourself for having cells and hormones that don’t cooperate with the standards society has settled on that would have us all look the same. Reject the spirit of the age of Ozempic and embrace each other with your eczema-covered arms that have held babies and climbed trees and have been raised in the air, jiggling with curiosity and celebration. Step off the treadmill of striving for smallness and take a leisurely walk with a child who is unconcerned with how her body looks in a bathing suit as she plays with her friends at the pool.

By all means, have fitness goals and eat your fiber, but stop worrying so much about how your jawline looks from the side. Find a friend and laugh heartily and let yourself have a double chin in pictures of memories that one day you’ll wish you could repeat. As you age, your body will change, but so will your capacity to love. Be cringe, be bold, wear a skort. Fear not your cellulite and your scars, for they tell tales of a full life whose purpose is so much bigger than looking better than your neighbor.

Try on the cloak of strength and dignity and believe that you really were fearfully and wonderfully made.