Loving My Body as a Radical Act:

A Reflection on Belonging

In a world where women are constantly told to shrink themselves, loving my body has become one of the most radical acts I can commit.

“She wore ill-fitting clothes to hide her substantial womanliness. Bummi never understood why English women did not show off the outline of their fulsomeness — the more fulsome, the better, so long as it was done with decorum. In her culture, a substantial woman was a desirable one.”
— Bernadine Evaristo, Girl, Woman, Other

Like Bummi, I now believe that the fuller and more shapely a woman is, the better. Unlike her, though, I understand why women in some societies don’t celebrate their shapeliness. Bummi’s Nigerian culture likened fuller breasts, soft stomach, and generous hips to signs of health and beauty — a woman ready to bear fruit.

I share Bummi’s heritage, but I was raised in America, in towns where Black people made up less than 1% of the population. That means over 90% of my perception of beauty, sex appeal, and social acceptance was shaped by the white gaze.

Growing Up Tall, Black, and Full-Bodied in a World That Wanted Me Smaller

I’ve been 6'1" since I was 13 years old, with thighs, hips, and a waistline that didn’t match the beauty ideals around me. For years, I held on to stories that told me my height was “too masculine” and my waist “not small enough.” My body was judged against a standard I never chose.

But recently, I’ve been remembering this truth: my spirit and soul are not tethered to my height, my waist, or my curves. My worth is not measured in inches.

Reclaiming My Body Through Music and Movement

When I press play on my dancehall or afrobeats playlist and my soft, strong, flexible waist winds to the beat, my Blackness — my Africanness — unearths itself.

When my long, thick legs twist and jump in magical, rhythmic succession, I feel the inheritance in my body’s movement. It transcends the low vibration of perfectionism — the kind built on narrow, white, “healthy” ideals.

My Body as Celebration

Loving my body isn’t about reaching a beauty standard. It’s about rejecting one. It’s about embracing the fact that my height, my curves, my strength, and my softness all tell the story of who I am.

My body is glorious simply because it exists. That truth, in itself, is a celebration. And in a world that asks women to make themselves smaller, that celebration is an act of resistance.

~ Nkem [@Naturallyfree123]