Loving My Love Handles Like Lena Dunham

Pop Culture

Loving My Love Handles Like Lena Dunham

Illustration: Akshita Monga


stood under the shower with S, paralysed by the sudden surge of shame. After hours of cajoling and coaxing, I had agreed to shed my clothes, but had shed none of my inhibition. When I saw myself in the mirror, I didn’t find the body I had grown up in. Instead, I found this huge pile of shapeless, hairy mess, which I was determined to dislike. I realised that when I stood straight and looked down, I couldn’t see my vagina because my paunch disrupted the view.

Body positivity was never really my thing. That is also because I had convinced myself that most of my friends, who were slimmer by virtue of having flat stomachs, were better off in every aspect just because they had better metabolisms. I mean, didn’t men have this insane X-ray vision, which empowered them to see through your clothes and reject you for your zero thigh-gap even if you had an insane rack?