Remember That Size is Just a Number

Don’t let a dangerous mentality ruin your chances of having a carefree summer

From the start of spring every year, I feel dread start to creep right through me. Gone are the comforts of baggy jumpers, hiding in layers and wrapping my legs in thick denim jeans and cosy leggings. As the sun starts to shine and get warmer as we head into summer in the UK, this apprehension has already started to set in.

I’ve felt like this every summer since I was about twelve and started to be more conscious of my body. I remember being in primary school, sitting on the field in my PE shorts, looking down at my legs and feeling ashamed as all the other girls had smaller legs than me. That’s when I started to dread summer and the expectation to shed layers.

Instead of bathing in that initial surge of happiness from the warm summer sun's first appearance in the spring, my experience is more akin to a feeling of dread. Every year I get clothes anxiety as I prepare to change round my wardrobe and pack away the jumpers I know and love. It’s the feeling of no longer being able to hide away that I hate.

I know the way I feel is not right, but it’s always been at the back of my mind, regardless of what size I’ve been in my life. Confidence does not correlate to physical size or number on a clothes hanger but a state of mind. Although I know, I will find it difficult, I’m going to try and commit to not giving in to my anxieties this summer and wear whatever the hell I want. And you should too.

I’ve been ashamed of my size for as long as I can remember

From dreading non-uniform days at school to emerging into young adult life, I’ve always fretted about my size and constantly compared myself to others. On the bad days, I’ve taken to Instagram to look at perfectly polished bodies and guilt-trip myself into needing to eat less that day in the hope of looking more like some model, influencer or Love Island reality star. Of course, it never worked.

There have been things in the past I straight up avoided or didn’t fully participate in through the fear of admitting something as trivial as a clothing size number. At university, I was with a friend, and they were sitting on my bed. It was during the height of the summer, and I had just got myself a pair of light, baggy trousers to keep myself cool (and, let's face it, hide in).

She noticed them on the end of the bed and held them up in all their glory. I remember turning to look at her and noticing that the trousers' width was almost three times the size of her entire body. As she held them up, she and said,

“Oh, I like these. Where did you get them from?”

I couldn’t help but stare at how huge they looked against her and think about how big I must be. From then on, I’ve avoided clothes shopping with other people — apart from my Mum and my partner. When I did go shopping with female friends, I always told them I was two sizes smaller than my actual size because I was too ashamed to admit I was anything bigger. As a result, when we went shopping, I never brought anything.

Looking back, I’m ashamed of myself because I would never place worth on somebody else’s size. I would hate it if one of my friends did that in my company because they were afraid of what I would think. Even though I know in my heart and my head that size is just a number, I still struggle to come to terms with what I am — especially when there are other people involved.

This summer, I’m going to set myself the goal of not giving in to this mentality as it’s gone on for too long. Like many people, I don’t always practice what I preach. The clothes size we buy is literally just a number; it doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t indicate health, fitness, confidence, or anything else.

Throughout my twenty-three years, I’ve been anything from a UK size 8 to 18, and at all those stages, I’ve been unhappy with my body. I’ve never felt comfortable, especially in the summer. That goes to show that size really is irrelevant. I know that social media plays a huge role in my own perception of size, and the fact that a lot of mainstream clothes shops consider size 14–16 a ‘Large’ doesn’t help either, so it’s not just down to me and my own brain.

It’s to do with outside forces, which are harder to control, which is why we need to shift our mindsets.

We shouldn’t care about size because it doesn’t indicate health

Body size, shape or the numerical clothes size you buy — it’s all meaningless when it comes to health and wellbeing. But that’s hard to realise when you live in a society that associates slimness with health and being a bigger size with being unhealthy. Since we were little girls, we have been conditioned to believe that it’s still perpetuated by social media and many mainstream fashion brands with a lack of inclusive models.

I was first introduced to BMI (Body mass index) during a science lesson at secondary school. I loved science, it was my favourite lesson, and I wanted to be a doctor for a long time. When we were learning about physical health and the human body, we were introduced to the concept. During one lesson, our teacher told us to line up and take turns to weigh ourselves on the scale in front of the whole class.

This was after my body issues had started, and I remember with my heart hammering and my palms sweating, I knew there was no way I wanted to get on that scale. At such a young age, looking back, this was a reductive way to teach body health. BMI is proven not to be the most accurate measure of physical health because it does not account for metabolism or body fat percentage. Additionally, it cannot accurately predict the health of different races and demographics because it was modelled only on data from white Europeans.

Furthermore — we were only taught about our health through a physical perspective, and no discussions of mental health ever took place. It re-inforced the mindset of purely focusing on numbers and sizes as an indicator of health when so many other factors are involved. Every diet or workout plan we see advertised before summer is designed around arbitrary numbers instead of feeling better within ourselves. Reaching a certain number deemed ‘healthy’ will never make us happy in the long run because it’s inside and how we feel that counts.

Even if we do focus on physical health, you can be healthy at such a range of weights. Promoting anyone's ideal size is ultimately dangerous as it can lead to us feeling ashamed of being bigger or smaller than average. A range of factors should measure health and not purely arbitrated by a set of numbers, so don’t ever feel pressured to fit into a certain dress size or be a certain weight as it’s unlikely you’ll be happier or necessarily healthier.

It’s not about the size, but how clothes make you feel

Easier said than done, believe me, I know, but my rational brain knows this is the case. I would always say this to a friend who was worrying about their weight — so why don’t I say it to myself? I’ve been a range of sizes in my life, yet I’ve still struggled to wear tight clothes or low tops because, for me, they aren’t comfortable clothes. If I don’t feel right wearing them, it will show, and I’ll be more likely to be reclusive because of the anxiety I feel whilst wearing them.

And this becomes even more difficult during summer, as the clothes that are typically offered to us are skimpier, more revealing and sometimes, tighter. Naturally, when it’s twenty-five degrees or more, none of us wants to hide away in heavy jumpers or jeans, but it can be hard to find summer clothes that make you feel comfortable if you’re anything like me and don't like to feel restricted. In reality, I know it doesn’t matter what other people think, and I shouldn’t be ashamed of my body in any way (and neither should anyone.)

Clothes are there to be enjoyed and be used as a tool to express ourselves with. They should be fun, compliment our personality and never make us feel uncomfortable. How they make us feel is, of course, a matter of personal choice. But for me, I’m done with wearing tight and skimpy denim shorts or vest tops that cling to my every bulge, lump or crevice. During lockdown, I discovered Lucy and Yak, a clothing brand that is all about comfort, and I have a strong feeling I will be turning to them to replenish my summer wardrobe.

I wanted to say this — yes, the mainstream fashion brands may promote a certain style of clothing during summer that you hate wearing — but you don’t have to wear them. Comfort comes from within, so it’s important to explore the range of options out there and only wear clothes that make you feel your best.

I’m fed up with spending summers hiding in thick clothes, or when I take the plunge and decide to wear something tight and out of my comfort zone, changing multiple times over into something else. I’ll be trying to choose clothes that only ever make me feel good — regardless of what anyone else thinks.

A new approach to the summer

When the sun starts to beat down and the blue skies begin to emerge, I no longer want to feel my heart sink with dread. Instead, I want to relish the new opportunity to express myself and have fun with clothes that keep me cool and make me feel comfortable during the long summer months.

I won’t let the size of my thighs or the thickness of my arms define me as they say hello to the world for the first time in months after being hidden in jumpers, but embrace the feeling of summer air on my skin. When I go to the beach and brave the English sea's sharpness on my skin for the first time of the season, I won’t try and cover myself up and feel like the whole world is staring at me in my swimming costume. Instead, I’ll embrace the thrill.

I hope to not spend every summer morning agonising over what to wear and what people will think of my body, but instead, embrace the clothes that I have to feel my best. It’s definitely not going to be easy, but a challenge I’m more than willing to try. After all, living in this mindset every year is unsustainable.

This year, I’m determined not to let my lack of body confidence ruin my summer. Still, I know that this thought pattern stems from years of being taught about health in the wrong way and the dangerous and unattainable messages about women’s bodies that can come with that.