For the record, Ísold Halldórudóttir never truly hated her body; she just hated how the world perceived it.
Body Language is an essay series that speaks to the ongoing conversation about beauty standards around the world—an exploration of where we came from and where we're headed.
The sun shines through my window and lands perfectly on my stomach like a spotlight. I never used to care much about what my stretch marks looked like, but now all I can think about is how much they’ve grown. And then my thoughts start spinning, over and over, like a broken record.My eyes wander around my body like a metal detector searching for a flaw, a mistake. I begin to suck in my stomach as much as possible.
It didn't help that growing up, I never saw images of people who looked like me. Not in fashion, not anywhere. It was as if fat people didn’t deserve to be seen as beautiful—as if people didn’t expect us to be happy, successful, or even in love. In all honesty, I don’t think I ever truly hated my body; I just hated how the world perceived my body. I hated how the world led me to believe that because of my size, I didn’t deserve to be loved.