By Laura Roscioli.
We met Laura on our recent BITS launch shoot. We were so inspired by her confidence, and her honesty when talking to us about her body. When we found out she was a writer too, we asked her to pen some thoughts for us here. These are her words.
2020 was the year where we were no longer able to distract ourselves from our real issues with the everyday task of being “busy”. I don’t know about you, but I am damn good at distracting myself with afternoon spritzes and meaningless drama. But in 2020, the spritzes were nowhere to be seen and the drama was very real, very scary and very isolating.
Previously, I’d somehow been able to avoid the insecurities I had about myself and my body. By feigning confidence, sass and sarcasm I thought I’d gotten away with tricking everyone (including myself) into thinking that I was a fierce boss-bitch who’d never had a self-deprecating thought in her life.
But, as I sat in the silent suburbs of inner-Melbourne with nothing sparkly enough to distract me from my truth, I felt defeated. I found myself alone with my body and instead of wanting to nurture it, I wanted to hide it – even from myself.
Without the façade of dressing up and having an audience, I knew that I wasn’t satisfied with how my body looked and more importantly, how it felt. I didn’t want to catch a glimpse of my tum in the mirror or see the dimples in my upper thighs when I sat down.
I kept asking my boyfriend if I looked fatter than when we’d first met or if my stomach felt squishier than usual and I didn’t even want to eat delicious snacks anymore. That’s when I realised something had to change.
At first, I started to work out (if you knew me, it would be more shocking).
Next, I started to cook healthy meals.
And then, I began to write.
Once I started, I couldn’t stop. The words poured out of me as though they’d been waiting at the brim of my lips for an eternity. The release of much pent-up physical and creative energy paired with plenty of time to think sent me into oblivion.
I wrote about how I truly saw myself and it was ugly. I realised just how angry I was at the society that raised me to believe that a flat stomach meant success. And if I was feeling it, I knew others were too and that made me even angrier.
So, I started taking photos of my dimply butt and putting them on the internet.
At first it was out of spite and then, it was out of love.
At first it was for others and then, it was just for me.
Now it’s still for me but I think sharing is a crucial part in societal change. I truly believe that if we all just told the truth about how we were really feeling, we wouldn’t get so stuck.
I’m basically here to tell you that I got over my cellulite. And my lack of thigh gap and my little squishy tum and my arm fat and my big boobs.
Letting out the anger and shame I had surrounding my idea of a perfect body and the fact that I don’t have one actually freed me from the self-indulgent, highly egotistical, groundhog-day-type trap I was in. I started to see myself real human with a real body that doesn’t have to pretend to be beautiful.
I know people preach about all bodies being beautiful. Maybe you’ve read heaps of articles on size diversity and half your Insta feed is curvy models but you still don’t totally love your body and that’s okay. To love your body doesn’t mean you to love it all the time. No one does.
I'd just like to encourage you to take care of it, whatever that means for you. For me, it’s been bras without underwire and lots of baked fish and veg. Purposefully taking care of ourselves means to love ourselves and the more we love our bodies, the more they’ll love us back.
Now, go buy yourself some BITS.
Photos by @jacquelinelouisew