The one in which I realize I am a secretly a victim of society

A (relevant) preamble- Unlike seemingly most women my age, I do believe I am not fat. Sure, there are a few wobbly bits I would prefer were a little more, um, solid, and I may focus on my stomach in photos more than anyone else does. Sure, I have put on the seemingly requisite female early-20s extra poundage (no one tells you about it, but it is a damn fact!). However, in my case, that is not necessarily a bad thing, as I was really, really skinny in high school. Like 100 pounds with no ass skinny. While I do have to watch what I eat a little more, and I miss the days of guilt-free donuts, I generally believe that having an ass is a good thing, and I've never been on a diet. I have hovered around a size 6 for the past few years, and my BMI (as faulty of a measure as that would be) is smack dab in the healthy range.

This apparent confidence doesn't extend as far below the surface as I believed. Yesterday, after giving my grandfather a hug when he came over for Thanksgiving dinner, he proclaimed loudly, with a chuckle, that it appeared as though I had gained weight.

I had never been called fat (or has such things implied) before, and I wasn't prepared for its sting. While I tried to shoot off a nonchalant comment back, and my mother chided him, I actually found myself fighting back tears. For the next hour I both concentrated on how to best cover my stomach from all possible angles, as well as planning how to fit a full scale fitness plan (and further cut back calories) into my already packed life. I felt a new sense of insecurity undressing in front of my boyfriend that night.

It bothers me how easy it was to shake my sense of self-assurance. I'm surprised that such an off-the-cuff remark grabbed me at such a visceral level. It really is ridiculous that a comment about something I should know to be untrue, and really should matter less than negative comments directed at something more core to my sense of self, like an insult regarding my intellect or morality, can smart that badly. I don't want to be one of those girls who seeks constant reassurance on such a seemingly silly matter.

Even more bothersome is the the simple fact that despite thinking I am an intelligent and critical consumer of the mass media and pop culture, it affects me at the same gut level as everyone else. And maybe it isn't that I really am confident and thoughtful about the issue, but rather the simple fact that I have never been the direct target of it before, which is especially disconcerting.