mynamesearn

Growing up in a traditional Thai household, body positivity wasn’t exactly served with dinner. Around 16 or 17, my body started doing that magical thing called becoming a woman. Boobs? Bigger. Butt? Extra cushion. My figure filled out in all the “right” (and apparently “wrong”) places. Instead of celebrating these changes, my family, like clockwork, became my personal panel of critics.

If you’ve never experienced this (and honestly, good for you), here’s a sneak peek into my reality:

• Every day: “You’ve gained weight, haven’t you?”
• At dinner: “Should you be eating that?”
• Randomly, during TV time: “You were so much thinner last year.”

It was relentless. And here’s the thing: I didn’t gain a ton of weight, just a bit of softness that comes with growing up. But in my family, “different” always seemed to mean “less-than.”

The comments stung. They felt like needles poking at my self-worth. But it wasn’t entirely their fault. My parents grew up in an environment where pointing out flaws was seen as love, a way to motivate you to be “better.” They were just passing down what they knew, trauma wrapped in tradition.

Well, I decided that the cycle stops with me.

Taking Back My Power

First, I had to face the noise head-on. Since I couldn’t escape the constant commentary, I learned how to tune it out. Think of it like background radio, annoying, sure, but you control the volume. Over time, I got so good at turning it down that now, it’s barely a whisper.

When the comments went too far, I started calling them out. Nothing dramatic, just a casual, “That’s not helpful,” or my personal favorite, “You tell that to yourself, thank” It’s wild how uncomfortable people get when you refuse to be shamed politely.

Breaking the Pattern

Generational trauma is sneaky. It hides behind phrases like, “This is just how we are,” or, “We’re saying it because we care.” But I didn’t want to spend my life tearing myself down, or, worse, passing these insecurities onto anyone else someday.

The hardest part was confronting how much shame I’d internalized. Unlearning those little voice overs saying, You’re not good enough, was, and still is, a process. Some days, I feel like Rihanna. Other days? I’m in baggy sweats hiding from the world. And that’s okay.

Self-awareness became my superpower. Understanding where my family’s behavior came from didn’t excuse it, but it helped me respond with more compassion. They’re just humans, doing the best they can with their own rusty tools.

My Body Positivity Cheerleader

One of the brightest parts of my journey has been my boyfriend. This man is the human embodiment of a rom-com montage, compliments, constant reassurance, and not a single word about what I “should” look like.

He doesn’t just say I’m beautiful; he makes me feel it. On days when I stare in the mirror and don’t recognize myself, he’s there, reminding me how amazing I am, not in a cheesy, generic way, but in a genuine, “I see you” way.

Through him, I’ve learned that my body doesn’t need fixing or improving. It’s already perfect because it’s mine. Having someone who appreciates me unconditionally has been a game-changer, not because I need validation, but because he’s shown me how to love myself through his eyes until I could believe it for myself.

The Little Things That Help

Here’s what’s kept me grounded and growing:

• Daily Affirmations: Yeah, it feels cringy at first. But standing in front of a mirror and saying, “You’re gorgeous,” eventually starts to feel true.
• Boundaries: Family will always be family, but you don’t have to absorb every comment. Walk away, change the subject, whatever works for you.
• Movement I Love: Not to shrink myself, but to celebrate what my body can do. Dancing it out? Pure joy. Ice cream afterward? Soul therapy.
• Surrounding Myself with Positivity: Whether it’s friends, social media accounts, or my boyfriend’s endless compliments, I’ve built a bubble of encouragement.

Lessons in Love (For Myself)

This journey hasn’t been perfect, but it’s been mine. Every time I shut down a negative thought or refuse to internalize a hurtful comment, I’m breaking a generational pattern, and that’s powerful.

Body positivity isn’t about ignoring your insecurities. It’s about loving yourself through them. It’s about finding people who lift you up and silencing the voices that try to tear you down. Breaking generational cycles is hard. It’s messy, uncomfortable, and often painful. But it’s also freeing. I’m not the same insecure girl I was at 16, and I have no intention of going back.

So to anyone struggling with body image or family pressures: You’re not alone. And trust me, you have the strength to break the cycle and build something beautiful.

If you’d rather listen than read, I’ve got you covered—check out the AI-powered podcast version to break it all down for you! 🎙️