They say societal norms are common,
as if cruelty becomes acceptable
when enough people repeat it.
The ones who laugh,
the ones who stare,
the ones who throw words like stones—
they walk away untouched.
But the one being body-shamed
carries those words home.
Carries them into the mirror.
Into changing rooms.
Into photographs they never post.
Into oversized hoodies,
forced smiles,
and silent tears at 2 a.m.
A person gathers courage
to finally step into a gym,
to fight for themselves,
only to be welcomed
by awkward glances
and judging eyes.
And somehow,
the people who mock are “normal,”
while the person trying to heal
is made to feel wrong.
“If you're not fit,
no one will marry you.”
“If you don't look a certain way,
you will never fit into society.”
As if a body was made
to earn approval.
As if our worth
could be measured in inches,
numbers,
or the size stitched onto a tag.
And then there are those
searching through racks of clothes,
looking for plus-size outfits,
only to find empty spaces,
because even brands decide
who deserves to be seen.
But even the slim ones are not spared.
“Too thin.”
“Too flat.”
“Eat more.”
“Why do you look like that?”
No body is ever enough
for a society
that survives on making people hate themselves.
We do not know
what battles a person is fighting.
What pain they carry.
What they hide behind their silence.
So who are we
to shame anyone?
Because someday,
life may place us
in the very same fire.
And maybe then
we will understand
how much words can burn.
We are not here
to satisfy society.
We are not here
to fit into the tiny boxes
people build for us.
We are here
to live.
To breathe.
To wear what we want.
To exist without apology.
Time is limited.
Life is short.
So live it
for yourself—
not for the people
who were never going to be satisfied anyway.

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