I used to hate the low-rise jeans trend.
I didn’t know how to get into those jeans.
I used to force myself to either wear something really long that hid my butt, which would make me look like a whale,
Or tie something around my waist.
There came a time when I always had a shirt tied around my waist.
If I fell or moved, I’d get flustered and feel like I was naked.
There were stupid people who would ask me, “Why do you always have a shirt tied around your waist?
At school, it was prohibited to do this.
We used to have to tuck our shirts into our pants, which would give me love handles.
I used to try to get around it or untuck my shirt.
But if I was unlucky enough to meet a teacher in the corridor, then I’d have to quickly tuck it back in.
I ended up getting a tall backpack and loosening the straps all the way so that it would come down and hide everything.
I’d never take it off.
People didn’t understand. Sometimes they’d try to cheer me up.
“By the way, maybe you can put your bag here.”
Or “You shouldn’t be carrying this bag around all day. Take it off for a little bit.”
My face would turn red, and I’d hold my bag tightly, not knowing what to do.
“I don’t want to take it off.”
At the same time, I discovered another trick: jackets.
But the problem with jackets is that sometimes it would get really hot,
And even if I could bear it, the people around me would always ask: “Aren’t you hot?”
Instead of driving people away from my weird butt, I had managed to turn their attention toward something even weirder.
I stopped wearing jeans altogether, and I rarely wore pants for 7 years.
I remember the first time I dared to wear jeans again, I was shaking with fear.
I felt like I was going to transform into someone else, someone I didn’t like, someone I hate, someone who destroyed my adolescence.