By: Maya Akunuri
Per a study done by the NIH, 20.5% of girls under the age of 13 are dissatisfied with their bodies. Before they develop, before they reach puberty, before they enter high school. Before they fully understand what beauty is, many have already learned that they should want to change themselves.
I was one of them.
Growing up with Body Image Issues
For many, body image doesn’t begin with crash diets or calorie counting. It begins in quieter ways: staring at yourself in the mirror, sucking in your stomach every time someone pulls out a camera, and learning to see your body as something to fix.
For me, it began innocently when I was squeezed into a saree I hadn’t worn in three years. My stomach was exposed, naked, for the first time in a long, long time. Ballooning over my skirt, it sat plainly, unaware of the million little things it had just shown me. I breathed in by instinct and draped my chunni over hastily, covering everything the saree had rudely reminded me of. And at just 11, I thought to myself: I have to lose weight!
For years afterward, I chased a body I once had.
Growing up, I was always the “skinny kid.” My body was never something I thought much about until it started to change. Around the same time puberty began reshaping my body, the COVID-19 pandemic upended my routine. Together, they transformed not only the way I looked, but the way I saw myself. I could no longer casually snack on Doritos or scoop some ice cream “just because”. I also began to avoid any clothing that revealed even the slightest bit of my stomach, carrying the shame I had first felt in that saree into my everyday life.
Cutting My Culture Away
Eventually, that food guilt followed me to the dinner table. It wasn’t just chips and desserts I began to fear; it was the food I had grown up eating. The South Asian food I loved was deemed “too oily” and thus unhealthy. Without realizing it, I began to cut out a key part of my culture.
But everywhere I looked, the ideal body looked the same: long legs, a thigh gap, and, above all, a perfectly flat stomach. It was the body celebrated by Western magazines, social media influencers, and the fitness industry. At the time, I didn’t have the language to explain why I felt so uncomfortable in my own skin. But now, I realize that I was trying to mold my body to fit a skin it was genetically wired to oppose.
The “Why” Behind my South Asian Stomach
During British colonial rule, India experienced numerous famines and periods of severe food insecurity that left generations facing chronic nutritional scarcity. In environments where food was unpredictable and survival was uncertain, the human body adapted to survive by becoming more efficient at conserving energy when food was available. These adaptations helped individuals endure periods of scarcity, where having energy reserves could mean the difference between life and death. However, these historical experiences shaped more than just physical survival; they influenced the way communities understood the human body.
In many South Asian communities, a fuller body became associated with strength, prosperity, and the privilege of having enough to eat, representing security after generations of uncertainty. The relationship between food and body image was therefore deeply connected to a history of resilience, survival, and cultural values that continue to influence how we view our bodies today.
Learning this changed the way I saw myself. Research at the National Institute of Health shows that, compared to many other ethnic groups, South Asians tend to have higher levels of body fat at similar body weights. For years, I had looked at that statistic as proof that something was wrong with me. But the very features I spent so much time criticizing were common among the people who raised me, loved me, and shaped me.
Self Growth and Reflection
I spent years comparing myself to my non-South Asian friends, never realizing that I was measuring a South Asian body against an American standard. My body carried the history and culture I came from, but the beauty ideal I was chasing was never created with someone like me in mind.
I thought changing what I ate would change who I was, but cutting away my cultural foods did not bring me closer to acceptance; it only made me feel further from myself. Back then, I convinced myself that removing Indian food was the solution; but it turns out the Indian food is never the problem, your mindset is.
My Healing Journey
Healing did not happen overnight. I didn’t suddenly wake up loving every part of my body, nor did I begin preaching body positivity. Instead, I started rebuilding the relationship I had damaged: with food, my culture, and myself. I reached for pani puri, butter paneer, and rajma chawal without hesitation or doubts. I stopped seeing my favorite meals as something I needed to remove from my life and started seeing them as reminders of the people, traditions, and memories that shaped me. Slowly, sarees and crop tops re-entered my closet without second-guessing, and I began wearing them without trying to hide my stomach. Through reconnecting with my culture, I found a sense of self-acceptance that I had spent years searching for in impossible standards.
Final Thoughts
When I look back at that 11-year-old girl in the saree, I wish I could tell her that her stomach was never something to hide. She did not need to earn the right to feel beautiful, and her body was never a problem to be solved. To every South Asian girl wondering why she doesn’t look like the women celebrated online: your body is not wrong. You do not have to shrink yourself to fit a standard never made for you. Your food, your culture, and your body are not things to overcome; they are parts of your story worth celebrating.
About the Author
Maya Akunuri is a 15-year-old from Saratoga, California, who deeply cares about mental health advocacy, body positivity, and self-confidence among youth.