This is for you. Yes, you, reading this on your phone while trying to avoid eye contact with your reflection. Let’s talk about it.
We’re in our thirties now. The magical age where everything is supposed to be sorted, right? Career? Check. Love life? Maybe. But my body? Definitely a work in progress, and sometimes, a full-blown disaster zone.
And then there’s Lola. Oh, sweet, wonderful Lola. She means well, bless her heart. She’s the queen of unsolicited diet advice, delivered with the precision of a hawk spotting its prey.
Lola’s Golden Rules of Thirties Body Etiquette
“Anak, why are you eating that? So much rice!” she’ll practically shriek. As if I’m about to ingest the entire rice paddy of the Philippines in one sitting.
Then comes the dreaded weigh-in. “Come here, let Lola feel. You’ve gotten a bit… rounder, haven’t you?” This is usually followed by a sigh that could power a small village.
And don’t even get me started on the opinions about my clothes. “That’s too tight, baka anong isipin ng tao.” Because in our thirties, apparently, we’re not allowed to wear anything remotely form-fitting. The fabric police have arrived, and Lola is their chief enforcer.
It’s exhausting, isn’t it? This constant battle between what you see in the mirror and what everyone else, especially the people who love you the most, seems to think you should look like.
The Filipino Lens on “Perfection”
In the Philippines, there’s this unspoken pressure, you know? We’re taught from a young age to be polite, to be respectful, and to generally not cause a scene.
And when it comes to our bodies, it’s like a public service announcement. Every auntie, every distant cousin, every well-meaning neighbor feels entitled to an opinion.
They’ll compare you to your much thinner cousin, or your barbie doll friend. “Look at Maria, she’s still so slim! You should be more like her.” Thanks, Auntie. I’ll just genetically engineer myself into a different person, shall I?
It’s funny because while they’re lecturing me about my “unhealthy” habits, they’re also shoving lechon and pancit in my face at every family gathering. The hypocrisy is almost poetic.
The Thirties Body Uprising
But here’s the thing: I’m thirty. I’ve survived a pandemic, navigated career changes, and dealt with more drama than a teleserye. My body has carried me through all of it.
It’s gone through hormonal shifts, sleepless nights (thanks, life!), and probably a lifetime supply of street food. It’s not going to look like the twenty-year-old me anymore, and that’s okay.
The problem is, society, and yes, even our beloved Lolas, often equate aging with decay. They see wrinkles, a slight paunch, or maybe just a bit more softness, and they panic.
They think they’re helping by pointing out every perceived flaw. They genuinely believe they’re guiding us towards a better, more acceptable version of ourselves.
But what they forget is that “acceptable” is a moving target, and often, it’s dictated by trends and impossible Instagram filters.
My Body, My Glorious, Imperfect Self
So, what do we do? Do we just roll over and accept the barrage of comments until we’re convinced we’re hideous? Absolutely not.
This is where the “My Body, My Rules” part kicks in. It’s not just a catchy slogan; it’s a declaration of independence.
It means that my morning coffee, my late-night snack, my choice of workout (or lack thereof), is my decision. Not Lola’s, not Tita’s, not the internet’s.
It means that if I feel good in a dress, even if it’s a smidge tighter than Lola would prefer, I’m wearing it. Because my confidence is more important than her unsolicited fashion critique.
It means accepting the stretch marks that tell stories of growth or, let’s be honest, that extra serving of halo-halo. They are part of my history.
It means understanding that my worth isn’t measured in pounds or inches. It’s measured in kindness, resilience, and the ability to laugh at myself, even when my Lola is giving me the “concerned” look.
Navigating the Lola Conflict
Okay, I know what you’re thinking: “Easy for you to say! How do I tell my Lola I’m not going to diet just because she thinks I’m fat?”
This is where the art of polite Filipino deflection comes in. It’s a delicate dance, a masterful blend of respect and subtle rebellion.
You can say things like, “Nay, I’m eating healthy, promise!” even if “healthy” means a balanced diet of rice, adobo, and maybe a small piece of fruit. She might not be convinced, but you’ve said your piece.
Or, “Lola, I feel strong and energetic, that’s what matters to me.” This shifts the focus from appearance to well-being. It’s harder for her to argue with your personal feelings.
Sometimes, a gentle hug and a change of subject is the most effective strategy. “Oh, Lola, did you see the new flowers in the garden? They’re so beautiful!” Distraction is your friend.
It’s about setting boundaries, even with the people we love the most. It doesn’t mean you don’t love them; it means you’re prioritizing your own mental and emotional peace.
The Real Thirties Glow-Up
The real glow-up in our thirties isn’t about fitting into a certain dress size or achieving some unattainable beauty standard. It’s about making peace with who we are.
It’s about realizing that our bodies are our homes, and we get to decide how we decorate them, what we feed them, and how we treat them.
It’s about ditching the self-criticism that’s been ingrained in us and replacing it with self-compassion. We’ve earned it.
Our thirties are a time of immense growth, not just professionally, but personally. It’s when we start shedding the expectations that no longer serve us.
And our bodies, in all their unique glory, are a testament to the life we’ve lived. They bear the marks of our experiences, our joys, and our challenges.
So, the next time Lola or any other well-meaning Filipino relative gives you the side-eye about your weight or your outfit, take a deep breath.
Remember that your body is your own. It’s the vehicle that carries you through this wild ride called life.
And it deserves to be loved, respected, and celebrated exactly as it is, right now, in this moment.
Frequently Asked Questions (Because We’re All Wondering the Same Things)
Is it normal for my body to change so much in my thirties?
Absolutely! Hormonal shifts, lifestyle changes, gravity – it all plays a role. It’s a natural part of aging, and your body is just doing its thing.
How do I handle constant comments from family about my appearance?
It’s tough, but practice polite deflection and gentle boundary setting. Focus on your feelings of well-being and try to change the subject. Remember, their comments often come from a place of misguided concern.
What if I want to make changes to my body?
If you want to exercise more or eat healthier for your own reasons, that’s fantastic! The key is that the decision is yours, made from a place of self-care, not external pressure.
When does “My Body, My Rules” become disrespectful?
It’s about finding balance. Asserting your right to your own body doesn’t mean abandoning respect for elders. It’s about communicating your boundaries kindly and firmly.
How can I stop comparing myself to others?
This is a big one. Try focusing on what your body can do rather than how it looks. Gratitude practices and limiting social media can also help quiet that inner critic.
Ready to Reclaim Your Body Confidence?
You’ve read this far, which means you’re already on the path to self-acceptance. You’re ready to silence those nagging voices, both internal and external, that tell you you’re not enough.
It’s time to ditch the guilt and embrace the unapologetic beauty of your thirtysomething body. This isn’t about perfection; it’s about power. The power to define your own worth and to live authentically.
Start small. Make one choice today that honors your body and your rules. Maybe it’s saying “no” to a food you don’t truly want, or maybe it’s wearing that outfit that makes you feel amazing, no matter what Lola thinks. You’ve got this. Your body, your rules. Go live it.
