Beyond Size Zero

Bodies, Barbie, and Self-Love

The number on your tag is less important than what you tell yourself in the mirror. It’s in those moments of honest reflection that you shape your confidence, self-worth, and how you carry yourself through the world. Your relationship with your body goes beyond size; it’s about the respect and kindness you choose to give yourself every day.

Barbie Never Asked to be Perfect

I’ve been called too skinny, too pretty, too much—and not enough. People would look at me with concern, as if my appearance signaled a crisis. Strangers have offered unsolicited advice wrapped in judgment. But what if being a 0 wasn’t about deficiency? What if it was simply… normal for me?

I’ve lived in this frame my whole life. I’ve watched the world react to it before I even had words for what was happening. In school, I was a beautiful girl who didn’t know it because of the look on people’s faces. The confusion. The projection. The judgment.

We talk about body positivity, but let’s be honest: our culture is still obsessed with appearances, and very selective about which ones are celebrated. We’ve made Barbie the villain for being “too perfect,” while avoiding harder conversations about our insecurities. We condemn certain shapes, both small and large, when what we should be doing is asking better questions.

This piece isn’t about glorifying thinness. It’s not about comparison. It’s about being real. About understanding how the body we live in, every second of every day, shapes how we move through the world. And how it’s time to stop apologizing for the way we’re built and start owning it.

Beauty Doesn’t Just Attract, It Reveals

The presence of a beautiful woman doesn’t just draw attention, it exposes people. You can watch discomfort take shape in real time through the glance, the whisper, the sudden need to retreat or move in closer.

Some men try to possess her; others try to shrink her. Some women idolize her; others reflect their wounds onto her. But allure has always held the power to reveal the emotional maturity of the room.

What no one tells you is this: beauty isn’t power until you learn to wield it. And wielding it takes more than aesthetics. It takes discernment, boundaries, and the ability to stay grounded when people mistake your face for an open door.

Without strength, beauty becomes prey.
Without grace, strength turns to armor, and armor isolates.

Being a 0 Is Never the Problem

I never diet. I eat what I crave—rich food, real food. I walk, hike, and move when I feel like it. But the scrutiny never stops. Not because anyone truly questions my health, but because I don’t fit their narrative.

People assume I am privileged by my figure. They don’t see the contradiction of having an “ideal” look while still being treated like a threat. I’m not fragile, I’m thriving. And somehow, that bothers them more than if I were unwell.

The issue is never being a 0. The real tension comes from being a 0 who is also sharp, grounded, and hard to dismiss. Being striking and self-possessed. Being everything they were taught couldn’t belong in one woman.

Born Petite in a Culture That Worships Size

In the U.S., I’ve often felt invisible—not because I wasn’t seen, but because I’m still not always taken seriously. Even buying clothes can be a hassle. Petite women aren’t often viewed as powerful. We’re expected to be cute, sweet, or docile.

But I never fit neatly into those boxes.

I am petite, but I’m also smart, multilingual, and worldly. I’m writing this in English, the fourth language I’ve taught myself—mostly through dictionaries and encyclopedias. I have leadership instincts, a quick mind, and a presence that outgrows my stature. That combination makes people deeply uncomfortable because it challenges their expectations.

Discomfort doesn’t come from within, but from how others look at you. Over time, you start to feel it everywhere: too feminine to be respected, yet too confident to be overlooked.

Effortless Isn’t a Sin

Here’s the reality: my size has always felt easy to live in.

I’ve had a fast metabolism since I was a child. I move joyfully, eat intuitively, and don’t micromanage my meals. Though I’m allergic to dairy, soy, and gluten, I still indulge in dark chocolate and plant-based treats. There’s no food I’ve ever feared or would refuse to try.

And yet, ease seems to offend people more than struggle. They assume that effort must be visible for radiance to be valid. They need you to starve, shame, and sweat your way to worth. If you didn’t suffer enough, they don’t think you’ve earned it.

But what if you simply are—and that’s enough?

The problem isn’t your shape. It’s their story about your shape.

Barbie Never Hurt Me, But People Did

For decades, Barbie has been demonized. She’s been blamed for anorexia, perfectionism, and setting impossible standards. But Barbie never told me I was too much. The real harm came from people carrying unresolved pain. They disguised their unhappiness as health advice and tried to feed me their junk as if it were medicine.

Barbie never mocked me for being beautiful.

Barbie never tried to fatten me up out of passive aggression. She just stood there with a curvy waist, long legs, unapologetic plasticity, quietly minding her own business.

Barbie didn’t create our pain—she reflected our fantasies. Those fantasies have always been mixed with projection.

The truth is, she’s stunning. There is something worth admiring in her proportions, even if they are stylized. She reminds me that femininity can be bold and iconic. What hurts is how others react to that same boldness in real life.

Barbie is not the enemy. Shame is.

Men Struggle to See Beyond the Surface

I’ve learned early on that most men don’t want to know me beyond my appearance. They admire, approach, flatter, then realize I’m not just a pretty face. I have depth. I don’t need their approval, protection, or wallet.

That’s when the confusion begins. I’m supposed to be soft and easy to impress. But fantasies don’t talk back, and I do.

On a dating app, I was banned after getting three thousand likes in one day because people assumed I wasn’t real. But I am. And I see through people fast.

I don’t shame men for attraction. I just don’t mistake it for intimacy.

Model and Architect, But They Can’t See Past the Model

A business contact once found out I modeled and couldn’t believe it. “Wait—you’re also the architect I’ve been working with?” he asked, as if the two were mutually exclusive.

Often, people don’t take me seriously until I outperform their expectations.

I’ve led complex projects, managed billion-dollar builds, and designed sustainable cities. I’ve negotiated with clients, overseen construction, and fluently bridged cultures.

But my face, my size, my style—they all trigger stereotypes. They don’t expect a leader in a silk dress. They expect a secretary.

That’s the issue. If you have form, people assume you lack function. But I would never play dumb just to be accepted.

Not All Women Want Sisterhood

Some of my harshest critics are women. Not because of what I do, but because of what I represent. I’ve been excluded from circles, patronized, and iced out of professional opportunities. Once, I learned that a senior woman deliberately assigned me low-level tasks, not based on merit, but out of resentment.

It’s not about my appearance. It’s about their pain. I understand that, but I won’t call it friendship or support.

Real sisterhood requires healed women—women who don’t measure worth by inches or social currency. Women who celebrate without comparing. 

And I don’t care if a friend wears a size 0 or a size 24. I care if she’s kind. I care if she can love others without comparison. I care if she walks in authenticity rather than performance.

Body Shame Can Break Us

Body shame is a silent war we all fight, whether we admit it or not. It shapes how we relate to ourselves and others, often building invisible walls where connection should be. When a person carries that shame, every interaction carries emotional baggage like jealousy, judgment, and insecurity, which complicates relationships.

Culture teaches us to externalize our worth and project our pain onto others. We mock, we judge, we exclude, but in doing so, we’re avoiding the harder, more important work of self-acceptance.

And in that avoidance, we miss the essence: every human body is a map of experience. A record of inheritance, resilience, and adaptation. Until we learn to honor this complexity, both in ourselves and in others, nothing truly changes.

Own Your Body, Own Your Power

To love our vessel is an act of rebellion in a culture that profits from our dissatisfaction. It’s not about vanity or complacency. Rather, it’s about recognition. It’s about acknowledging our bodies as complex, miraculous instruments that carry our consciousness through life’s turbulence.

I say this not to glorify being a 0 or any number, but to reclaim respect for our individual journeys—the genetics, the lifestyle, the hard-won peace with self. True confidence isn’t given; it’s cultivated through dedication, awareness, and self-honesty.

Like Jordan Peterson says, “Set your house in perfect order before you criticize the world.” That includes our physical form. Because how we care for it reflects how we move through chaos.

So yes, size 0 is part of my story. But it’s not the point. It’s just the surface. The real power is what lives underneath: discipline, joy, insight, and clarity.

More Than a Number

Why do we criticize Barbie’s impossible figure while avoiding the mirror? Maybe it’s easier to shame plastic than confront what we believe about ourselves. But growth begins with facing that reflection unflinchingly, with compassion and courage.

To every woman reading this: 

You are more than a number. You are a force that is complex, embodied, and uniquely yours.

Own that.

Love that.

And let the world catch up.