In my late teens, one of my first serious boyfriends, someone I was crazy about, thought it was hilarious to describe me as “Rubenesque”. One dictionary defines this as being “suggestive of the painter Rubens or his works … plump or rounded usually in a pleasing or attractive way”. But I didn’t interpret my boyfriend’s comments in any sort of positive way. Even though I was probably only a size 6, I took them on board as a negative, a nudge, a hint; he might as well have pinched my belly and said, “well now, just look at this blubber”.

Then my mother’s voice started to chime in on the subject. Until she had her first child, me, she’d been very thin; maybe a size 2 or 4. Her slender shape was a badge of honor for her. When I started to gain weight after I left home and Mum’s healthy cooking to go away to college, her opinions about my changing body were offered frequently. My age has a “5” in front of it now and she’s still sharing her opinions about my body.

Let’s face it: there’s a great battalion of enemy forces lined up against curvy women … the media, the advertising industry, the beauty and fashion industries, our boyfriends, husbands and partners – and those mothers of ours (typically more so than our fathers). Add in social media, add in weight-losing celebrities like Adele and Rebel Wilson, add in all the voices telling us what an ideal woman should look like, and it’s little wonder that the nastiest, loudest voice, the biggest enemy of all, can become our own voice. The voice in my head? I’ve internalized all those other voices to the point that the one in my head is constantly shouting at me about the alleged deficiencies of my body (well, actually, about the surpluses of my body!)

But what I’m coming to see is that the battalion of enemy voices is swindling us – of our confidence, our self-assurance and our capacity to be the best we can be in the world. They’ve sabotaged our past and will tamper with our futures if we let them.

While we’re bogged down worrying about the false and fatuous “problem” of our curves, we’re not tackling all the wonderful possibilities that life has to offer (our work, our careers, but beyond that – dancing, singing, swimming in the ocean, walking in forests, even cooking, joyful eating …). We’re wasting our time when we get so little of it in life.

Plus, there are facts about weight loss that we need to remind ourselves of whenever those voices threaten to overwhelm us. We need to remind ourselves that for wealthy celebrities such as Adele and Rebel Wilson, sustained weight loss is made possible only thanks to teams of doctors, dietitians, personal chefs and trainers, a luxury few of us have. For those of us without the money to employ that type of wrap-around care, constant yo-yo dieting or dieting that causes rapid weight loss can carry health risks and actually increase the accumulation of body fat, leading to even more rapid weight gain.

In any case, let’s get our feminist groove on: the body type revered in society at any point in history is a construct, a fickle thing. You just need to spend some time in an art museum to see the different representations of ideal women – from rounded prehistoric statues of women to Rubens’ “The Three Graces”, a famous oil painting showing three beautiful fair, curvy women with bellies and bottoms and boobs. In fact, feminist scholars argue that diet culture, the diet industry, is a tool of the patriarchy and that a whole lot of people, mostly men, have made a ton of money out of manipulating women by telling them what’s wrong with their bodies.

Adele was beautiful before she lost weight. Women who could fit three catwalk models in for lunch can be beautiful. Thin women can be unhealthy. Big voluptuous curvy women can be healthy.

For me, I’m not letting that loud voice take over my head anymore. If it creeps in, I tell it to get lost. Doesn’t always work but I’m getting better at it.

And I’m spending more time thinking about celebrating the parts of me I like best: recently I took a makeup class to help me do better eyes … I wasn’t after tips to do a smoky eye, just tips to subtly enhance my blue-violet irises. And, frankly, my boobs aren’t bad either. I’m keeping an eye out for new additions for my wardrobe to bring them to light just a little more.

And I tell you what else I’m planning on doing with my curves: I’m going to start to regard them with the same eye that someone in the 17th century looking at Rubens glorious painting “The Three Graces” might have, an eye that sees them simply lovely.

Stephanie Wood is a Sydney writer and author. Find her on Instagram or subscribe to her weekly newsletter

Photos: Shutterstock