I remember being a teenager looking through Cosmopolitan magazine in the lobby of my dentist’s office
“What is your body type?" one of the articles asked.
There they listed 4 shapes: Apple, Pear, Hourglass and a Square.
I looked down at my boyish physique:
I’m a square, I thought to myself.
I am a Mexican American and grew up admiring women with tons of curves.
Lots of apples, pears and hourglasses poured through the front door every Christmas Eve,
But I was the only square.
A couple days later I sat in Geometry glass, learning about angles.
Every time I connected 4 corners, I thought – That’s you.
That’s what you look like.
I don’t think anyone wants to look like a square.
But as I grew older, I learned to love my figure.
This curveless frame has carried me up and down mountains.
Its scaled sheer cliffs and propelled me through choppy bodies of water.
Overtime, I learned to look in the mirror and see possibilities instead of flaws.
The beautiful things I could do with this boxy body allowed me to observe all its goodness staring back at me.
Now, I will still forever be wooed by the figures of the apples, pears and hourglasses who flock to my abuelo’s house for Sunday dinners,
But as a square,
I will always remember something that I learned back in that Geometry class:
Though I don’t have any curves,
I sure do have all the right angles.
(And there’s your corny math joke for the day. You’re welcome)