the body suite


When I was in Berkeley, I took a break from one of the information sessions for admitted students and went downstairs to the bookstore. I had realized that I hadn’t purchased any paraphernalia from any of the schools to which I had been admitted and I had always liked the Berkeley clothes that I’d seen at other students at Swarthmore. It was a typical shopping experience for me; I looked around, sort of scoffing at the expensiveness of most of the things I actually liked, before settling on the generic Berkeley sweatshirt that most people at Swat are prone to seeing me in, now. (I’m actually wearing it now.) Yet, I couldn’t find my size – M. There was either S, the size I eventually bought, and XL. As I looked at the XLs. I found this annoying, and asked the cashier if they had any Mediums in the back. She responded with a stern “No.” I then told her that it’s always so hard to find my size, although they had tons of XLs, a size I used to be able to fit long ago. And it was at that moment that I suppose she really looked at me, instead of giving a sort of rote response. And then she said “Wow, I could never imagine you in an XL.”

Many people at Swarthmore would not recognize the 11th grade Xavier if we were to randomly appear on campus one day, take a stroll across McGill, or sit in the BCC and wait to be seen. They would probably think he was one of my mythical siblings (everyone always assumes I’m an only child, and I’m not; I have three siblings.) I was far larger and far more aware of my body back then, and the pseudoconfidence I may exude now in this trimmer, slimmer form may fool you into believing that all aspects of that person, who existed for so much longer than the one who exists now, are gone or have been permanently changed. But that isn’t even remotely the case.

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