Double standards exist. As a woman and a minority, I have encountered my fair share of double standards and, unfortunately, am accustomed to dealing with them as best I can. Recently, however, I met my proverbial match as far as double standards go.

I have a problem with my weight. I hate my body! Not very long ago, I went shopping at a particular store. I spent a grueling hour inside, grimacing at mirrors and willing a myriad of different things to fit. A saleswoman helpfully suggested trying a different size. I thanked her for the effort, but still chose items in the size I wanted. By spring, I told her, I will definitely be able to fit everything.

My physical insecurity was something I felt at ease speaking to my girlfriends about, thinking I would be met with understanding and camaraderie. Yet, with every attempt to chime in on weight discussions, I have gotten sneers and vicious passive-aggressive verbal jabs.

You see, the issue I have with my body is on an apparently enviable end of the spectrum. I need to gain weight. At the time of this writing, I am roughly 15 pounds less than the lowest weight considered healthy for my build.

The size the saleswoman suggested? Zero.

Among other things, an overactive metabolism and a high level of stress lend themselves to my slightness of frame. Thinness is not something I idealize or work to achieve. In fact, I would be much happier with at least that extra fifteen pounds on my frame, as would my physician.

According to some of the women I know, this isn’t a problem. Not only is it not a problem, but it offends them that I regard it as such. A few have even called me ungrateful, and now—when I attempt in all honesty to reassure them that I find them beautiful at their respective sizes—these “friends” glare at me disbelievingly, as if I'm mocking them.

I have to admit that I know being overweight is worse on the body than being slightly underweight. And, yes, according to the media, my figure is great. How nice. How much nicer it would be if I didn't look at most girls in the public eye and think them too skinny. Do you think agents of media care if they're selling an unhealthy body image, so long as they're selling something?

Being excessively skinny is not good. My body cannot regulate its temperature. At my current weight, it cannot keep itself warm. If you have ever been so cold that you felt physical pain from the tensing of your muscles and the intensity of your shivering, that's winter for me and people like me.

The strength of my immune system, too, has taken a hit. When I get sick, I get really sick. I also fatigue quickly and bruise easier than a banana. Like an overweight person, I'm at higher risk for heart troubles. Why? Because being too far on either end of the scale is a strain on the body and, left untended, an incredible health risk.

This might sound painless to remedy, but adding pounds can be as much a struggle as getting rid of them. Like a dieter, I have changed how I eat. I have to hit the gym; lifting weights is one of the many ways I am attempting to bulk up. Gaining weight the healthy way calls for the same level of dedication and hard work as losing it, hard as that may be to believe.

Whenever I try to explain this to my girlfriends, they roll their eyes. They suck their teeth. They make nasty comments about my body and then pad them by adding they wished they shared my overactive metabolism. Then, the same women who complain about the difficulties of weight loss casually tell me not to complain and just “Eat more!” Aside from how trivializing it is, imagine the reaction I would get if ever I responded to their complaints with “Eat less!”

Meet the double standard. To my friends, waving off my concerns and even making me the target of tasteless anorexia jabs is fine. Knowing that they want to be slimmer, they claim, should prevent me from being offended. A new variation of, “It’s cool, some of my best friends are black,” perhaps?

However, at the same time, they think it is okay to treat their self-esteem problems as a subject I, the “skinny” girl, dare not mention at all. Do I even have to point out the hypocrisy?

Personally, I would love to go up at least two sizes. I understand that some women would like the opposite, but I have never resented my fuller-figured friends for their bodies, and certainly not faulted them for having what I want. Why, because thinness stands as the accepted ideal, should the opposite be acceptable? Of all the issues in the world to divide us, I only wish my girlfriends had picked one worthier.