You know you're not supposed to care what other people thing about you. You know it. And sometimes you can apply that knowledge to your life. But sometimes you can't. And those times are rough and fill you with self doubt. And then you get angry because, fuck you, I'm fat. Fucking deal with it.
I do not need canes to maneuver. I can walk up a flight of steps without getting out of breath. I can even buy clothes at Target. Those things considered, it still feels like complete and total shit to discover that you are no longer found attractive. It just flat out hurts.
My dazzling personality, apparently, is no compensation for my extra baggage. In my mind, I'm saying, "Fuck it. Deal with it. Who Cares? I'm worth more than that and you should fucking know that." In my heart, I'm saying, "Ouch."
So, I am embracing my fat even if no one else is. I am not for your viewing pleasure. Don't like how I look? Don't look at me.
2 comments:
I am mad on your behalf. We must get together and discuss. Soon.
You know what, I'm mad on your behalf. Your body made a baby. If that isn't the most amazing thing ever, I don't know what is. And your body is beautiful. So, you're bigger? That means you have awesome big boobs, and a bountiful booty. There are people in the world who look at the larger among us and realize that it means we live good lives, that we are privileged to have good food and not have to toil like slaves. Arg. I'm going to write a book here. I'm mad.
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