Sorry, but I’m not sorry if my fat body offends you
I am one of those who have a “addiction”. In the sense that under the surface of a little plump girl lies a really fat lady who is just waiting for an excuse to break out.
Yes, there are many people like me in the world, and life with us is continuous fluctuations. You probably thought about how we lose weight and gain weight. But that’s not the point.
It’s about our perception of ourselves and our feelings about it. And the older we get, the more indifferent we are to this.
Here it is necessary to move again from “we” to personal experience, so that you don’t think that I know exactly how everyone else like me on earth feels.
When you are constantly plump or fat, you are very sensitive about weight, or like an iron wall of apathy. And when I’m apathetic, I have great self-esteem.
This is the funniest thing. When I don’t obsessively worry about my weight, I feel the happiest. But in moments like this, my personal happiness conflicts with the judgment of everyone else.
For example, recently I came to my mother’s home, where I had not been for about a year. One of her first questions was: “Well, are you still on a diet?”
I certainly didn’t have an answer, because I was shocked that my size still worries her.
“No, no more dieting,” I could say and hear her sigh of disappointment hidden under the grin. Or I could say yes and see the same disappointment and grin.
In any case, if I have not succeeded in becoming what I will never be, I will always receive the same answer with the meaning: “Your weight worries me.”
So I said, “Has my fat ruined your day again, Mom? Because I have to tell you that if my fat has to fight your condemnation, we will be at an impasse, because my fat is not going anywhere soon. And, as I see, your condemnation too. “
The strangest thing is, by fat standards, I’m not even that fat. But I’m chubby enough to be a nuisance to people like my mom.
She is naturally thin and could never accept that I am not the same by nature. But this is not only her – this is a whole conveyor of disapproving looks from people who are just waiting to tear you apart. And my mom is at least honest in her disgust for my body.
I am especially amused when someone says: “I am worried about your health.” For God’s sake! So are you justifying your disapproval by putting an emotional stamp on your inability to live and allow others to live?
What if I say I’m as healthy as a horse? Will you start praying that diabetes will come to me as soon as possible, to say: “I told you so”?
I remember when I just gave birth to my beautiful daughter and sat with her on the porch of our house. It was summer, I was in a light dress. My father smiled at the baby and said to me, looking at my legs: “What are you going to do with this?” This? You mean my legs? What am I supposed to do with them? Cut off? Change? Rent new ones until I can afford the normal permanent ones? WHAT?
I remember thinking that everything that I represent, that I create, what a good person I am, how talented, what kind of child I gave birth to – all this pales against the background of the fact that my legs look ugly, and my father looks like his now vomit from the sight of them. Wow.
I recently told my mom about this during my “Are you still dieting?” visit to her, and she stared at me in horror, as if she had just heard something the most terrible in the world. I just looked at her with innocent eyes and chuckled inwardly at how blind people were to their own destructive behavior.
How many times have I heard her call me “fat ass”? How could she not understand that she was contributing to my terrible self-esteem?
My fat has been ruining people’s moods for years, especially my parents. I even wonder what I would become if they told me that I am perfect the way I am.
Because the funny thing is, I’ve always loved myself, but never loved the way I look.
I am constantly working on this relationship with my body. Inside me is a beautiful crumpet. She put me through cancer and chemotherapy. She walked me through labor. Some people even like it. Not to my parents, but to some people.
And if I had a chance to start over in another body – in a thin body – I would refuse.
Because this body is a house in which I live and experience a wonderful life, only in this body, not in a thin one, not in a model, not in a body with cool legs. Only my body.
At the end of the trip to my mother, she told me: “You look good. You have beautiful skin, you look young. ” And I said: “Do you know why I look young and I have good skin? It’s because I’m chubby! My skin is plump and youthful because I am at my correct weight. If I lose weight the way you want, the skin will sag and there will be many wrinkles. The body will hang from me, I will look like an ancient relic. I look good, Mom, because I’m fat. “
I’m just a chubby girl. If it ruins your day, move on. I don’t care what you think anymore, it doesn’t affect my happiness or my self-esteem.
So please keep your diabetes experiences and wishes to yourself, project your endless disappointments in the mirror, where I am sure they originate.