We’ve all heard them. The skinny girls who think they are fat. The ones who look amazing in anything they wear, but always have that 10 pounds that they can’t drop. How annoying is that? How frustrating are they? I mean, look at ME. According to my medical record, I am “morbidly obese.” What does your medical record say “morbidly perfect?” Seriously, get a grip with reality. Learn to be happy in your skin and stop bitching about how imperfect you THINK you are. How would you like to be me, who, whenever I look at a number on a scale, I see this rather than weight:
Disgusting. Fat bitch. Crazy. Ugly. Useless. Unlovable. Unlovable. Unlovable. Unlovable. Unlovable.
Honestly, though, these are my issues. My internal dialogue. Not yours. They are words I have said to myself for so long. They have complicated relationships and ruined friendships. But that’s me. Not you. What you think of me is a reflection of you. Not me. I ask you to not judge me for being overweight. But does that give me a right to judge you for not being overweight? Think about it.
My truth is just that: mine. Your truth should be yours. Just because you are thin, does not mean you are perfect. If you feel that you have a few pounds to lose, you should be able to say that. Because it is your body, your insecurities. What you feel about your body should not cause me to feel worse about mine.
I’ve realized that, no matter what, we each have something about ourselves that we would like to change. I ask that you not judge me, and in return I will try to not judge you. We are all here, in this life, for a short amount of time. Why waste it comparing yourself to others? Our bodies are not meant to be the same as anyone else’s. As women, we are meant to have curves. Some smaller (or bigger) than others. Isn’t that the beauty of a woman’s body? And why is it so hard to embrace those curves? We are imperfectly perfect, created to sustain and nurture life. A work of art. Beauty, in the eye of the beholder, is different for each of us. My body, MY BODY, is beautiful. Beautiful for all that it has been through, beautiful for all it has done. It is worn and tattered in spots, but ageless and timeless in others. It is a book, stories written all over it. Tales of love, heartache, hope, and loss. A history written by me, for me. And it is up to me to decide how beautiful it is.