No one loves you. In my experience of being morbidly obese for practically my whole life- all 24 years, I’ve come to the conclusion that other than those who are obligated to love you, nobody truly does. Friends have come and gone, partners have come and gone. People don’t sit next to you in class or on the bus or at a meeting. Every inch of my being is invalidated because I’m fat. And then you know what happens? You eat because you’re so fucking lonely. It’s the definition of a vicious cycle. Society is so fucked up that my worth as a person with a beating heart, a pair of lungs, and a beautiful brain has been diminished to my waist size.
I’m automatically stupid, incapable, ‘really cute for a bigger person’ and unable to keep up with thinner populations. I’ve had to be twice as smart and twice as capable to achieve anything. I have to cloak my body so my rolls and arm fat don’t show. To keep the illusion up that I’m not actually fat, I’m just ‘big’. Every single one of my actions is calculated so that I don’t appear to be as fat as I am because otherwise, people don’t take me seriously.
AND I’M FUCKING SICK OF IT. I wish I could say that I don’t care, that I love myself more than I hate this struggle. And I do love myself. I love myself a lot. But this struggle has beaten me down. It has stripped away my soul. It’s torn apart every inch of my being. And it’s still not enough. You know what the joke of it all is? That even my struggle is invalidated because it’s healthier to be skinny so why wouldn’t I want to lose weight?
I don’t even own my fight.