I am fat.
There. I said it. I’ve admitted what everyone else has seen. What everyone else has said is the worst thing about me. About how ugly and stupid I am for being fat. How everyone has judged me and found me worthless.
Why am I fat? I am not a pig. I don’t gorge myself. I don’t eat that much sugar. I don’t drink soda at all. I like certain veggies and I eat protein. I don’t eat cereal or pasta or prepackaged foods. I can’t stamd potato chips. I rarely eat candy.
But I’m fat.
So of course I’m doing something wrong. It must be too much sugar or eating portions that are too big or too many calories. Remember, being fat is a moral failing.
But I’m fat.
I’m fat because I really am ugly.
I’m fat because I really am stupid.
I’m fat because I don’t want to be thin.
I’m fat because I was abused.
I am fat because food never made me feel ashamed of myself.
I’m fat because food is constantly being used as a weapon.
I’m fat because I’m unlovable.
I’m fat because I was not loved.
I am fat because I was bullied in school.
I’m fat because I never fit in.
I’m fat because I want born a girl and not a boy.
I’m fat because I’m surrounded by fat people who hate me because they hate themselves.
I’m fat because my mother constantly told me I was fat growing up.
I am fat.
Do I need a reason?
Remember, being fat is a moral failing so of course I need a reason, need to explain myself.
But do I hate my body?
It isn’t perfect but I’m used to it.
I think pretty is overrated. I refuse to wear makeup to cater to a sexist agenda of beauty and youth. What you see is what you get.
I think the BMI is useless and worthless and way too judgmental.
I think fashion designers and celebrities get it wrong.
So yeah, I’m probably only good enough to be the evil and ugly step-sister and even then I’m too ugly.
Guys aren’t interested in me.
Women ignore me or hate me.
People don’t want me around.
But food doesn’t care. It has no vested interest in anything. So it’s easy to go to for soothing. No judgments, no shaming, no name calling. It he’s no agenda, no politics, no meaning. Food just exists. It’s just there.
In the end, I’m still fat.