Fat Essay

Essay to myself - Written Dec. 1999

For as long as I can remember, I was never as dainty as my friends. I was always the big girl... blubber... hippo... whale...cow...pig...I can remember being able to pick up and carry around the little boys I liked. I can remember hiding in books when no one would sit with me at lunch. I can remember being spit on, being hit, being laughed at, being ignored, being ridiculed...I can also remember laughing, singing, dancing....childhood trauma is a blur.

I remember the "dating years" in high school. I watched my waifish friends kiss in the hallways, hold hands at lunch, share stories of sexual exploration. I remember avoiding the locker rooms, looking longingly at the cheerleaders and their pert little asses, crying myself to sleep. I remember having my first boyfriend, feeling so relieved, feeling so desperate to call it love. I remember being dumped over the phone...crying for months...I was the talk of the school..."poor little fat girl"...I remember going to the prom without ever being kissed.

I remember standing ovations when I took my bows, dancing with the teacher I loved while jealous on-lookers sneered. I remember singing at the top of my lungs, filling the world with my voice, I remember strangers winking at me, friends holding me, night-time drives through the city, laughter, sodas at 4am. I remember the joy...There were times of joy...

I remember being miserable. I refused to diet, I had and have no willpower to change my ways. I remember laying on my bed, trying to pull up my jeans with a coat hanger. I remember the day when I finally decided to give up on the "Junior" section of Sears, and head for Lane Bryant. There I found clothes that made me feel beautiful. Fitted, delicate, colorful, young.

I remember a boy falling in love with me...ME?.... for the first time...a boy that loved me for who I was, with no thoughts of hurting me, or using me... or so I believed. I remember losing that love....

I remember falling in love for the first time, myself. I remember my first kiss. I remember feeling sexy, confidant, empowered. I remember my childhood dreams of wedding bells not seeming so distant and impossible.

He loves me....I love myself....

I am 19. I am fat, chubby, round, rotund, obese, portly, squishy, big, soft, zaftig, curvy, buxom, fat. I am beautiful. I am growing.
To the demons of my past...I am wining...in fact, I've won. I survived.

Note June 2003: My ex-fiancé and I broke up in May of 2002, which saddened me greatly, but I've found a precious love with a wonderful boy that makes me feel lovelier than ever. When my fiancé left me I nearly stumbled from the path to self-love that he'd started me on, but now I'm determined to love myself without depending on someone else's approval. I'm engaged again to the most amazing man I've ever met and I've never been so happy in all of my life. But my joy comes from within, and no one will ever rob me of that again. So I wear a size 18-20...who cares? I'm beautiful.

Note October 2004: I'm still fighting this lifelong battle for self love and pride. I live with my fiancé now, and I'm enjoying my role as a strong female figure in my community. I work for a feminist organization and I'm using all of my passion and my training to help empower youth (young girls particularly) to walk with pride, intelligence, and freedom. I'm 24. I'm still a big girl. I'm still loved for who I am...and sometimes I'm not. But, no matter what, I'm surviving and I'm thriving. I'll never fall into the shadows again.

Life...I think I've learned a thing or two about it. Life is not about how many people call you now that you're out of high-school. It's not about how many or how few people you've dated, people you've slept with, people you've kissed. It's not about what role you get in a play, what job you land, what the man at the end of the bar thinks of your ass. It's not about your dress size, your hair color, your skin color, or how much your thighs rub together when you walk. Life is not about what college you got into, how much money you make, the clothes you wear...life isn't even about whether or not you have lots of friends, if you're popular, if you stay home on Friday nights. Life just isn't about that...it's not a popularity contest.

Life...I certainly have learned a thing or two. Life is about who you love and who you are cruel to. It's about how you see yourself. It's about how trustworthy you are, how much compassion you have, how much joy you create. It's about standing up for what's right, casting aside jealousy, striving to overcome ignorance, and daring to dream. It's about truth. It's about seeing inner beauty in others and in yourself. It's about touching lives. It's about choice. It's about freedom.