I wish this could be a humorous post about getting up in the morning on Monday and feeling grumpy and annoyed and brain dead, but no such luck for either of us.
No, this is going to be a post about my body.
I’ll start with the fact that there is a reason every mirror in my house is hung so as to show me from the shoulders up. Anyone who is shorter than I am is SOL for using my mirrors, because they are lucky to see themselves eye-to-eye in them.
But this morning I got a glance at my torso in the reflection of the window when I opened the blinds, and that was that — because I’m fat, and I loathe my body. There is no way to put it politely, or kindly: hate is nearly not strong enough a word.
Because I’m fat, I don’t deserve nice clothes. I don’t deserve nice people, either. I don’t deserve money or success. I certainly don’t deserve sympathy, kindness or love.
That is all arguable, of course, and I argue it every day. It’s easier to argue it when I can’t actually see myself though, and when I do see myself, the argument falls apart completely.
Now, it’s de rigour to blame your mother for these types of things, I mean it’s really a trope of self-analysis. In this case, though, it’s also accurate. She had me on calorie-restricted diets starting when I was an adolescent. She only bought me nice clothes when I lost weight and would look “presentable” in them. She made it clear that no one respectable or worthy would date me if I was fat. Ironically, she also taught me by example that I should only exercise in public when I was thin enough not to be laughed at.
Essentially, I believe that my being fat means that I am less than human, unworthy and pathetic. It is an emotional box I cannot figure out how to get out of.
I’m not looking for pity or sympathy or even help on this. It is just the way it is…and it’s exhausting. I hate being fat, and I hate that I hate myself for something I have so little control over.* I don’t want to be scared of success or dating or clothes.
But I am, and on days like today, I push forward, wondering why I bother doing anything at all.
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* Yes, “so little control over.” If you are so ignorant as to think that losing weight and keeping it off is easy, then please do us both a favor and fuck off. Believe it or not, I’ve heard all the weight loss platitudes before. You have no idea what I eat, how I exercise, or the supplements I take, and in that void of ignorance, you should shut up. Instead, maybe you should ask yourself why it is so important to you to blame and shame overweight people by implying they are lazy, gluttonous, and mentally broken when the science behind obesity suggests something quite different.
