Hi I’m fat and no, that doesn’t give you the right to laugh

Hi, I’m fat and I have stretch marks on but body but doesn’t everybody?

Hi, I’m fat and I was told to lose weight because no one would love me if I was overweight

I was five years old when my parents decided it was time for me to go on a diet, and twelve years later I wonder why my body is still a riot

But of course I never knew that something was wrong with my body until people at my school laughed at me behind my back because I was so hefty

I was fourteen when a boy started hinting that he liked me but because of my size, we could never be

Hi, I’m fat and I love food but that doesn’t make me crude or a gluttonousness prude.

Hi, I’m fat and I’m beautiful but no one ever told me that because of my pounds. No, to everyone I was a clown.

A clown to laugh at and make fun of because of the layers of fat on my body; to spat at, to ridicule, to humiliate, to dehumanize because of the sole reason that I am heavier than other people.

I was sixteen years old when I first discovered that collarbones was a trend that everyone wanted to show off and be a part of but how could I when all I did was eat during the weekend? How could I wear those skinny jeans and cropped tops like the ones in magazines when I felt my body pulled together by seams?

Hi I’m fat and sometimes I wish my weight dropped as fast as my self-esteem but of course I can’t tell you that because it’s either you’ll say “no you’re not fat, you’re just healthy”  or maybe you’ll be one of those people to say that “yeah, you should lose weight, like maybe ten, twenty or even more plenty.”

Hi, I’m fat and in middle school there was this girl named Chelsea who always made fun of my belly.

Hi, I’m fat and no, maybe I don’t need food, maybe what I need is control, or so that’s what society says and I’m sorry for being rude but why can’t I just love my body with my heart and soul without getting anxiety because of the eyes that watch over me every time I open my mouth to eat.

Why can’t I just feel happy about my size and not be judge for not starving myself by those critical eyes? Why can’t I just love myself and my weight and not care if society approves or not?

 No, I don’t want to skip dinner so I can wake up thinner – no, I don’t want to hate the person I see every time I look at a mirror – no, I don’t want to be smaller and live off water.

What I want is to be happier without getting thinner. What I want is to be told I’m beautiful without the phrase “shame that you’re not skinner though” following it. Or maybe I’m the problem and I should just let it go?

Maybe, just maybe I should just accept that I will never be accepted because of the letters F – A – T that marks my soul for all eternity. But why should I? Why should I put down my food, ingest those tiny little pills, starve myself and pray to God that I get skinny?

Hi, I’m fat and yes, I’m going to love myself without the frustrations and the humiliations of being called “fatty”

Hi, I’m fat and no, I don’t care about your opinion because contrary to what society thinks, I’m perfect just the way that I am and yes, that is F – A - T! FAT!  

Published by Ghela Marie