I think this post has been a long time coming. I know it’s been rattling around in my head in the shape of a blog post for a couple of weeks now, and before then… Well, it’s been my life for as long as I can remember. I hate that I think about it the way I do, but I can’t seem to not think that way. That’s not going to make sense without explaining what I’m talking about, so let me do that.
Here’s the thing. I’m fat. There’s no denying, I just know it’s true. I’ve been fat since I was a kid. I was never into sports. I hated gym class, when I had the chance to be in one. Most of the time I attended small schools that didn’t really have much as far as gym. And while my family didn’t eat out all the time, we never really focused too much on eating healthy. So I never really got in shape or ate all that healthy. When I was around 20 or so, I started trying to lose some weight and actually got down to a pretty reasonable size, even though I still felt fat, and according to my BMI, I was. And then, years later I started dating a guy that got me into drinking beer, and I’ve gained back most of what I lost. And I hate it.
Here’s why I hate it. And I hate that I hate it. Here’s what I think about being fat. Fat people… Well, they’re people. They are no different than skinny people. They are normal. Fat women can be just as beautiful as skinny women. They are still people. I have fat friends and skinny friends, and I see them no differently. They’re all just people.
That’s what I think. Now, here’s how I feel. I feel that because I’m fat, I’m different from normal people. I feel like I’m not as good as skinnier people, which seems like most people to me. I feel like I’m lazy. I feel like I don’t live up to society’s expectations, which is that everyone should be a “normal” size. I feel like because I’m fat, I’m automatically not pretty. I feel like because I have a hard time losing weight, that I’m a loser and a failure. I kind of feel like I’m hopeless, that I will never be normal or I will never be as good as thinner people, and that thoughts hit me since I was a teenager, luckily we found polaris residential treatment programs for teens that helped with these feelings.
Do I agree with the way I feel? No, it’s not what I really think. It’s very hard to get my feelings to line up with my thoughts. Every once in a while I have a good day, a day where I actually feel confident in myself and realize that I’m awesome and worth something, and that my weight has nothing to do with that. But most days, I feel like a loser for not losing weight (ironic, huh?) and like I’m just lazy because I hate exercising and usually end up doing something else instead. Most days, I feel like a failure because I love pizza and beer and don’t want to eat boring, healthy food. Most days, I continually battle depression because I look in the mirror and see the extra pounds that “normal” women don’t have.
And oddly enough, I don’t know that I blame society for this. I’m not all about that. I take responsibility for myself. I take responsibility for looking the way I do. I know it’s my own fault. But what I hate is that I should feel this way about it. Because just because I’m fat, I’m not any less of a person. I am still entitled to be loved and feel like I’m awesome and worth just as much as that skinny person down the street. Being fat doesn’t make me any less of a person. But I feel like it does. And I wish I didn’t feel that way. But somehow, I just can’t seem to make that feeling go away. So I continue to struggle. And maybe one of these days, fat or skinny, I will eventually somehow find the way to feel good enough. Maybe.