My Life, My Rules

“Oh, you have a great personality,” “you have a pretty face,” and “I prefer larger ladies like yourself.” These are some of the things I’ve heard repeatedly from friends, family and guys who are interested in me. You’d think I would be enthusiast about these comments, but in fact, it hurts more than just saying “you’re fat.” 

I haven’t been a healthy weight since I was roughly six or seven, and while most people blame the parents at that age, it was my own doing, and as an excuse, it was a coping mechanism for childhood trauma I had experienced. It was excuse after excuse for me, up until a few months ago when I finally accepted the fact that I needed to change. Excuses only work once, and after that, everyone knows you’re pretty much full of shit.

I continued for years to gain, and lose repeatedly until I reached an all-time low in my mental illness. Sure, losing weight boosted my confidence a little, but not much. No amount of weight off of my body would suffice. I’ve dropped 76lbs since August of last year, and am currently stuck in a plateau stage. I’m still far off from where I want to be, and it will be at least another year to a year and a half for me to get there. 

I’m glad other people are confident and happy being overweight, but I am not. I see the damage it causes and how utterly disgusting can be. I don’t want to lose limbs from gangrene, I don’t want to end up wearing tarp like clothing just so something fits, and frankly, I am disgusted with myself for getting as heavy as I was, and currently am. I don’t want to die young, especially from something preventable. What is glamorous about heart disease, lack of mobility, and diabetes?

Absolutely nothing.

After watching my mom deal with type one diabetes, even with her being an overall healthy woman, I don’t want that. She suffers day in and day out, and if I can physically prevent it, I will. I refuse to continue to be another statistic. I deserve true happiness and I will continue to drop weight until I have achieved it. I am not happy in my current state no matter how much I’ve tried to pretend I have been.

I’ve developed PCOS, which could have been prevented. Once I lose that weight, I know it will go away and my chances for any of the obesity related diseases will go down. My only hope is that once I’m done, I haven’t already developed these diseases. I have a lot to live for, and I want more than anything else to play music for a living because it’s been a dream of mine for 20+ years. No one takes you seriously, especially being female, if you’re overweight. Sure, they may like your vocals, but any other interest in you is simply materialistic. What can she give me if she gets anywhere?
I’ve spent days in bed because of my

depression and anxiety. I was terrified to go out and be around people because I didn’t want to be ridiculed. I hate the way m clothes fit, I hate looking at myself in the mirror, and I hate this feigned happiness I’ve been portraying. Since dropping 76lbs, I’ve got lose skin, and it’s especially noticeable in my arms. It’s humiliating. I know that lose skin is inevitable, and there are ways (light weights, more reps) to rid of it. 

I’m sure I’ll catch shit for this because I’m technically “body shaming” even though it’s just myself. The reality is, is that I am NOT body shaming, but I am talking about the cold, hard reality of being overweight. I want people to like me for me, not just ‘like’ me out of pity.
One other thing: please, for the love of all things sacred, stop telling me to accept and love my body because you enjoy being fat. Stop telling me that people will use and abuse me if I lose weight. I’ve been used and abused being overweight, and I’d rather be confident in myself and happy with my body the way I want to look. I refuse to stay fat to fit your agenda. I am my own person, and I deserve a life in a body I like and happiness in who I am.

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