I will not always be perfect. I need to be brave in this life and keep pressing on. I need to stop hating myself for everything that I’m not and start loving myself for every little thing that I already am. I’m slowly working on myself for myself all by myself, and I know that I will come out glittering and fabulous! I will be somebody that nobody thought I could be.
Some days I really do think, “Screw this…. I will just be a stripper!” Then I remember that I’m fat…and I can’t really dance. I get out onto the floor wiggling my big butt around with the bass that’s pounding from the speakers. Shaking my ass is the closets I can come to actually dancing. I feel like all eyes are upon me, I am center stage, and that I need to put on the best performance that I have inside of myself. If I fail, I sense that’s all I will be remembered as: the fat girl who can’t dance.
I remember 280. That’s a big number. It’s one of the biggest that has appeared on my scale in these past few months. One would think this number would be my motivation to lose this big butt that I have no fear to sing about at karaoke every week. It is not, though. I don’t really have any right now. I hate my pants. I hope I didn’t have to re-stretch my t-shirts after I wash them. I still make the same wish to one of those fairies out there, who seem to have been on vacation for the past twenty years, the same wish when my head is on my pillow at night: I wish that when I am awake in the morning, my weight on the scale will be a healthy one and every person in my life will think that is how my body has always been. Or I hope that it will be so simple for me to lose five pounds in one day, even if I just sneeze. Or maybe, I should just ask my fairy to finally motivate me to get off of my fat ass and actually try to do what I have been wanting my lazy self to do for these past six months; lose 100 pounds.
However, you all need to leave me alone about it. I don’t want to do any of this when I feel like this topic is brought up, shoved into my face every day. I need to motivate myself. I need to force myself to do this. I should want to do this. I want to be able to climb up a flight of stairs without hunting around for air. I hope to walk into any store and begin to look all around to choose from any of the clothes that are on the racks. I wish to be able to sleep in my boyfriend’s favorite t-shirt. He smells nice. I want my life to be so simple. But nothing seems to be easy.
When I’m just wasting days on my computer, reading through Pinterest for suggestions on how to shred these pounds, still continuing to sit upon my behind, I find other interesting topics that keep my mind happy and drawn off of this matter in life. At times, the random facts I always stumble upon always help me to get through the day. I always ponder if life is too short. I have found that is false. It is the longest thing that I do. Is there really love in the air? False; Nitrogen, oxygen, argon and carbon dioxide are in the air. Growing up, we were all told that the United States is the land of the free, but, that is false. The USA has more prisoners per capita than any other county in this world. Is home really where the heart is? Another fake; the chest cavity is where the heart is. “Shoot for the moon, even if you miss, you will land among the stars.” Wrong! The nearest star is 93 million miles from the moon. Is love really all that you need? Bo-GUS! You need water and food.
These were useless pieces of nothing that I need, but they make me feel that I have added to the emptiness that is filling my head. This emptiness that seems to fill my attention is what I always believe how my stomach feels. I eat breakfast, lunch, dinner and other snacks in between, yet my guy can eat breakfast, wait twelve or more hours to eat dinner. I know that I could wait, but I sometimes wonder what my body wants me to do. Mostly, I’m sure I eat out of boredom. I know that I need to change all of this.
I wasn’t picked on when I was younger. I consider myself lucky. I know when growing up at certain ages, any girl is subject to bullying. I never really had too much trouble walking up to other children and just joining in on the fun. I felt like I was supposed to have a boyfriend while in high school, seeing it always happening on TV shows and other girls. I thought the only reason a guy responded to my smiles was because I wasn’t the same shape as every girl in school. Nonetheless, I did not let myself sink into that hole I knew was trying to drag me down. I joined the school’s theater club to help me onto my happy path.
In my world, I felt awesome. I was able to be up on that stage. I was not judge by my round butt, or wide hips. I did not care that fat hung off my arms or that I had to buy my clothes in the adult woman’s section.
Even in my older years, I am still able to do this. I have days where I critic the way I look more than I’m sure any other person around me is doing. I think I’m more judgmental now about my appearance than I was in my younger years. When I am getting ready to shower, I will stand, pick and pull at every piece of my body in the mirror. I will mentally tell myself that I need to change what is in front of me. Even though there is a person in the other room that I know loves me for me. I still feel that I need to wake up the next day and the body that I have been wishing for, for the past fifteen years is what I hope to see in the mirror. My fat ass will always remain upon my body until my psychic will finally be correct about one thing in my life that I have been going to see her about. When that day happens, a big parade will be held for me and glitter will rain down; I can feel it. Until that day happens, though, just let me continue being me. That’s always still a good thing.