When Did “Fat” Become the Real F Word?

Why do we force words to live exclusively from one another?
Why can fat not mean beautiful?

I recently remembered something from when I was in the sixth grade. There was a girl in my class who was a bit bigger than most of the other students in our class. I remember hearing the way that the other students spoke about her, the mean jokes they would make behind her back, and the almost as cruel things they would say to her face. I remember noticing that she was being treated differently and in a negative way because of her size.

I decided then that I would never let myself look a way that would give other people an opportunity to treat me poorly. I wish I had taken this experience in a different way, as an example of people I never wanted to be like. I never would want to be treated like this classmate, but the lesson I learned was not to be kind to people, it was to never become fat enough to allow people be cruel to me.

I used to be so scared of the word fat because we live in a society that equates fat to ugly, or less than. I was scared of the idea of gaining weight because I thought that if I did then I would also become ugly or less than. We live in a society that puts limits on what words can be. I was more scared of being fat than I was of being a bad person, of being considered rude or mean, and I was scared of being fat more than I was worried about getting bad grades.

I was eleven when I learned that our world says that being fat is bad. I was eleven when I became afraid of gaining weight. I remember it like it was yesterday, and one day I hope to not be afraid. But for now, I will remember to be kind, and to stand up for those who are mistreated. I do not view gaining weight as the end all and be all of my life, and there are now many things I consider to worse things than ganging weight, but I am still somewhat uncomfortable with the idea of it. So until the day I am not afraid, I will choose to be kind and to reject cruelness.

A Termination Letter to my Eating Disorder

Dear ED,

It’s been a long run, but fortunately, I have decided that it is time we part ways. Certain events have led me to decide that you are no longer an asset to the organization that is my life. You have been with me for much longer than I initially realized; we first met when I was a young girl. But despite the length of our relationship – dysfunctional as it is – I stand firm in my decision to let you go. I am going to explain this in detail to you, in hopes that these specifics will avoid me letting someone else like you into my life.

An eight year old girl should not live her life sucking in her stomach. A ten year old girl should not think that the amount of love she receives is correlated to her size. A twelve year old girl who grew very tall very fast should not have learned to fear stretch marks the same way people fear violence. A thirteen year old girl in Florida should not go to the beach in shorts and a tank top because she was scared to show her skin. A nineteen year old girl should not be throwing up her meals. A nineteen year old girl should not be on the verge of passing out in her office because of how hungry she was. A girl on the eve of her twentieth birthday should not have been looking up the calories in food at the restaurant she was going to tomorrow. A twenty year old girl should not have an Internet history full of diets, workout plans and eating disorder communities. A twenty year old girl should not cry at the thought of trying on clothes in a fitting room at the mall. A twenty year old girl should not become paralyzed with fear at the idea of going swimming. A twenty one year old girl should not avoid seeing her friends and hide in her apartment because she thinks she is too fat to be seen in public. Yet these are all things that I was. These are all things that I did because of you.

I made a realization recently, and it was one that brought to light just how long you have been a part of me. I realized that I do not remember a time where I have not felt as big as I am now. The weight I have gained since we began drifting apart may be visibly new, but I have long felt that it was a part of me. Why? Well ED, this is where you come in. You brainwashed me into thinking seeing a false reflection when I looked in the mirror. You told me that losing weight that wasn’t there would make me happier, more liked, more deserving of love. But no matter how much weight I lost you always told me to lose more, or that it wasn’t;t enough. I realize now that the happiness, popularity and love that you promised me were nothing but false promises.

You stole something from me. You stole confidence that I never had the chance to develop. Before I ever had a chance to feel good about myself you were there telling me I had never been good enough and would never be good enough. You were there telling me that everyone around me was judging me, staring at the fat I did not have but you made me believe was there. You were there for birthdays, graduations, prom, school, happy moments, sad moments, embarrassing moments and moments I should have felt proud. You stole memories from me.

I never realized these things at the times they occurred because you made me think that I needed you. You were constantly reinforcing the notion that one day I would be worthy of thinness and all the joys that came with it. But what you did not tell me was that one day would never come. You never told me that you were the most abusive relationship I had ever been in. You never told me that you were a master manipulator. You never told me that you could tell a lie with the ease of an Academy Award winning actress. You never told me that I could have a life without you and now I finally see that I can.

I never thought I would see the day that I would be able to leave you behind. I never thought I would be able to tell you these things. I never thought that I would be able to walk away from you. I never thought that I would love myself enough to say, you’re fired.

I renounce you of any power you held over me. I free myself of any holds you had on my mind, body, and spirit. I am in control now, the way it should have been all along.

Goodbye, and good riddance,
Emma

 

I Wasn’t Even Good Enough at Being Sick

I thought that
because I could not
count each of my 
ribs,
that I was not sick.

I was not
keeping down more 
than one meal a day
but that one meal
made me
believe
that I was not sick.

I searched for
hours and
looked at pictures of girls
who were ill and I
saw that I did not look like
them
so I decided that I was not sick.

So I hid and I
told myself that
until I could count
all if my bones
and I was passing out,
that only then would I
be sick.

Prioritize

A life should not
be spent trying
to become the richest, or the
thinnest, or the most
well known. 

A life should not
be spent purging one’s
self of empathy, love
and warmth;
and bingeing on
followers, and unattainable
standards.

Because at the
end of the day
and at the end of
the world,
our bones will
all decay the same.

When Less is Less

The real killer
is the notion
that a woman
is made to be
wroth less
with each pound gained. 

Conundrum

The notion that you 
must be “good enough”
for someone else
will lead you down dark paths. 

It will lead you to
men who will hurt,
use and undermine you. 

It will lead you to
meals unfinished and
a weight that is never low enough

It will lead you to
jobs that do not
value or fulfill you. 

It will lead you to
nights alone with
nothing but wine and tears.

It will lead you to
fresh wounds at the surface
and wounds never tended to at the core.

It will lead you to 
being fearful of
living a full life. 

It will lead you to
reflections of yourself
that you do not like or recognize. 

You are uniquely you
and so full of potential;
once you realize you are “good enough”
for you, 
the rest of your world will follow.

The Villain & The Hero

I am a warrior.
I am marked from battle. 
I have seen high and lows.
I have risen to challenges.
I know the battle will be lifelong. 
I know at times I will falter. 
I will weather any storm.
I will stay true to myself even when I do not know who I am. 
I am the writer of this story. 
I am enemy number one. 

Red

I dreaded the day I
would become a woman.
That dark red spot
was another thing to hate my body for.
It was another thing I
was not in control of.
It meant I was physically
ready for things I could not fathom.
It meant my body could
belong to a man,
when I did not even
want it.

We Gave Them Strings

Words did not
start out as
bad or good. 
Society changes them
to suit their needs;
and tells us what
is bad and 
what is good.
Like fat
is bad
and like skinny
is good. 
They started out
as words;
then they
were given a 
life of their own.

He Waits

I have never
truly
loved myself. 

I always
manage
to find a flaw. 

That is why
when you say
you love me,

I ask you
to explain 
why.

I did not 
think
there was anything
about me
that anyone
could love,
because at one point
or another
i hated every
part of me. 

But then you
showed me
that there is
beauty in the
broken ones,
and you put me
back together
and now you
wait patiently
for me to see
what you do.