I’m obese. Im obese to the extent my lungs no longer functions as it should. I’m obese by observation where you see my fat rolls hanging uncomfortably off me as a Christmas tree has its tinsel and trimmings. By the intricate designs of stretch marks and abused skin weathering.
When did it start. It started with my comfort eating of crying every evening because I wasn’t good enough. I wasn’t pretty enough. I had my tub of ice cream a large spoon that raked up all my insecurities and loved me with each bite. My large party bag of fries. Yep that too assisted to hear the crunch of their fragile bodies as mine was expanding laterally.
For every bit of :…Cake…: That let me know I was worth each slice. For every fizzy drink that let me slurp up those insults on people mouths, judgemental gazes, pointing hands of “OMG’s” yes each and every single one of those.
You liars, you traitors saying we are all equal. It is simply some are more equal than others. Get that right.
I’m tired of your stares, I’m tired of you words, I’m tired of watching you in all your glory, I’m exceptionally tired of knowing how much worth I have but cannot reach my full potential because of each of you eating my dying fat, insecure, hopeless, depressed, suicidal carcass.