Thoughts Of A Fat Girl
By Zi Zany
I am 18 years old. I live somewhere out there with my family. I just finished my A levels. I AM FAT, around 78 kg. And I hate myself.
I have been fat pretty much all my life. But I have never been bullied because of it. I’d get teased sometimes in school. But it was never that horrific. Just someone in school leaving a snide comment about me being fat. It hurt. But it passed as well. This was in primary school. Grade 2 or grade 3. It was then when nothing mattered. When everything was beautiful. Rainbows and unicorns and fairies. There was nothing that either your mom or your teacher couldn’t fix. Then when everything was fixable.
Not anymore though. Now everything’s a mess. I don’t hate my life. I just hate myself. I hate the ugly monster that looks back at me whenever I look into a mirror. Whenever I go out there’s this little voice in my head that keeps telling me that I’m fat, that everyone is thinking the same thing. It gets tiring. but I know that it’s true.
I have a huge group of friends. People that will always help me through my bad times and be there to share my good times with me. In school no one ever really made it that big a deal. And even if they did it would be in a funny joking way. I always joined them in their laughter. But inside the hurt and self loathing kept stronger and stronger.
It was never my friends or school that kept feeding logs to that fire of hatred inside me. It was my family. I have never been close with my dad’s side of the family. I am closer with my mom’s side. They were the people who kept the fire going. I have never been able to let go of the things that they say.
I have heard my aunts tell their daughters that if they turn out like me, all fat and ugly, they will kill them. I have had my mom tell me that eventually they will have to have my jeans specially made. I have had my 7 year old cousins laugh in my face and say mean things to me. I have had my 15 year old cousin tell me that I will never find a boyfriend or even a husband. I have had my brother along with his friends laugh at me. I have had my uncles laugh at me and tease me every single time they meet me. I have had them tell me that eventually I will not fit into an airplane seat. It never gets old for them. And the hurt i feel never ceases.
I always laugh it off in front of them. I never showed them my hurt self loathing face. All they see is the laughing cheerful facade that I created for the outside world. But inside it is total chaos. I have never talked to another soul about this. I don’t want their pity. I don’t want them to tell me I’m beautiful even though inside they keep thinking you are fat and ugly.
I have never talked to my friends about it. And they never bring it up either. But it’s always the elephant in the room. Whenever we are hanging out in our usual place, on the balcony of an abandoned building, talking about their boyfriends and love and sex and future, all I can think I will never get to experience that. I will never have a first kiss. I will never get to know what love is. because, let’s face it, who would want to love me? Who would want to kiss me? Who would want to touch me ?
It’s not like I haven’t tried to lose weight. I have. But when there is all this negativity surrounded by you, it’s hard not to slip back. Whenever my uncles come over and hear that I’m dieting again they would just laugh in my face. All I want is some support. All I need is someone to tell me that I am beautiful. That I am worth it. That I can do it.
Sometimes I lay in bed awake trying to figure out why it had to be me. Why me? Why not someone else. I lay awake sometimes just talking into the wind, to no one in particular, or writing. Trying to get it out. So that I can have some peace of mind. So that I can convince myself that I can do it. That’s what I’m doing now. Putting thoughts into words. Trying to get someone out there to tell me that it’s possible. That I can do it this time.