I, like most of you, have been over weight my whole life. I battled with weight right next to a thin younger sister. She is now a stuck, materialistic kind of person who doesn’t care about other people.
To tell you the truth, I hate being fat and hated the years I had to grow up fat but I wouldn't have traded it for the world. I wouldn’t be the person I am today had I not been. I feel I have confidence in my personality, my brain, and my work ethic. I strive so hard to be what people wish they could be or just be someone people want to be around. This could have something to do with having a father who was a productive alcoholic. He liked to work more than he liked being with his family. At a younger age, I prided myself off the fact that no one hated me. This, I feel, has caused me a lot of emotional and mental damage.
I know I did things out of lack of self worth and as ashamed as I am to say it, lack of self respect. I mean I slept with people so they would like me more. I have matured since than, so I can see the errors in my ways. I just find it’s difficult for people to understand why I did it. All I can say was I wanted people to like me, I wanted to be that girl and if I gave people what they wanted, I thought I would be. You know it turns out life isn't that way.
AAHH! I just blamed so many things on being fat. I mean I had girls be so mean to me in middle school who said they were my friends and had been for previous years. A girl who said she was my best friend dared her neighbor to see how far he could get with me. He did, but I was innocent than. He had me backed in a corner... I'm sure you can imagine the rest. My own friends. How sick. I never thought what crazy people. I thought wow something must be wrong with me. Honestly even today, telling that story out loud brings me to tears.
I lived with my Grandparents at the age of 7 while my parents were building the house they live in today. My Grandpa was a heavy machinery mechanic so he worked nights. He taught me to read and watched me everyday after school. He was like my father since my real one was never home. We eventually moved out and had been over at their house visiting. My cousins were there and my mom said we had to go home. I threw a baby fit and went to sit in the car. My Grandpa was standing outside and lipped Olive juice to me (cause it looks like I love you). I just gave him a dirty look because I was so mad and than we left. My grandpa died that Friday; Father’s day weekend. I have never felt so guilty about anything in my life. My Grandpa’s death has haunted me since the day he died. Even typing this right now is making me sick to my stomach.
Since I had been so confident to go to middle school, and the girls were so mean, I was dreading high school. I started smoking pot over the summer. I just had such a big fear of saying something wrong that I wanted to make sure I could have an excuse. Saying oh because I was high gave me the illusion of being cool. I started getting into heavier drugs and hanging out with people who only wanted to take advantage of me. I let them. Knowingly. I just wanted so bad to be a part of a group, I was dumb.
Eventually I transferred schools and started living better and made real friends. One day I had missed the bus and my mom was really mad that she had to take me to school. We had been talking about a family friend of ours that my mom had always kept on a Pedi stool even though she’s stupid as shit. She had always compared my sister and me to her and her brother. My mom than started talking about me losing weight and here are her exact words, “I just don’t think you are the kind of girl that guys look at.” Today I know my mom didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just felt like mentally I had grown up a lot and no longer had a surface hate for myself, had good grades and was off drugs. It just felt like it was never enough. It was never going to be enough. Let’s just say my high school cycle repeated itself with the self hate and the drugs.
Today, my mom is so proud of me. My whole family is. My mom had called me one day and said you need to take a new picture because when you call I see one of this fat girl. I know it was supposed to be a compliment but it hurt. I felt like if I ever gained the weight back she wouldn’t love me as much. I mean I know it’s because she wants me to be all I can but my mind just won’t take it that way.
I know I still have self hate in my body. It’s deep in there but I can feel it. When I have time to think, I don’t have very happy thoughts. After losing 90 pounds I should but just don’t. I go in for a screening for counseling on September 3rd but have nothing in the meantime. I have a guy who’s like my brother to confide in, but he has been away for the past year and doesn’t have much time to talk. Oh and I do have a boyfriend but don’t tell him anything about this because he takes it personally. Stupid I know but he’s been here since before I had the surgery and is now more insecure now that I am thin. I just wish I didn’t care about what other people think.