Dear Fat Girl,
Yes, I called you ‘fat girl’. I used *that* word. Fat. Three little letters. They don’t have to hurt but of course they have hurt you a lot in the past. Those three little letters have been akin to being stabbed over and over again, especially when they were used in that nasty taunting sing song way by the Principal’s daughter and her cronies.
F-AAAAAAAA-T
F-AAAAAAA-TSO
And of course it was unfortunate that the first syllable of your surname at the time actually rhymed with ‘fat’ and so you became known as ‘Fat-field’ rather than by your proper name. And I am sure you remember when the teacher asked you what your name meant and you (mistakenly) said it meant ‘lily’ and almost instantaneously, the Principal’s daughter remarked ‘Must be a fat lily’. That girl always had a smart mouth hurtful remark ready and waiting. But you know as well as I do that she was threatened by you. You were as smart, or smarter, than her. You were her competition and she wanted to beat you into submission. And she did to an extent, with her words. Despite the fact that teachers and your parents regularly told you that ‘sticks and stones would break your bones but names would never hurt you’. you know that names *do* hurt you. They smart. They ache. They can rip your heart out and stamp your soul into the ground. And that girl knew it.
But you are ok with the word ‘fat’ now. Most of the time anyway. You know you are fat. Those three little letters can pass your lips in regards to yourself without great dollops of self loathing piled on top. Most of the time anyway. Other days we both know that you, my dear fat girl, still have body image issues. You try to keep it on the down low but I know you still have days when you look at your naked reflection and feel nothing but disgust. I know you have real issues with the way your tummy sags and especially with those ‘handles’ on the side of stomach, coming down from your hips. I know you have a love/hate relationship with that expanse of flesh and fat. And you thought I wouldn’t notice but I also know that now summer is coming, you are dreading the increased risk of chub-rub and that shorter skirts and less layers scare the crap out of you. Don’t deny it, cos I know it is true.
But you know what, fat girl?
Rationally, you know that your body has and can do amazing things. You know your tummy sags like that mostly because of your last pregnancy and the extent to which that baby girl stretched your tummy muscles and skin. You know why you have gained weight, not that it matters how or why. You know this, even though that knowledge doesn’t really help on the days you dip your toes in the pool of self loathing. Rationally you know this line of thought is not helpful, and that in some cases it is not even true. You know there are so many things you are good at, you know you are a worthwhile person, you know that you contribute. But it’s hard when you spent 33 years hating yourself. It’s hard to suddenly be all sunshine and roses towards yourself when you spent most of your life hating on yourself so hard. If it took 33 years to get to that level of hatred, how long might it take to get to a similar level of self acceptance? Fat girl, I don’t really have an answer you on that one. Some days are better than others. Sometimes weeks, even months, pass and you are able to remember and truly know that you rock. Other times the days and weeks are dark and dripping with strands of self loathing that wrap themselves around you and drag you unwillingly into the abyss of worthlessness. But fat girl, you know your way out of that hole. You have been there before and you have climbed out, time and time again.Fat girl, try to remember you are not alone in this journey. There are hands there reaching out to you, there are fatties lined up to hoist you out of that hole of self hatred.
Fat girl, you are worth it. You mean so much to so many people. You have so much to give. Your time isn’t done with yet, there is so much more to come. Hang in there fat girl, fight the good fight and don’t let the bastards get you down. This is the body you have. Make friends with it. Take yourself on a trip and spend some time with this body you have spent so much time hating on. Get to know it. See how it goes. No one is saying you will become BFF with your body overnight but you might at least be able to declare some sort of truce, some sort of amnesty. Try and remember it is going to take some time to change 33 years of thinking. Be nice to your body, it deserves some lovin’.
Most of all, fat girl, be nice to yourself. You deserve it. You aren’t a bad person, you are a fat person. Fat doesn’t mean you are good or bad, it just means you are fat. Those three little letters. F-A-T. Just another way of describing your physical presence in the world. Not so different to ‘tall’, ‘short’, ‘brunette’ or ‘shortsighted’. Those letters, F-A-T, don’t tell the world anything about you other than that you are of size. But you know what, *everyone* is ‘of size’. Some of us are just a bigger size. And so the hell what? Size doesn’t define you. It is just one of a million things about you and if other people can’t see past that then bigger fool them.
Fat girl, try not to be so hard on yourself. You have got this far. There were times you didn’t think you could go on but look at you now. Look at all the things you have achieved. Look at the people who love you and want you in their lives. They don’t care if you are fat, they care about *you*. You might not be able to be proud of your rolls every day, you might not even be able to tolerate them some days but that’s ok. Self acceptance is a long hard journey. Our world doesn’t teach us to accept and love ourselves, it teaches us to hate ourselves so some corporate bastard can then make money out of us by peddling products that are meant to make us ‘better’ , ‘worthier’ and ‘more attractive’. Fat girl, I call bullshit on that. You are good enough just the way you are. You are loved just the way you are.
Just the way you are.
Remember it (there will be a test later).
Much love,
The Voice of Reason