I’ve had constant issues with my weight. Since junior high. And if you could see what I looked like in junior high you would probably look at me crosswise. I have always been shaped more like Jessica Rabbit, and I grew up in a time before “Bootylicious” was goals. I have also had people I love and respect tell me I would be prettier if I lost weight. Whether they thought it is for my health, or because I was not aesthetically pleasing, or I just did not fit in with the rest of the family dynamic it was all hurtful and did a number on my self esteem.
On a separate, but related, note I’ve struggled with depression. Mainly I felt like I was left out of everything. That I was an afterthought to everyone I considered important in my life. I also felt that I was a quintessential screw up; that everything I touched turned to crap. I felt that I did not live up to anyone’s expectations, and that everyone would be better off if I just disappeared into the sunset. Everyone always SAID I was smart, but if I was so smart, why did I feel so stupid? It was not until I was made aware of my diagnoses that I realized much of this was the Itty Bitty Shitty Committee that had taken up residence in my head.
Everyday it is a struggle to reconcile how I feel about my weight, and to keep my brain chemistry from napalming my life.
But understand this: I’m not so far gone that I will accept ANYONE’S mistreatment of me. I’m too smart, too talented, to beautiful to let ANY PERSON (male or female) convince me that I should accept any form of abuse (mental, emotional, or physical) because it’s the best I’ll ever get.
All of you out there who think you are too fat, to skinny, to tall, too short. Who think you are not beautiful, not smart, too smart. Who think your (perceived) disabilities disqualify you from finding your form of happiness:
FUCK THAT SHIT.
Go be the radiant god/dess that your were born to be. Tell the rest of the world to taste your rainbow.
Chaotically Controlled 