So, all my mother did was ask me to get change inside the corner store. “pick up something small” she says. And I do just that. Something yummy (to me) and under a dollar. Naturally I pick up a snickers bar. I’ve barely eaten and I know it’s something that will hold me for a while instead of hitting up the nearest McDonalds for the value menu. I worked out this morning and the day before. Muscles still sore from the revisited activities from my high school days, I figured half a chocolate bar could do no harm….
Not in the eyes of my boyfriend.
“Babe you can’t eat that, you have high cholesterol and you just came from the gym. There’s no point in going to the gym and then having that”
WELL EFFE! I’m not really trying to lose weight. Just be healthy. He says he likes me thick but then gets on my ass for every “unhealthy” item I choose to put into MY body. It’s not like I’m stuffing my face with it and using it as my main source of food. He eats junk food all the time and no one gets on his ass about it. You know why? Because he meets societies view of model like perfection. Perfect abs and muscles across his body as if he’s been best friends with the personal trainer at the gym. Yet he does nothing to get it. He’s naturally born that way. Me on the other hand, being overweight runs in my family. I don’t consider myself “big”. Overweight sure. Maybe in the eyes of the medical field. But no really unhealthy. I have curves (not those extra curves with the rolls where people are trying to make excuses) where my body just naturally shapes out. AND I’M FINE WITH THAT. Sure. All women want that perfecto stomach where we can go to the beach in a bikini and not worry about people making snide comments about how we need to put a shirt over it. But I barely need any weight to lose. I just need to shape up. “With black comes ‘back’”. Meaning the majority of my weight sits in my behind. In addition to my family’s curse of being top heavy. So this would be a rendition of “thick”.
Thus comes my question…
Why do so many people look at me and say “you can’t eat this” and “you can’t eat that”. Or the one I hate the most “You don’t need to get any bigger”.
I don’t want to sit in society’s category of the stick figure barbie with the unrealistic large boobies. I want to be me. Sure, I would love to be a size 10 so I can at least try on the wedding dresses I want to for my wedding day, but that is only ten pounds away from me. not 30.
The word “Diet” can’t be spelled without “die”. You die a little bit on the inside with every minute you’re practically starving yourself to reach this ideal (sick) view of beauty. An then after months and months of this dieting, you end up finding that special slice of cake, or that wonderful little snack you loved, get addicted to it because you missed it for so long, gain the weight again, AND START OVER! So what’s the point?
I want to be me….. thick and all.