Disclaimer: Contains a few cuss words.
Growing up fat was difficult, saying the least. I’m going to try to be as honest as possible in this piece even though it will be hard, because, as much as I am a confident person, my weight is probably still my greatest insecurity. Not in the oh I’m so ugly nobody will love me kind of way but instead in the err this is something I have to live with, why me? kind of way. Lol.
I’m writing about this because, I recently ran a poll on my WhatsApp status about what I should write about next. And one of my best friends suggested this. I’m not sure where I’m going with this but when I’m done, I suppose both of us will know.
I wasn’t always fat. I think I noticed I started to get big about the time my sister was born (I’m 8 years older) or perhaps this is just the story I’ve told and retold people when they ask about my weight. Btw, why do people do that anyway? Oh well, the truth is… I don’t know exactly when I got fat. Or why. I was a kid. It happened. The end.
The thing about being fat is, everybody thinks something is wrong with you and they don’t stop at just thinking it. They tell you. Trying to unpack how being fat messed up my psyche would probably be too much to put into this piece of writing but I suppose we can scratch the surface.
Every single summer break, I had one dream and one prayer… yes, you guessed it; lose weight. And it never happened. My biggest dream was that I would go back to school, people would look at me and be like wow Omooba you’ve lost so much weight… you look so good. Lol. I would be lying if I say I didn’t have this same fantasy about the covid lockdown last year. I did. Somewhere inside me was still that primary school girl. And I actually went through with the Chloe Ting workouts, along with running on the treadmill everyday and I didn’t even lose one single kg (to be fair, I stopped after the second week because I got ill; it’s three weeks in total). Of course I couldn’t cry. I’m a big girl. Lol. My grandma would watch me run on the treadmill and beg me to stop. She would say I should stop taking milk and Milo instead. My dad would reply her with: Omooba doesn’t like those things. And it’s true. Anyone that knows me knows I don’t.
Now that I think about it, why don’t I?
I had a conversation with a close friend about why I don’t like food. The truth is I’m fine with one meal per day. But why? Could it have been that I’ve been conditioned to think fat people shouldn’t eat? I don’t know. Is this good or bad? I don’t know.
I think back to junior secondary school, when I had little or no care about my hygiene. I’m pretty carefree but back then it was to an extreme; didn’t polish my shoe, comb my hair, iron my uniform and some other stuff I can’t put on the internet because I am now a babygirl. Sho get? Lol. Anyhoo… to be honest with you yeah? I didn’t care about how I looked because I thought no one else did. I thought nobody looks at a fat girl. No boy is going to look at me anyway so why bother? People don’t see me, what’s the point? Wtf… why did I think that? Because it was constantly fed to me… by everyone… everyone. Didn’t make it better that my first boyfriend actually told me if he saw me on the street he wouldn’t have asked me out, that it wasn’t my body but my character that attracted him. Wt actual f? Lol. Yo, that shit messed me up cause this was somebody I loved. Lol. So I guess for a while, I believe yeah, nobody sees me on the street. Absolute rubbish though. Tbh. How did I even believe that? Emi spec.
I get it; obesity is a risk factor for many diseases, so is smoking and drinking and obsessive social media use and anorexia. And. Anorexia. I get it… but see ehn? It’s complicated. That’s all I can tell you. If you’ve lived for a while you’ll know by now that life is not as straight to the point as you think. These things seem very clear right? Just lose weight and be healthy, healthy and sexy. What’s the big deal? Just do it. Okay. Lol. I don’t have answers for you. I have just one suggestion though;
If you don’t know someone personally, like you don’t share a close mutually caring and loving relationship? Then, dont talk about their weight. Ever.
At least not to them.
Think about it all you want, gossip about it if you must but don’t talk to them about it. There’s nothing you want to say that they don’t already know. They don’t need you to tell them. They don’t need your shallow doses of empathy. Just carry on with your life. We all have our own shit to deal with. Some people just seem to carry theirs on their bodies.
So, so far what has being fat done for me?
I suppose one thing I’m sure of is that my boyfriend/husband will enjoy lying on my soft stomuck and thick thighs. I have friends who say the experience is amazing.
Can’t forget the boobs and sizeable ass too. I suppose being fat has something to do with that. And that’s a good thing right?
Being fat also gave me thick skin, so yeah at this point, I really don’t care at all what people say. I actually expect people to talk about my weight, so when it happens, it just bounces off of me like lies. Lol. No time for that because trust me, I’ve heard it all before.
And to be fair, I’m only overweight. I have no idea what it’s like for people who are obsese. So I guess even I, have some privilege when I talk about this.
That being said;
Dear fat people, do your best to be healthy. You can be fat and healthy, even though the world tells you otherwise. Just do your best and protect your mental space. We are all going to die anyway, some day.
I found this article on Twitter a few days ago and I think it puts the things I’m trying to say in a more informative, educative tone and form. Read here.
And happy new year guys. I hope you’ve been having a good one, I have, so far.
See you around, O.