Repost: A request from your fat friend from UpWorthy

http://www.upworthy.com/a-request-from-your-fat-friend-what-i-need-when-we-talk-about-bodies

I have a lot to say about this. First of all it words so eloquently what I have trouble saying out loud sometimes. Most times. It shows the true feelings I have when I hear people I love hate themselves for being a fraction of the size that I am. I am big. I am fat. I don't say this in a self deprecating manner. I say it because it is my truth. I have grown up and lived in a world where fat=bad. So for a very VERY long time, I have lived in shame of my fatness. But I don't anymore. I can't say that everyday I wake up and love every inch of my curvaceous body. I can’t say that everyday I wake up and hate it either. I have come to a point in my life, where my fatness is just that. Fatness. It’s not bad. It doesn’t make me a bad person. It doesn’t make me less intelligent. Less aesthetic for the male eye. It doesn’t define the kind of love I can give nor my aspirations in life. It doesn’t mean that I have no confidence or no self control. My fatness is not a result of 100% poor choices and laziness. My fatness is a result of a plethora of things. Whether I decide to rid myself of my fatness is up to me and me only. Too long I’ve had to endure comments, advice, well intentioned words about what I should do with my body. Too long I have been in shame and dammit it’s EXHAUSTING. Only I get to decide how to feel about my body. So why have I gone so long allowing others to make that decision for me? Whether it was my mother berating me about my bag of Hott Cheetos or my father pinching my belly fat or my sister talking about how fat she is at 117 lbs or her husband giving me a disapproving look when I get a large breakfast with pancakes or my boss recommending a great diet or when it’s a friend who for the first time in their life they have been over weight and they’re just so in hate with their body; IT. FUCKING. HURTS. It’s always someone I love saying something with great intentions. It’s always someone pointing out that I’m beautiful even if I’m fat. DAMN. STRAIGHT. I. AM. I am a loving, caring machine. I have internal beauty that outshines external. I have the capacity to forgive, to love, to understand, to care; I am an amazing listener, I don’t judge, (99% of the time. I reserve the 1% for people like Drumpf or Mary Fallin) I am understanding, a hard worker, eager to always learn something. I am beautiful AND fat. And it’s okay to say that to me. It’s okay to acknowledge it. I would rather the truth be spoken than someone try to hide their disdain for my fatness by replacing fat with some pretty adjective they come up with instead. Goddammit I have goals. I have aspirations in life. I DO CARE that I’m fat. I am not 100% okay with my body, and I never will be if I know everyone around me isn’t okay with it too. I decide when and how I lose weight. I decide to lose weight or not to lose weight. I am sick of constantly hanging my head in shame and quite frankly I am sick of the self-deprecating manner in which my non fat friends and family behave. Please click on the link I’m sharing here and please for the love of God… Follow the advice. It’s a vicious cycle that needs to be broken.

In the Quest for Love

When you love a person, it should be no matter what right? I mean.. not if they’re a serial rapist or eat dogs or something… but if they are and you love them then you get them help no? I mean that is ideal.. if someone loves you then you would expect to be loved in any circumstance you are facing. Including mental illness, physical illness, no illness, richness, poorness, etc.

 In the quest for love I have discovered a lot of variations of it. There is the kind of love only a mother can give; nurturing, nagging, this-is-for-your-own-good-ing, blinding, etc. There is the kind of love you get from a dad; this one is similar to that of a mom, but with some detachment I guess (depending on the dad and all that shit.) There is the kind of love you get from a sibling; the kind where they feel like you’re either the bane of their existence or the best thing to ever happen to them. You fight, you laugh, you’re mean, you destroy your relationship and then you build it back up. Sister/Brother love is different because of age, personality, sometimes even distance and sometimes it can be a long time in order to get it “just right.”

There’s the love of a friend. This one is a special one. See, friends are sort of the chosen brothers or sisters. They don’t take away from your biological siblings, but they have a special place. While your older sister is out on dates with her boyfriend or out hanging with HER friends, your friends are there to hold that place. While your younger brother is being a sulky silly teenager, your friend is there to remind you of that time when you too, were a sulky silly teenager. Friends love in the most amazing complex way. They make you laugh, cry, smile, angry, happy, sad. They hold your hand through scary medical procedures, or walking through a crown when they can tell you’re a bit apprehensive, or they come see you when you’re dog sitting out in bum-fuck-egypt. They stop speaking to you and even block you on social media, but they still want to know if someone has done you wrong so that they can retaliate. They get shit face drunk with you and let you sleep off the ever-clear jello-shots and the moonshine (even if it’s in the middle of a fucking game at the table.) They make you do things you never thought you would and support your stupid or awesome ideas. The most important thing though, is that they love you no matter what. NO MATTER WHAT. In the midst of chaos, in the worst of times, in the best of times. They forgive petty shit and serious shit as well. They don’t drop you over a stupid ass disagreement. They just don’t. I learned the meaning of friendship a long time ago. And then this year, just within the last four months, I have re-learned it.

                                 

I have maintained friendships with a very small group of people from school. I see them as much as I can. Right now, it’s not a lot. But they’re my tribe. They’re my people. I have made some amazing friendships within the book and online community. And I have lost some. And that is okay. Because the ones that have remained? They’re the ones that I will think about in my darkest of times. They are the ones that I will share my best moments with. It’s not a lot of skill to be a good friend. It doesn’t take a lot of skill to love someone. I love my tribe. All of them. My old friends, my new ones. I love my family. I love so whole-heartedly it’s stupid and ugly sometimes. Especially in those dark moments when I forget that they love me too.

I have been dealing with some personal shit. And the love of my family, and the love from my friends has helped me tremendously. But it has also hurt. Because in those dark moments, in those weak moments filled with dread and constant doubt, I have learned that love is not always reciprocated. And that it is often said to leisurely. But that’s okay. Because in my quest for love, I am finding it easier and easier to love myself most of all.