Dear you,

You got another stare today. Another smirk, another chuckle, another scoff. It is just another day in the life for you.

You're used to the laughs by now. You are used to the stares because every time you look around, you see (or you think you see) it. That "you did it to yourself" face; or my personal favorite, the "I feel uncomfortable being in your presence" stare.

You are self-conscious, and you have a right to be. You have been bullied your own life for something you can't help. Something you can't just "lose." A social construct that is made to make bigger people feel bad that they look like "that" and smaller people feel bad for people who look like "that."

That... like a taboo. Your personal body is taboo. Every line, curve, stretch, or indent in your body is not acceptable.

So unacceptable that there is an entire industry who profits on shaming you. By putting famous people whom you admire on the covers of magazines that say, "How to be the best you! Lose 20 pounds in two months!" Do these people really believe this? Your heroes even think that your fat.

I then realize that I am not you. You with the weight "problem." You, that is experiencing the stares and glares, the hurt and discomfort.

I am me. The girl who is a strong leader. The girl who works her ass off just to impress people because she can't impress herself. The girl who keeps a smile even when it is hard for her to be out of her room. The girl who loves and doesn't care if she is not loved in return.

The girl who doesn't think she deserves love because of you. The girl who has a crappy self-esteem because of the stares you get. The girl who wonders why she has to live every day in your oppressive shell that casts her out of society and into a lonely isolation. The girl who feels alone in a crowd. Who has a loving family and friends that tell her she is beautiful the way she is, but she only hears a mumble?

Thanks you, for becoming me. Thanks a lot.