I lost a lot of weight over the summer. Shut up. I don’t want your congratulations. I want your apology.
For years I have struggled with the idea of fitting in, and for years my “friend” had engraved in my mind that I needed to fit into a smaller size pants to be accepted.
“You used to be so attractive, what happened?” “If you don’t want people to pick on you for your weight, then lose it.” These are just few of the many stabs dealt to me by blades held in the tongue of my closest friends. For days, they bled. For months, they ached. These wounds, never healing, led me to become a different person in the Summer of 2016.
When most people lose weight, or even change any aspect about themselves, they often say that it was done out of their own motivation. This is a brutal lie. The reason that we change is so that we can feel more accepted in a society that remains king only by building its throne through the labor of our insecurities. I fell slave to these insecurities, and I fell slave to my peers.
I am still shackled. I was naïve to think that the jeers would ever stop, no matter how much I tried to fall into the mold of this “perfect human.” Now, the responses I get from my friends are, “Don’t eat that, you’ll get fat again.” These remarks lead me to an answerless destination. Should I starve myself? Should I work out until my feet cry tears of blood? In finding these answers, I have only found more questions. In finding myself, I have only found another person that I cannot be sure I wanted to be.
People gain insecurities as people tell them that they are inferior, but the real insecurity manifests as fear. This fear is the fear that I will fall back into this hole where I was overweight and lacked confidence. This fear makes me look at myself in the mirror and poke at my imperfections. This fear makes me angry with myself after I touch an ounce of junk food. This fear holds me underwater to drown me as I stare at the rippling visage of this happy person that I am supposed to be.
I cannot say that I am completely unhappy. When strangers comment that I look nice or even give me a look of approval, it surely boosts my confidence. Confidence, however, remains fragile when those who you want most to accept are first to attack.
Perhaps then some of my friends should be dropped? I don’t know about that. No matter who I meet in life, I know that I will always face friends that are like this; friends that decide that their only way to stay relevant is to bash everyone else. I am stuck in a world that I do not belong in, I feel.
I smile, but am I truly happy? Think about your comments before you approach me. Treat my no differently. I should not be a different person just because I fit into a medium shirt now, but I am changed. I didn’t do this for me, I did this for you.
