I wake up in the morning and I think, wow, it’s awesome to be me!
I get my coffee and turn on the news. They’re talking about the obesity epidemic again. Next, a commercial comes on for the BEST DIET PILL IN HISTORY.
I realize that the news station is ignorant on the topic of weight in relation to health, and was probably told to say these things by some huge corporation. I get ready to go out.
I decide to go to Target to shop. I walk in the clothing section and see tiny shorts and tiny t shirts. Yeah, that’s not happening. I stand there. I move around the aisles and I stretch-test all of the clothes. Some of them look like they could work!
I’m excited. I walk back to the fitting rooms and I’m like YES! And then..
I decide to check my newsfeeds. What do I see my friends saying on their Facebooks, Instagrams, Twitters, and other social networking sites at least 5 times a day?
I go to the gym and squee silently because Glee is on one of the TVs. But sadly enough, whenever I see people like me in television shows, they either have food in their hands, they are talking about food, or they are eating. Or all three.
I get on the elliptical and do it for 30 minutes and the trainer is all, WHOA YOU DID 30 MINUTES GOOD JOB HONEY. As if I’m a child, and as if I’m incapable.
I play with my belly, because that’s what fat people do because apparently we’re like that.
Someone comments on a post on my blog’s Facebook page and says that I’m not fat, I’m beautiful. I tell them, actually I’m both.
Someone decides to message me and tell me that I’m into girls because a man would never want a woman with a body like mine. Little do they know, I get hit on by men WAY more often than women!
I say something rude about his penis and keep walking.
I walk up the stairs on campus and I’m huffing and puffing. People whisper when I pass them breathing heavily, assuming it’s because of my weight, but it’s really because I smoke way too much.
I come home and I write a post about it because I’m fed up.
Then I talk to my cats.