I have found that being skinny doesn’t always make you happy. Being a fatty doesn’t always either. There is a moderation that comes to your mind…it’s called “mindfulness”…a moderation that is purely mental. It’s a state you encounter or live with where you realize you want the world to see you for your inner beauty, your soul, that radiates and permeates every soul you encounter.
I used to have low self-esteem. But I have found my esteem being fat regardless. Isn’t that odd? It stems from self-worth. Am I not worthy because I can’t fit into my size 6 petite dresses and jeans anymore? No. Fat offers me some protection from shallow men who would rather see me fittheir perfect image of what I should look like in their eyes. Honestly it freaks me out.
I’ve decided that if I choose to lose weight, I want it to be for my health and self-love rather than to attract some male and make him want me. It’s so discouraging to see women suffering, garnishing eating disorders and airbrushing, to fit into a society that dictates women should look like barbies or Disney princesses. How many women are told, “it’s okay…I’d rather you look like a care bear?” No, it’s 27 inch waists. Boob jobs and the perfect ass.
The funny or not so funny thing about it is I have a double standard for men. I’m not into heavy guys, short guys, guys with no hair. I guess I’m an asshole then. Or a hypocrite. But that’s okay. We all have our preferences. Whether it’s hard wired into our DNA, or socially constructed, I accept it.
I suppose I should accept the fact that I’m not perfect and I’m only human. And accept the fact that most people are the same.
