You’re fat…
You’re fatter than you’ve been before
You’ve been lazy
Eating all the wrong meals
Afraid to step on the scale
Terrified of blood pressure checks
Have your stretch marks stretched?
Has your skin formed a line where flesh overlays flesh
Because your rolls are just too full grown?
Run in place
How long do you think you’d last
Before the wheezing kicks in?
How many times will you wake up from snoring?
So big, your airways clog with your arteries
Prediabetes
Threats of the heart suddenly aching
Worries of dying early
This…
This is the fight every morning
I’m not into body shaming
But I have to have the honest conversation
I don’t need you to remind me that I’m fat
I see it in the mirror daily
I know what the scale says
I hope against what the blood pressure will read
Age and weight tag teaming
I’m pinned to the floor
Waiting to be struck
Dismantling my fight to stand on who I am
I am broken
Tossed into the gutter
While the devil waits with criticism and depression
For the ball to return
So that they may strike me again
Thrown into the ropes, tossed into the air, slammed onto the ground
Pounced from the top rope
“One, two, three”
Down goes the fat man
Cheer
Laugh
Did you forget that’s what we do to fat people?
We put them in movies and make jokes about their meals
We put them on shows and say that’s why no one wants you
It’s not my one-hundred-pound life
It is not hilarious to be skinny
It is only funny to laugh at the big ones
Only comedy to deal with obesity
Whose bellies and breasts bounce while running
All this negativity feeding me since the early 90s
Fearing obesity; feeling cursed
Thinking I am a fool looking for an early drive in a hearse
Will they amputate my limbs?
Will I have to live on pills?
I am a bad steward of a remarkable body
And have been since childhood
Charts say I should be a weight I haven’t seen since high school
I failed and fail every day
Obesity, the consequence of gluttony
The result of burgers, wings, pizza, and cookies
The price of seconds, combos, barbeques, and buffets
The issue with one meal a day in poverty
I’m surprised I’m not bigger
It runs in the family
We cook good and eat bad
We exercise little because there’s much work to be done
Food is the reward…
I have a celebrated much…
Why do I reach for despair when I am still an athlete?
I am… tired…
Tired of mental battles
Tired of the mental hurdles
Tired of mental health
Tired of fighting for what is mine
The joy of the Lord is my strength
Yet, I feel weak every day on my couch,
Knowing it will only add weight to me
Is this insanity?
Expecting change without commitment?
I wish I liked vegetables
I wish I loved working out daily
I wish I could abandon meat
I wish I stuck to a diet
I wish I didn’t love the unhealthy
But I do
When the pages of my mind have emptied
And I am left with my body and the results of my eating
It is… hard… to love me…
But I love me…
I have a sneaky body to match my sneaky personality
Soft on the outside but rock-hard muscles on the inside
Last to get picked on a team and still dominant beyond the three
Belly giggly and will beat you in a quick forty-yard sprint
I can eat with the best of them
Drink with the best of them
And winter time will land me a dime really quick
Mr. 8-pack abs sick when I come throw with a thick woman
It’s not my fault women like sleeping on pillows more than muscles.
I’m not saying I don’t need to lose weight
But I feel great
Fresh from a mile run and 300 pounds on my bench press
Two weeks of consistency and I look like a linebacker again.
Turning girls’ heads again
Making grown men feel small again
This body has protected me from giant bullies
This body has held those tender to me
It has broken a jar from trying to open it
Stripped a screw from trying to tighten it
Dragged a man several feet as he was trying to tackle me
Made a child feel safe as he stood behind me
My head big
My hairline receding
My stomach, hips, and arms are covered in stretch marks
And I will still flex in the mirror
Because you can see the effort
And I can see the love
I don’t accept hate
Even from me
I refuse to hate what I see
I don’t care what Hollywood thinks
This body still has the potential to be sexy
I still get the awkward smiles,
The bubbly giggles
The lustful glares
I get them all
Because fat doesn’t mean ugly
Fat doesn’t mean I hate myself
I have the body that makes people kill themselves
And I have the audacity to say I love my belly
Self-hate is the devil’s trap for the soul
He shall have none of me
Don't forget to like, comment, and subscribe!
SHARE MY WEBSITE!