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I'm Fat

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



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