Fat Girl Manifesto

I’ve been working on this post for a while, and I think it’s something I have to “get out of my system” in order to move forward with some of the goals I have for myself.

Before I go throwing out fancy words like manifesto, I should at least know what makes a bunch of declarative statements strung together into a manifesto. So, let’s look it up:

manifesto- a public declaration of policy and aims, esp. by a political party or candidate.

Right, I can make a public declaration of policy and aims with regards to being a fat girl. So, here we go…

I’ve always been aware of the fact that people take an inordinate amount of interest in my young life, particularly in the area of my appearance and relationships. Even when I was young and thin, my weight always seemed to be an issue. I can’t accurately recall for you the number of times I’ve been told I will get fat, I’m getting fat, or, as a character from The Incredibles put it “oh my God, you’ve gotten fat!” I can’t relate how many times I’ve been told “Don’t eat that; you’ll get fat” “eat more of this” or “you really need to…”

I’ve been told I look pregnant, I’m one of “the butt sisters”, “I’d no idea how much weight you’d gained,” and been the recipient of every clock and dagger, blind item telling off and “jelly fisher” comment you can imagine.

I’ve taken the brunt of well-meaning advice. I’ve endured hearing my losing weight as a goal in enough hypothetical conversations to feel a bit put out. To be honest, it’s getting harder and harder to  pretend to be unfazed by everyone’s interest in my diet, waistline, & workout regiment. It gets tiresome not saying anything back in order not to offend people who are either unaware they are offending me or simply don’t care.

On one of the nights of the marriage & family workshop, us single ladies were given the challenge to stare at ourselves naked and identify what we love about ourselves 30 days in a row. I can’t disect how I even feel about that because so many other people’s voices & opinions are clamoring to define for me how I feel about me.

I went to the gym Christmas Eve and Boxing Day,  but my sense of accomplishment from two great progress days was marred by the relating of someone’s question as to whether my dad is to be a grandfather soon, followed by this well meaning text message:

Saw you[r] picture on Facebook didn’t realize how much weight you have gained[.] It has been a life time struggle for me. Starting Daniel fast 1-4-12 if you like I [can] send you a copy of it just to help support you.

Well, that’s just it for me. Let’s put it out in the open. Consider this my fat girl manifesto. I’m aware that I am fat. I’m 4’11” & weigh 142 lbs. I’m not pregnant. I don’t overeat, and at this point, there are few things I want less than someone interrogating me on everything I put into my mouth. I’m no bigger than I was three months ago; I actually weigh three pounds less. Nothing about my my weight is funny, friendly, or a cause for an intervention. Let’s all take it as read I know I “need” to lose about 30lbs. (…)

In order for this to be a manifesto, I’ll have to publicly declare my policy and aims with regards to being a fat girl, clearly stating my objectives. My policy, aims, and objectives, my manifesto, is as follows…

To be continued…

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