I know that you remember me; I am the healthy girl that is living inside of you, way down deep, buried under years of gluttony for all things sugar. You hear me, because I am healthy and happy and proud of who I am, so I tend to always put thoughts into your mind. I am the girl who weighs exactly how much she should. I am fit and can run at least a few miles without getting a cramp in my side. I am vibrant and beautiful and ALIVE.
You, on the other hand, are a mess.
You ate chocolate donuts for breakfast this morning, followed up with a cholesterol feast of pizza, “extra cheese, please” and a sweet tea. Then, for dinner, you ate mozzarella sticks with marinara sauce and a bowl of Strawberry Cheesecake ice cream from Bruester’s. Are you getting that there is a Cheese theme at work here? When is the last time you’ve had water or a vegetable? When’s the last time you ate fruit that wasn’t on one of those fruit pizzas you try to make yourself believe are healthy, but really, it’s a big sugar cookie with strawberry cream cheese fruit dip! You tell yourself these lies and you KNOW they are lies, but you keep believing them anyway.
I want you to know that I am not going away. You can stuff me full and I will still find a way to set you free from this prison you have created for yourself.
Do you know what your problem is? Your problem is that somewhere along the way between having your first period and earning your first paycheck, you decided I wasn’t good enough. You decided that it would be best to be ignored and invisible. You decided that you could not contain your sense of humor or semi-intelligence but you could contain your beauty. Eating was the one thing you could do that no one could take from you.
You would get so mad at your mother as a child. You would beg her for sodas and Lucky Charms and French Dip for your chips. She rarely surrendered. Visiting your grandmother’s house, she would have a freshly bought box of Lucky Charms waiting on you with a very nifty prize inside. You would eat ham and potato chips for lunch and you would dip your chips AND ham in the French onion dip. You adored your grandmother and you begged her once to, “Please, when you write your will, leave me your house and a freezer full of pudding pops.” She laughed at you and squeezed you tight and told you that she “adooored” you.
You’ve never had a meal that wasn’t happy. I remember when you were seven years old, sitting at the dinner table, watching your two sisters whimpering and moaning over the horrid green beans they were being forced to eat. Oh, how the abhorred them! But you, you sat there very quietly and watched your father become more impatient with them, telling them that they would sit at that table until they cleaned their plates. And you saw an opportunity to make Dad proud so you cleaned your plate and you held it up and showed it off as if you had just one the cup at Wimbledon. It worked though. Dad smiled at you and your Mother said, “See, Joy cleaned her plate! You can too!”
Your love affair with food didn’t end with green beans. Oh, how fortunate we would be if it had! No, no, you spent many an evening scarfing down cheeseburgers and French fries from McDonalds. It was bad enough that you worked there and had clogged greasy pores as a byproduct, but to actually eat the stuff! Disgusting! Then, when you met alcohol, there was never a drink that you didn’t like. Do you remember that time you drank all SEVEN of your favorite drinks within ONE hour at Senor Frogs and you had to be driven home by some very pissed off friends because you had gotten so totally soused after only 60 minutes? Yes, there was the Blue Bazooka, Sex on the Beach, followed by a Long Island Iced Tea, a Hurricane and of course, a buttery nipple chased with an icy cold Coors Light. I could hurl now just thinking of it.
After you had Jake, it just got worse. You are out of control. I don’t know if I am doing you any favors either. You walk around thinking that you look half decent on most days but then you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror or you realize that your shirt gaps in the front when you sit down at your desk. Then, you always look really sad. Almost like you wish you could crawl inside of your skin and completely disappear. That’s what you’ve been doing for years. Hiding. Sure, we’ve had some fun. I’ll give it to you that for a fat girl, you know how to live. I just wish you’d realize that if you shed all of these layers of fat that you’ve been hiding under for so long that you’d be so fucking amazed at how fabulous life can be.
Drunk in St. Louis, Trying to conceal my double chin.
Posted at
12:11 AM
comments: 2
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YOU are beautiful.
Posted by mo at July 16, 2005 09:31 PM
hi,
i have been reading your blog and i think you're amazing, i know how hard it is to lose weight and i know about the whole, 'i'll do it the day after' thing, :) i hope you get there
Posted by harriet at June 11, 2007 04:45 PM
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Self-Made Man 