High School- A fat girls experience.
In high school I was ashamed of myself, my body. If you knew me in high school that might sound weird- seeing I hid it behind bitchy bravado. But it was there. Especially in the earlier years.
I've always been fat. There's a lot of reasons behind it but how I got to be fat doesn't matter- how I was treated and learned to treat myself because of it does. Kids are jerks to each other- being the fattest kid in my grade made me quite literally, an easy target. It didn't help that my older brother helped all the other kids come up with ways to torment me. There was a time "Shaysquatch" was popular and kids would pretend (or sometimes use actual spray deodorant) to "Shay spray" me.. so I wouldn't eat them. Kids would wave and then start screaming- pretending I bit off some of their fingers. Basically- it went beyond your basic name calling.
I had done nothing mean to any of these people. I just existed, in my fat body. I stayed strong in school but every day as soon as I got off the bus- I'd break down into tears. My mom had to see me broken time and time again.
The years went on and there were health concerns from our (awesome) doctor. I went to see a nutritionist who gave me a strict diet and exercise plan to follow- I was still in grade school. After trying this for awhile and still not losing weight, they tested me for everything they could think of, especially thyroid issues. (It wouldn't be until nearly a decade later I'd finally be diagnosed with PCOS.) I went from diet to diet, trying to find one that worked.. this led to me developing an eating disorder. It's an eating disorder I still battle to this day and will for every day of my life.
Junior high and then high school came around and I was still one of the fattest kids in school. The taunting escalated. Some kids would physically hit me, again just because I was fat. I was told that I was a "practice girl"- completely undesirable and the only reason someone would have sex with me was to practice. I was told I'd never find someone who actually loved me. I was told I should kill myself. There came to be a time it sounded like a good idea.
I pretended like I loved myself and words didn't bother me- but I didn't and they did. I would always wear pants and at least half sleeves. I would rather risk heat stroke than expose anymore of my fat than I had to. I would go to every class and pray the desks I could squeeze into would be available. (and don't get me wrong- I had friends and not all of my life was miserable- but this is a different kind of story.) I remember one time standing in lunch line, probably around sophomore year- one guy said something smart ass to me and I said something back. He then told me how the entire school made fun of me behind my back, because I was fat. At that point- I finally snapped. Told him I didn't give a fuck.
I had been living this two part life- strong in the face of others- starving myself and hurting myself when alone. I would exercise until I threw up. I was causing severe harm to my body- not because I was fat but because of how I was treated.
One day- I finally couldn't do it anymore. I had a choice of either giving up for good- or starting to actually become the stone cold bitch I pretended to be. I picked the later.
Junior and Senior years went a lot better- but I still wasn't fully there. 18, 19, 20- there was still a lot of self loathing to work through. I was in my 20s before I would bare my legs and arms in public. I have clawed my way up to this point in my life- to where now most of you have pretty much seen me naked. (You're welcome.)
The problem was never my body. It was how my body was treated.
At 25 I'm now strong enough to know that. But not everyone is. So, I implore all of you- talk to your kids about body positivity. Talk to them about kindness. And when you see people old enough who should know better tearing others down? Call them on it.
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