It’s On.

Today, two of my coworkers came up behind me and tickled my back-fat like one would a cute, chubby three-year-old.  After some giggling (on their part) and under-breath whispers in Spanish, I waited for them to leave.  Then I walked into the bathroom, shoved a finger down my throat, and became an anorexic.

I jest.  Well, partly.  I did toss my lunch when they walked away, but it would never be habitual.  Don’t get me wrong – it’s tempting.  And I know that to you, I’m just an asshole looking for an easy (albeit stupid) solution.  Well, I am.

I’ve been undeservably blessed to grow up in an environment where personality accounted for something.  Where weight has never prevented me from making friends, attracting boys, being popular… Where intelligence, humor, and compassion were traits worth admiring.  Now, in a harsh reality that makes no exceptions for my inferior once-over, the one thing I get compliments on are my eyes. My color-contact lense covered eyes.  The one part of me that’s fake, that’s not me.

Spite…  How funny is it that the facet of my personality that I’ve always considered to be my downfall, may end up becoming my greatest strength?  I was hurt today.  My ego suffered a bruising like it’s never felt before.  But I have to give them credit; those two unclassy mother fuckers have finally given me the motivation to get myself in shape.  Because the only thing that got me through the beating I gave myself in the gym today was the looks on their faces when one day in the (near) future, the only thing they’ll be saying behind my back is “tengo que ocultar a mi marido, porque esa muchacha es mas hermosa que mi gorda y fea cara.”

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2 Responses

  1. Why do you care what other people think?

  2. It’s the looking glass thing.
    I can only see myself through the eyes of other people. I don’t like the person I am, so as long as I can be someone who others like, I can convince myself that person is really me… and be happy that little bit longer. Pathetic, I know. But even sitting here now, I worry that you, dear Anonymous, judge me unfavorably. It’s easy to fake confidence, but not so easy to believe it.

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