There Is No Loving This Body

Photo by Morgan Basham on Unsplash

I really wish that I was one of those fat-positivity people.

Someone who honestly feels comfortable in their skin, no matter how large or small it is; someone who really believes that a bikini body is whatever body that happens to go into a bikini; someone who is not ashamed of the way that their body jiggles and rolls.

(I just want to take a moment to note that I am talking about me in this article. Me, me, me, me, me.I am being self-centered. I am judging me. I am judging my body. I am not judging you or your choices. I am too busy judging myself to judge you or your body or your choices. Chances are, I think you’re awesome. Rock on.)

I wish that I could like myself. I have had almost twenty-eight years to grow into this body, all of them as a Super-Fat; but I do not feel comfortable with it. I am not at peace at it. I never have been. It seems that, to me, for me to appreciate my body is akin to someone admiring the shipcraft of The Titanic — as they’re standing on the deck of the sinking ship.

There is something seriously wrong.

There are a lot of people who don’t like the way they look. Who would write the same things about themselves. Most of them are half my size, or less. I won’t discount their struggles or their mental anguish. They are beautiful. They are brilliant. They are seeing…