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| You’d better sit down for this one…! |
This post has been written and deleted a number of times. I write it. I feel like a moron. I delete it. I write it. I feel like the biggest bitch in the world. I delete it. Well… You get the picture. And all this happened within the past few days. You see it started on Monday at the gym.
I was bouncing away on the springy mat. And opposite me was a lady. Shorter than me. And fat. Really, very large. And these thoughts staretd on autopilot to run through my head; That’s disgusting, she’s huge, eeewwww look at all those fat rolls, she’s so freaking huge, blah blah blah. Finally the procession of disgusting words ceased. I was embarrassed and disgusted with myself for even thinking it. I scurried out unable to look anyone in the eyes.
And as I drove home after my workout it occurred to me that I hate fat people. Nooooo surely not. How very un-PC of me. I thought. Whoa, hold on. I am a fat person. Holy shit. I hate myself. I had to pull over. Tears streamed down my{red blotchy} face. I got it. This whole thing is so hard for me because instead of loving and supporting myself. I hated myself. I was never going to win while that was the case.
Other people actually have nothing to do with it at all. It is all about me. At some point I decided all those things about myself. That I was disgusting, huge, embarrassing etc etc. And my weight was a measure of how I was doing on the scale of disgusting’ness. Really fat equaled REALLY really bad. And I hated THEM for it.
Argh. Ugliest self realisation moment ever.
I gathered myself and drove home. Promising that I would create some form of affirmation to begin to support and love myself. As I am. Fat or thin. Smart or dumb. Rich or poor. Just as I am. I’m sorry to go all Lousie Hay on you here guys, but seriously, it’s time for that background track to end.
Suger 
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