I am obese.
I am not over exaggerating this either. In fact, I am medically obese.
This news is terrible to a young women who was taught to grow up and look skinny, to look perfect, to prove people wrong.
Throughout my life I have been self conscious about my appearance, my personality, my life in general. I had to get the best grads. I had to have good hair. My clothes must be new. My teeth must be white and not how they are now- which is a large overbite with two large front teeth.
And this was when I was only ten. I made sure to shave when I hit puberty. I tried my best at school. I tried to be friendly and have people like me.
But for some reason I wasn't happy. When I was young I was depressed. In grade 5 I would self harm. I took the blade off a sharpener and cut my wrists. Every time I was scared and every time I secretly hoped that it would end my life.
What hurt the most was that my family rejected me. My step mom noticed my cuts, the whole family did. And no one spoke a word. They didn't even blink at it. They walked away.
When I came home from school I started locking myself in the room, blaring heavy metal. Yet I would still hear my sisters make fun of me with their friends.
I truly lost myself. Even when I was so young. I didn't come out of my room except for school. I barely ate. My life was hell. All the while I wanted to be perfect. I wanted to be like my sisters- skinny, social, accepted. Loved.
At the end of grade 6 I truly though my life would not get any worse. But it did. I had to move because my dad and his wife got in fights. They were toxic. I was heading to Labrador alone. I waited a few days with family I never met, alone without my full sister. Who I was attached to even though she couldn't hate me worse.
Emotionally unstable, alone for so long, and dying, it ruined my childhood. How I was supposed to be growing up. I don't know how to hold a conversation, I get scared with crowds, I can barely talk to my family still.
But it is better now. Years I was self harming and trying to get attention. But then I met him. He was my touch stone. He made me feel as if I was truly loved for once. As if I was special. It started with him. He who would somehow make me talk. He who backed my up and made sure I wouldn't cry too much. He who would hold me and cherish me.
I am not saying that to have a good life, to be better, that you need a man in your life. Or a women. But for me, he was. He made me a better person.
I stopped caring for what people thought. I stopped letting people hurt me. I slowly stopped self harming. I let myself eat. I let myself be happy and feel good about who I am.
I am doing good in school. Not the best of the best, but good. Much better than I thought. I even started planning out what career I want. And it has to do with the ocean.
Even though I may not look the best, even though my teeth are still flawed, my conversation skills pale in comparison to the next, I am still happy.
Being obese, with how I grew up and what I was taught, I am realizing that I am only concerned about my health. I am scared how old I will make it. I am worried that I won't be here for a future family. I am scared I will leave him, the one who was always there for me.
I don't fully care about how I look in the mirror. Sure, I still want to feel pretty and have my eye brows done. Or a little bit of make up on. But in general, I know I am beautiful. Obesity does not define how beautiful you look. It defines your health.
And only when you are risking your life should you be worried about your weight. Your fat percentage. No body should let themselves be in a position where your life is in danger- even if your family left you. Even if you grew up with a sad life story. Because things will change, and things will get better. But only if you allow them. You need to work for it. Sometimes miracles do happen, just like he happened for me. But after I worked, and I still am.