The Ode of a Fat Girl
I woke up this morning
Roughly at about…7am
Although I set my alarm for 6
I woke up this morning and told myself that today
Well, today would be different.
As I continue to tell myself.
E v e r y d a y
Today is this crisp, cold but sunny b l u e skied day
Blue is my favourite colour
Blue - the paint on my bedroom walls
Blue as in those walkers cheese and onion crisps
Blue as in the packet that’s in my bin from late night snacking the night before
And when I say packet, I mean more than one
And the chocolate wrapper.
Yes; that was me who emptied the biscuit tin late last night
Bathing in the vanilla crumb pool between my sheets
Floating, S l e e p i n g
But I told myself that today would be different.
I’m going to be healthy.
I’ll Cut down the carbs
I’ll Cut down the fat
Breathe a little less
Sucking in my lungs so much
I can’t actually breath
I’ll fit into that size 14 dress.
Although I’m already thinking about the Chinese I’m going to order tomorrow night,
Reciting the menu numbers in my head like some sort of fat girls’ times table.
41, 45, 77, 89
I feel like I’m back at school
But suddenly I am back at school
I look across the room
And that stick thin bitch Rebecca
Is giving me a sort of dirty look that says
“you’re never going to be one of us”
You’re never going to be one of us
You’re. not. one. of. us
And the years of torment I carry on
As I sing these lines to myself in every waking breath
f l o a t i n g
But today is going to be different
I tell myself that her MissGuided dress
has nothing on my Marks and Spencer’s linen blouse anyway
Yet I see on the dance floor it is everything.
Those skinny hips bump and grind to the latest Kanye west single
Whilst I mouth the lyrics but it’s a song that I can’t sing along to
But I’m still mentally adding the same dress to my skinny girl wish List
Crop tops, pencil skirts, tight-fitting outfits
My wish list is a graveyard for inclusive sizing.
I look in the mirror,
Breathing in a little less,
I suck in my lungs so I can feel like one of them.
But I am not one of them
And today I don’t need the reminder.
Mute the alarm,
I’ve heard you enough times.
I take myself back to bed.
41, 45, 77, 89
And chuck in a number 12 for good measure
It’s been a tough day
And the diet can start tomorrow
Thank you for reading! This is a piece I wrote after years of yo-yo dieting, annual jean upsizing, and a constant effort to eat away the lack of self-confidence I brought to the table. Learning to love myself is a constant race and I am nowhere near the finish line yet. But as truly cliche as it may be, it is a marathon, not a sprint - besides, I have never been good at running anyway.