My love and I went out to dinner last night. As we entered the restaurant I noticed many patrons looking intently at a couple in the middle of the dining area. I couldn’t help but stare too. The guy-tall, slim and incredibly good looking and his gorgeous girlfriend ate away, laughing and holding hands. We took our seats and Mister told me to stop staring, but I couldn’t. The girl sitting at the table next to us laughed at the couple, “Omg, she’s so fat, how did she get a hot guy like that?” At that very moment, in a Hollywood-like movie gesture, and as if to flip off his audience, he stroked his girlfriend’s face and uttered such a sweet symphony, “You’re so beautiful, baby. I’m so lucky to have you.”
So justifiably, laughing girl shut her face. I admired their strength as a couple and a torrent of memories washed over me. I was once in her shoes. I was the plus size girl that people stared at as I dined with my ex, a 6’4 American with looks that have been compared to the likes of Leo Dicaprio (I disagree, personality can make a person so ugly).
Over six years ago I was in an unhealthy relationship. I lost my sense of self, the weight piled on and my self esteem plummeted. On numerous occasions, when I went out with the ex people would stare, laugh or even flirt with him right in front of my face. “He’s going to leave you if you don’t take care of yourself and lose weight,” an aunt would say at every family gathering. Needless to say, this aunt is single and almost 50.
I have been left to wonder, why does my weight have to define what I am deserving of? It doesn’t. A few years ago I could rock skinny jeans in a size 10 (US 8). However, my relationship with ex-Leo made me feel like such utter shit that I ate myself to a size 20 (US 18). Our relationship ended and within a year I was size 12 (US 10). I’ve been called fat and it’s not being called fat that bothered me. I’m concerned for the idiot calling me fat because their brain does not register the fact that there is more to me than my weight. I am a person of worth.
I have grown up with six beautiful sisters (one biological sister, the rest first cousins. Our mother’s are sisters) all of whom are far from plus size. This is due to genetics, my maternal grandfather is Chinese.
Sisters & Me in the middle
Sisters & Me-I’m in the middle (curly hair)
I adore my sisters because my weight has never been an issue to them and they love me as I am. If you surround yourself with loving people, this will only further your appreciation of self and your sense of worth. Being beautiful is not about weight or how others perceive you; it is about how you perceive yourself and how you project yourself to others.
I’m now rockin’ a size 16 (US 14). Society considers this to be ‘plus size’. I have spent a copious amount of time debating with myself; “Should I lose weight?”
I have reached a point of realization. I will maintain a healthy lifestyle but I will not let my weight define who I am. As long as I don’t accumulate rolls that lead me to the danger of tumbling down a hill, I will embrace who I am rather than what weight I am.
Let me show you.
Love & laughter,