I’d like to be able to tell you
That I’ve won the battle with my body.
That I’m down to a respectable weight
And that nothing will distract me
From that goal.
But weight loss is a continuous battle.
It is never won.
It defies logic.
People look at a fat person
And think that something’s mentally wrong.
Why else look like that?
Why not just stop stuffing food into your mouth?
But it’s not that easy.
There was never a time in my life when I was thin.
Even going back into my toddler years,
I was a fat child.
In elementary school I was the source
Of many laughs.
The interesting thing is that I’ve never
Been a big eater.
You would never have caught me with
My plate mounded high and
Shoveling food down faster than a dog.
But here I am, years later and still fighting
The same old battle.
I don’t like the way I look.
I’m embarrassed when I put on my
Swim suit and walk out on the deck.
When I picture my floppy arms
Coming out of the water.
I’m humiliated when I sit next to skinny people
And see that one of my thighs equals two of theirs.
And I’m tired of the fight.
It exhausts me, the simple act of eating.
Or not eating.
Filling myself with fluid so that my stomach
Will be full and I won’t take that extra bite.
And so I would love to tell you
That I’ve won the battle so that you would smile
And be proud of my accomplishment.
But I can’t.