blogging gobbledygook and such

Can you be fat and beautiful?

This is not an essay, but self’s incoherent, disorganised thoughts on the subject matter.

When I look in the mirror, I don’t like what I see. At my most euphemistic I would say I’m pleasantly plump and voluptuous. At my most callous, I’m a fugly beached whale. But then I’d think to myself, are you that superficial? That you judge your own beauty by how much you weigh? Then I think again.

On one hand, deep down, I want to be thin. I look at my slimmer classmates and think how well their clothes skim over their body. They never need to suck their stomachs in or constantly update their wardrobe with more dark clothing to give off a slimmer silhouette. They can wear sexier tops and nobody would stare at their boobs! (Because theirs aren’t as big as mine that they spill over a low-cut top for simpleton perverts to ogle.) At my weakest moments I feel like I’m tired of looking perpetually bloated because it makes me feel ugly. It’s harder for me to shop. I have to endure my mother’s undisguised disapproving look when I eat something unhealthy. I feel so self-conscious when I come out of the dressing room, shaking my head to the salesgirl because I couldn’t fit into the clothes. I dislike the elastic marks I get from wearing my tight undies the whole day long.

One the other hand, I don’t want to be so shallow as to feel I am beautiful only if I am thin! I want to love myself because I feel that I’m being the best person I can be inside. I want to think that I look good in that outfit because I have boobs and curves. [Though the curves are more ( ) than ) ( 😆 ] I want to think that although there are prettier girls than me, I have something special that they don’t. I want people to look at me and think, I wish I were as confident as her. I want to love my inner self so much that how my outer self look becomes irrelevant to me. And I think that I can achieve that because I’ve seen larger women who are happier than I am. And their inner self love really shows outside, and it really makes them look so beautiful.

But things stop me. My mother says I should lose weight because it not only makes me look prettier but it’s healthier. So do the television and the magazines; they say I should lose weight for health. My mother also says a bride should look her best in her wedding gown, but I never really take her seriously. I see and listen to these people every day – how can I love my inner self if my outer self is despised? Why is it that being thinner is healthier? Don’t thin people get high cholesterol? Don’t thin people get heart attacks too? Am I doomed and dismissed because I am fat?

I always tell myself that I will lose weight once I embrace myself totally, which is an oxymoron really because if I love myself as I am then, why should I want to lose weight? But at least that way I know I’m not losing weight because my mom wants me to, or that I want to fit into more clothes. Or that I’d stop comparing myself to my skinnier counterparts. Or that I finally cave in into the pressure of media and social expectations. If I lose weight then, I know I’m doing it for my health and myself, not for any other reason.

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