Yet Again

Yet again, my father had just got done asking me a million questions on my weight: whether I hit the gym, what did I do at the gym if so, do I like the gym- an earful. Not once did I get asked how my day went. But it was a usual for him and for everyone else too.

Why couldn't anyone just accept me for the way that I am?

I was a social pariah at its best but my head and heart were in the right place- clearly that didn't matter to society.

Yet again, I was in my room conflicted and baffled by the thoughts that haunt me every night. Struggling to manage my self love over self loathing. I looked at my phone again, a screenshot that read "I am going to make you so proud - Note to Self" flashed before my eyes.

I had to remind my 280 pound, 5'4 figure that I was on a mission to accept myself.

Yet again, someone's comment on my physical appearance had torn me down. At some point all the happiness you've felt in a span of a few days will end because nightmares are apparently prone to happen. That's what I told myself every day to not get my hopes up because those were the first to fall.

Yet again, I pulled away from my pillows to witness the tears of regret, sorrow, pity, and hatred of a girl who believed she was on the verge of a breakthrough of making herself proud but fell right through the cracks instead.

Yet again, I didn't rise above what he said. I thought of all the times I was referred to as "fat". The inner me said it was okay because I was, until everyone used it to hurt me instead.

So I cried because that was my go-to. I didn't lash out or act passive aggresively. Many oblivious people would see my crying as cowering, a sign of weakness, but to me it felt empowering.

Then I stared at the ceiling pondering the thought, "Im not making myself proud, am I?" and the question sat in my mind till I drifted off. I let him get to me, I admit I did. But...

Yet again, I awoke in the morning with a mission to make myself proud.

Yet again, I was disappointed again and again but I had faith and was determined to embrace my "Fat" as victory because my pain reminded me that my heart was still beating and there were people who would want what I had.

My self love and self loathe was what made me who I am even if I preferred the first. And so I am still working on it. Many are still working on it.

The construction of my identity is infinite and the blueprint is very complex but there's progress.

And yet again, I will remind myself of that when my enemies and inner demons are on a prowl.