Call me shallow, but I am sure other big girls wonder the same as myself:
What’s it like to be pretty? Irritating? Amazing? Dangerous? Elating? Powerful? Depressing? I am thankful that I am not disfigured (at least facially. My body IS) and all. Two eyes, a nose and a mouth with whole evenly balanced ears. I even somehow managed to avoid a really noticeable double chin at this weight. I mean, there is fat under my chin like the next biggie but it isnt -too- pronounced.
None of this changes one glaring thing about my life: I havent been thin since I was eleven years old. Essentially, when my body started to develop, so did my fat cells. I don’t know why, but that is a major symptom of hypothyroidism and PCOS apparently. Fat girl in middle school, fat girl in high school. Fat ever since. Honestly, the only time I got anywhere back toward the early 200’s was 2003ish (The Summer of Love) when I did a lot of XTC, DeX and other light designer narcotics. Rave scene, etc. I ate sparingly, dropped weight.
Still…not thin. Never had anything other than fat cheeks. Thick wrists. Beefy legs. Thunder thighs. Bad skin. Uneven jaw. Crooked teeth. Dark spots and other blessings of Acanthosis Nigricans. Stretch marks. Brutus the belly. Bottom line aint nothing on or about me ever lined up with the Iron Maiden, aka the Beauty Standard. And I dont think it ever will, weight gone or otherwise.
So I wonder what its like!! For women who have never been big, or maybe were just a little big or had mothers that bothered to get their teeth fixed growing up, who didnt have ecsema, who wore creative ensembles and filled rooms with light, turned heads and made jaws hit floors.
What the hell is that like? All of this is touted like something all women are supposed to be, experience and live. It sounds both horrifying and fun to be attractive. I would love to try it on for a day you know? Like a shapeshifter. I remember being young and always thinking of two things: 1. I was an ugly duckling. ( Now I am an ugly goose. lol) and two: How cool Mystique of the X-men universe was. Because she not only could be anyone, but her favorite form to take was just herself. And in the moves? NUDE herself. So yeah, what is it like? To be small, be courted, be respected, flow through life like a gazelle, be healthy, presentable, adored and encouraged to blossom and evolve? To never worry about clothes that fit or feeling ridiculous in makeup and to sway hearts? I have no idea what this is like. And I kind of want to know. :/
Hell, what’s it like to be average?! I could stand to be there too, you know?
I don’t like not knowing things. I want to know what it is like. I don’t think I will ever know because my health both mental and physical throughout twenty seven years of life has ruined and stretched my skin like an abused stocking. Eczema made sure that when and if I lose weight the collagen in my skin would be non existent, thus insuring it would hang and look like the worst brand of shit when the fat was gone from it. Glass blowing, former abuses from relationships whether self wrought or otherwise and other issues have given me plenty of pronounced scars and discolorations to make absolutely certain that tattooing over most of my surface area (after I realize I am always going to be too poor to get loose skin removed) will be difficult or impossible not only due to just having brown skin, but for all the little marks a plenty that would trip a tattoo artist up.
I will never be pretty. Not ever. It sucks like a son of a bitch to start finally learning this fact and coming to terms with it. There will simply be less of me. And maybe from a distance I will look nice, but up close I will be a total Monet. And lets not talk about it when the clothing comes off, holawd.
So, I guess I better keep wondering forever,right? Eh, I’ll deal with it. I make it my solemn goal to just scratch the surface of average. And I bet that too will be a wildly different experience.
But its nice to dream. <3
…all night long.