I feel bad sometimes that I hate the weight so much.
It was the weight, after all, that made me the person that I am. A thin me wouldn't have turned out this well. I picked funny and smart over thin and never really regretted it. I still don't regret it but I wonder if perhaps I didn't give something up along the way. Did I give up the regular life that everybody else seems to have come by so effortlessly? The big lie we fat people tell ourselves is that all the things that didn't happen to us didn't happen because we're fat. I didn't get married cause no man found me attractive enough. Forget the evidence all around me of overweight people with husbands and kids. I know I wear my weight as a shield but what if I had been thin all along and those things still didn't happen for me. What would I blame then? The comforting thing that we tell ourselves isn't terrifically comforting after all. My life is playing out the way it's supposed to regardless of how much I weigh, not because of how much I weigh.
Late night epiphanies are all well and good but how do I turn this into something that will aim me truer? I might just need to leave this one alone for a couple of days and mull. Yep, I may even need to puzz. To paraphrase the immortal Mr Geisel I will puzz and puzz till my puzzler is sore.
where have you gone?
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