Inner Battles with Self-Image – Learning to Love Myself

Fat rolls over my pants

With my black shirt it looks like a hill of black licorice

I hate black licorice and

I hate my fat roll over my pants

I’m not good enough to be here

I stick out on tv like Big bird sitting in a kindergarten classroom

My talent is the fact that I am a loser people find interesting

Like a freak-show on the greatest showman

When I look at the tv playback, beside the gorgeous blonde tiny hosts,

I want to stick my fingers down my throat and puke until

I break myself

This is not who I am supposed to be

I am supposed to be pretty

What a disappointment I have become

The version of me that likes the attention hates

The girl with the flabby neck, zero jawline, a big fat face on a big fat neck

I see her in disgust

I thought she was better than that

I never would have brought her out here to embarrass herself

What a mistake

In the mirror or in a small amount of pictures she looks like she could possibly

Fit in close to this world of show and beauty

Oh how she tries

She researches trends and what to wear

Carefully picking out her jewelry, getting her nails done, and finding an outfit

That makes her look the least like herself

The disguise does not help though

She is a wolf in sheep’s clothing

People will be able to see her shining eyes in her big furry face that resembles

The husky dog they were going to put down in the pound

You can take the girl out of the country

You can’t take the fat girl out of the fat girl

When every thin girl around you is labeled as pretty

And you get, that looks nice on you,

The cut of fabric makes you look not so fat

It is so a part of me to be thinking these things

Like the girl who never grew up

She still believes Prince Charming is coming to rescue her

Like Richard Gere did for Julia Roberts

Truth is she has a prince charming but does not

And likely never will feel his love because she is incapable of

Thinking this fat, ugly, girl is loveable like this.

I understand this thinking is wrong

I understand we are all God’s creatures big and small, blah, blah

The truth is I have to fight all the lies my brain tells me

Daily, hourly, and minute-by-minute

It is sometimes so relentless with its punches

I feel it may one day defeat me

Rise above it I tell her

Get up from the ashes

You are better than this sick, whining, dribble-drabble

Fight

Fight like a patriarch trying to save their country

Fight like your life and liberty depends on it

Disguise yourself like a thief in the night and get back what is yours

Don’t let them win

Let her be who she is, talented, loving, creative, and kind

Don’t ruin her with unrealistic expectations of what she should be

Love her with no expectation

Love her soul, not her vessel

She is so much more than that.