Yes.
It's Friday.
and payday.
and the end of the month.
and I blaaaazed past my sales goal.
and that means a husky commission check.
and it started with Starbucks.
and a kiss.
and this weekend is going to be great.
and I might even go to IKEA.
Yes.
It's Friday.
and payday.
and the end of the month.
and I blaaaazed past my sales goal.
and that means a husky commission check.
and it started with Starbucks.
and a kiss.
and this weekend is going to be great.
and I might even go to IKEA.
Yes.
My morning started with the usual once-over
of my typically average Facebook feed.
and then i came across a post titled:
"Im sorry but if your fat its your fault and you should be shamed for it. This is the problem with America everyone is becoming a big FAT baby about every single thing. Sorry not sorry!"
I'm not friends with this person.
I don't know who he is.
I don't know what has made him so angry.
But as I read through the +50 comments about
healthy body fat percentages,
"reasons" why people are fat,
and the overall consensus that
being overweight always and indefinitely means
laziness,
food addiction/dependency,
and a detriment to society.
As much as we'd like to think we have trained our eyes and judgement,
Healthy. Isn't. Uniform.
Reading back through those comments
(and what seems to me to be an insincere concern
for the obese's health,
stemming from the repeated notion that
you are 100% responsible for your fatness)
those paragraphs full of facts and information
lack personal experience:
You can't tell me how easy it is to be skinny
if you don't know what it means to
struggle.
You can't blame being fat on being lazy
when you have no idea
how hard I work.
You can't lecture me about
"altering your metabolism"
until you know what it's like
to not have one.
I am not here to defend any body type in particular.
I am not here for pity,
or glory
or even an apology.
When my morning is ruined by hateful comments
towards a group of people
I consider myself a part of--
a group of people that
(in cases like mine)
don't always willingly relate with each other,
someone has to speak up.
There is no excuse for shaming.
"It is no one's job to defend themselves as being
worthy of existence."
I've been joking (not really) about
burning my closet down
and starting over.
and then i made the mistake of taking a trip to
forever21.
(i'm not. i'm 24)
never again.
The thing is that
i spent all morning on www.gabifresh.com and realized:
i'm boring.
i care too much.
did i mention i'm boring?
I realized i don't live in
new york/chicago/LA/paris
and that it's not everyday i need to be
fashion-blog photo-ready.
it's just that.....
it's time to wear what i want.
fliplessly.
I GOT A RAISE.
and i'm driving around in a new car.
and my insurance check came in for the loss of Donny.
and i got a decent hair cut.
and i have a great doctor.
and roommate.
and family.
and the holidays are on the way.
and fall.
and I'm closer to peace than i ever could have imaged.
and I'm not afraid to jinx it.
These things are irrelevant to luck.
and i'm driving around in a new car.
and my insurance check came in for the loss of Donny.
and i got a decent hair cut.
and i have a great doctor.
and roommate.
and family.
and the holidays are on the way.
and fall.
and I'm closer to peace than i ever could have imaged.
and I'm not afraid to jinx it.
These things are irrelevant to luck.
I sure do miss us.
We are often the least grateful
in the times when we have the most to be thankful for.
I hated today, and today slapped me in the face
in the form of an overflow of blessings.
So many,
in fact,
that I feel like an absolute brat.
Instead of giving me a reason to stop complaining
God gave me 14.
and they won't stop coming.
My sister is gone.
My job is ungrateful.
My throat is rebelling.
My hair is bad crazy.
My body is puffy.
My closet is boring.
I really don't like you, Today.
You are more than welcome to leave me alone.
My job is ungrateful.
My throat is rebelling.
My hair is bad crazy.
My body is puffy.
My closet is boring.
I really don't like you, Today.
You are more than welcome to leave me alone.
