Diary of a Fat Girl- Part 3


It really isn't funny at all.

Isn’t it strange how some things from the past we can recall with total clarity while what we had for breakfast this morning totally eludes us?  I remember starting at a new high school after the school year had already started.  It was 1972 and at this particular high school, 8th graders were included as opposed to being in middle school.  It was hard enough being the new girl, much less being a “subbie” (that is what the upper classmen called us).  It was also more difficult because I was overweight.  I was not extremely obese at that point in my life, but I was bigger in many ways than most of the other girls…hell, even some of the guys!  I have always been tall as well as big, so that also put me in the spotlight. I remember one of my nicknames (given to me by a boy) was “moose”.  I did not particularly enjoy that nickname, but it was infinitely better than “fatty fatty two by four, couldn’t get through the bathroom door” or fat ass, lard ass, thunder thighs….and the list goes on.

 

I had made friends with several people (quite easily) because I decided I would NOT be a silent wallflower.  I have always been friendly and easy to get along with and I never knew a stranger.  Like most high school kids, they divided into groups or “factions”.  In our school, it was the geeks or nerds…the jocks…the far-outs or stoners…and then the kids who pretty much fit in wherever they wanted.  I was one of those kids, with the exception of the jock group.  Although I had friends in that group, I never fit in with them because I was not athletic.  I did, however, hang out with the far-outs and the nerds.  I had good friends in both of those groups.  Rather than being athletic, I was given the gift of song…so I joined the chorus.  When I watch the show Glee, it kind of reminds me of my high school days because chorus geeks were not exactly in the “in-crowd”.

So, my life in high school was not all bad.  I had some great friends, did my chorus thing and got decent grades.  Then there were the times when I would come home from school crying.  Someone had said something or done something to hurt me.  I was never able to shake off things like that.  I guess it’s because I always wore my heart on my sleeve…still do.  I remember one incident so distinctly.  It’s like it happened only yesterday, when in fact it was 38 years ago.

Two girls (names will be left out) came up to me in the hall one day and told me that one of the football players (again, no names) had a crush on me.  They gave me a note that was supposedly from him.  I opened the note and read it and it said that he thought I was hot and then proceeded to ask if I wanted to go steady.  I should have listened to that little voice in my head that told me they were playing a mean joke on me.  But I didn’t.  I guess I just wanted it to be true because the football player was so cute.  I should have known better.  The note said that if I wanted to go steady, that he was going to put his ring in his desk and that I should get it after class.  Silly me, as soon as the bell rang and the kids cleared out, got up and went over to the  desk and started rummaging around inside looking for the ring.  All of a sudden, I heard a lot of laughing and giggling coming from the doorway to the classroom.  There stood the two girls and a few other people they had clued in on the joke.  My heart fell as I realized a cruel joke had been played on me.  I can’t remember for sure if they had told the football player about the joke or not.  All I knew is that I felt like someone had knocked the breath out of me.  Hot tears flooded my eyes and streamed down my face as I ran down the hall.  I went home sick that day and was out for the next two days afterward.

I never got an apology from those girls.  I don’t even know if they really knew how badly they had hurt me or if they even
cared.  I often wonder if karma came back around and bit them on the ass.

More later……..

The opposite end of the scale. It's not funny either.
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6 thoughts on “Diary of a Fat Girl- Part 3

  1. You’re story touched me. Severine again, but I really wanted to tell you how close to home this is. I’m 17, 5’3″ and about 200lbs. It’s not because I don’t want to get in shape, but I have depression. Sometimes I don’t eat for days, sometimes I eat days worth of food. I’ve been tormented since I was in fifth grade because I was the ‘fat girl’. These words were also made more hurtful because I am Black and there comes this certain standard of beauty in the black community that my weight wouldn’t allow me to reach. I couldn’t stand being around all the skinny ‘pretty girls’ so I didn’t make female friends. I hung around the boys instead. I was also smart which didn’t help. I was always the girl who was a friend…never the girl friend. I began to hate myself because I couldn’t be like them, i couldn’t be skinny and pretty and ‘stupid’. I was never what they wanted and I internalized it.
    High school has been hell. All my internal anger became my greatest weapon- my words. I learned to speak with venom and it became my weapon of choice against those who came at those close to me. My friends would all swear that I’d defend them to the end, but if someone spoke harshly of me I just ignored them and bottled up the pain. I forgot how to cry and it all was held inside. I got my first boyfriend in 9th grade and we dated for 9 months before I broke it off. He just wanted sex and though he claimed he liked my figure (i was still a pudgy gal) i couldn’t believe him. He cheated on my more times than I could count, but I wouldn’t let him go because I didn’t think anyone else would want me. It ended when another guy came around who seemed to treat me better, but we hardly lasted 6 months before i found out it was just for the sex and when I wouldn’t put out he went elsewhere. I didn’t give it up to either boy, but the pain from their deception ruined me. Two guys in a row had lied and cheated on me. I was through. I promised myself I would never care again, that my heart was forbidden from opening, and I was just going to give it up and move on with my life.
    Then I met my current boyfriend and it changed. He didn’t ask about sex, he didn’t want to know anything about it, but he wanted to know how I’d style my hair, how’d i pick my shirts, and where I learned to sing. He wanted me to teach him how to whistle, to help him learn to draw better, and to help him gain back the confidence the women before me had stripped from him with their unfaithfulness. He was so much like me and he was so very much into me. I am…curvy 🙂 Very. Sometimes I can’t stand all of my curves, but everyday I’m thankful for him and his devotion to making me see that I am beautiful in a size 16 and that I don’t need to fit into a 3 to pretty.
    Sorry for the life story, but i couldn’t help but share! You’re an inspirational writer 🙂

    1. Severine, bless your heart. I sympathize with you so much. It can be hard for anyone that is a little different…especially in school. If someone does not conform to the “norm”, should their lives be any less happy than those that do? Like you have surely heard said before…kids can be cruel. That is true, but I find that most often than not, children emulate their parents…both the good AND the bad. Parents need to instill into their children that people should be treated the way THEY want to be treated…no matter what. I am so happy you found someone who accepts you for YOU….the person who is inside you as well as your outside. You ARE beautiful…never forget that! hugssss

  2. Dear Wolfmom,

    I found your blog on WHOF, and started reading. I admire you for being such a wonderful mom, and wonderful woman. Your posts about being fat moved me, and your love for your son amazes me. I was reading one just now when I noticed you said you can no longer sew leather because of the RA in your hands. That completely shocked me. I too have RA, am overweight due to the massive amount of steroids, and while I have no idea what sexuality my son is (he is only 5), I am positive that it will not matter one bit to me. I’m so glad I found your blog, it’s really inspiring to me. Your son is so lucky to have you in his life.

    1. Moselle, thank you so much! I am happy you found my blog and that in some small way, it could inspire you! We all have a story to tell…some of them heartbreaking. I was sorry to hear about your RA and weight issues. I know how hard it is. Keep your chin up and never forget YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. Keep on being a great mom to your child. No matter what his sexuality, I know you will be there for him. hugggs

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