A friend who is struggling with self-acceptance asked me how did I learn to make peace with the fact that I am fat. She wanted to know how I overcome insecurities, self-hate, and body shaming, all because she is not happy with herself.
“I don’t understand the question,” I replied.
She repeated herself.
“I still don’t understand. What’s your question?” I asked, confused. She must have thought I’m stupid.
I was never skinny, to begin with. I have always been fluffy. I remember my teachers in grade school calling me “bilog-bilog”, “sunny pig”, “chubby” and I grew up being called “taba” at home. Which are all endearing to my ears.
I wear a size 27 jeans in grade school. Which means most of the time my mom would buy my clothes in the adult section.
But what I don’t remember is feeling insecure about it, I don’t recall a time where I faced the mirror and did not like what I see and no one has ever been successful in body-shaming me. They may have tried, but they weren’t able to get through my fats. Let alone in my head.
I don’t remember going through a phase where I wanted to lose weight because my classmates were teasing me (they tried but I never cared) or a guy I like might not like me because I wear an XL shirt, heck sometimes XL doesn’t even fit.
I learned how to dress for my body type. Which means, I wear whatever the hell I want. One time I was in Bora and I overheard someone say that I shouldn’t be wearing a swimsuit because I’m fat. Bitch, we are at the beach. What do you want me to wear? A spacesuit?! WHAT IS AIR? HAHAHAHAHA
But what about stretch marks? GURLLL THAT IS FINE! If it doesn’t bother you, then that’s their problem. Strut like a champion. If it does bother you, then cover up but not too much that you would look like you’re about to star in The Mummy Returns.
The key is to be comfortable and confident in your own skin.
I self hate. But for other reasons. Academic reasons. I hated myself for not being good at Math or Science. You know, important stuff. But I don’t remember breaking a sweat for not looking pretty enough, sexy enough, or confident enough.
There were guys telling me they would court me only if I wasn’t fat. That I have the face, but not the body. (Bitch, what do you need my body for? You should have bought a Barbie instead). Naturally, that sounds hurtful and that would send a girl home crying. Me, I laugh at their face. Because I’ve got 99 problems and my rolls ain’t one! LOLOLOL. Anyone who can’t see past my bilbil does not deserve my time. I don’t let boys be mean to me.
No one or no guy is ever worth saying no to a pizza for. No one is that fucking special. You can be Piolo Pascual and you still wouldn’t be that special to make me say no to that slice.
God created cows so we can have their milk and make cheese and create pizzas! WHO ARE YOU TO DEFY GOD AND DENY ME THAT? HAHAHA!
Calling me fat, tabachoy or whatever variation you can make out of that won’t pierce through my spirit. It’s going to take a lot more than that. Attacking the superficial is the weakest and lamest move you can do to someone.
I learned about self-love at a very young age. I know that I am so much more than what social norm is trying to dictate.
Most of the time being fluffy in a sea of skinny kids makes me stand out. Identifier even!
I’m not #GGSS so please don’t get me wrong. I’m not here to tell you that inner beauty is what matters either. (Although plus points ovkors if you are beautiful on the inside!) I am also not encouraging you to let go of yourself, and be unhealthy. Obesity is not a joke. Get educated. I just want to say that, you do you and nobody should tell you otherwise.
Fat is just a word. It can only hurt you if you allow it to.
To my friend, and to whoever is reading this that might be going through some self-love journey, I’ll leave you with a quote from one of my favorite movies, The Princess Diaries
“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” —Eleanor Roosevelt
Extra rice, please!