Being Fat: A Curse and A Blessing

WARNING: This is gonna be long. If you’re not up to read some whining, then just scroll to the next post, ‘kay?


 
One word, three letters, over a dozen years of resonating shaming and dietary tips (plus a few on having a healthy lifestyle). Yeah, you’ve probably guessed it by now.
 
The word “fat” has always been associated with me since… no, not since I can remember (my first memories go waaayyy back to my 1st birthday). When I was around 7, I think. This is the stage of life when having chubby cheeks and lump-like limbs take a turn from being a pinching magnet followed by gushing remarks to scrunched eyebrows accompanied by slight stutters, trying to use euphemisms to conceal their disapproval of my roundness.
 
And as time passed, it got worse and worse. No matter how smart I was in class or whatever the few achievements I got, the feedback was something like “Good job, you make your parents proud! With that kind of hard work you can succeed in losing weight too, don’t you think?”
 
Geez. Like, really? *cue for eyeroll*
 
Let me tell you, that did some damage in my junior HS years. I had the lowest self esteem and didn’t even like to raise my hands because I was afraid someone would comment on my flabby arms or something. I never really enjoyed getting my picture taken, but it was more apparent in those years that I didn’t really smile in family pics. I didn’t talk much either, only responding with more than two sentences when a relative talked about books or topics that interested me. I started wearing black more and more because it made everyone look slimmer (and it’s neutral so it goes with everything). It got to the point where I cut my hair short for two reasons:
 
  1. Lower maintenance. I hate waiting for long hair to dry.
  2. If my hair was a certain length I could get away with short hair that actually framed my face nicely so it hid its roundness. So, yeah… even my seemingly “short hair don’t care” attitude was initially surfaced by being fat.
 
That stage was also when I realized I had to stop trying to compensate for my looks. So I became lazy. It took a toll for sure. My grades went downhill (though I was far from being labelled as a stupid kid or a delinquent) and I only studied to get a passing grade. When my parents were furious with me I was even relieved sometimes. I thought that, hey, at least they weren’t talking about me looking like a potato.
 
But being fat something I’m no longer ashamed about being fat, fortunately. High school came along and changed all that. I matured enough from all that shaming to not care. I still listen—I mostly do—and I realized that sometimes when people try to address my being fat, it’s purely out of health concerns and nothing more. They don’t talk about getting small-sized clothes or that ever-annoying sneer “Well, once you like someone, what I say will make sense!” kind of remark. I’m genuinely grateful for these kind of people, albeit somewhat being ignorant to other factors that play in health and well-being. At least they don’t  force a beauty standard on me.
Now, I’m actually grateful and still amazed at how much being fat shaped the person I am today. I don’t care how I look so when I do take pictures I don’t mind the results not being perfect as long as my eyes aren’t closed or my face isn’t blurred out of recognition. This led to a staggering two-minute session when I took my yearbook picture. Efficiency at its best! 😀
I’m never perplexed with what I wear. I still wear a lot of black, frankly because I love black these days and you don’t go wrong with black unless there’s a strict dress code in place. I still wear boys’ clothes just because of the quality and its easier to find something that fits. (I do know that even if I lose 60 pounds my shoulders and chest measurements would still hamper me from wearing girls’ clothes with certain cuts.) I still despise wearing skirts, though. They don’t let me sit freely on the ground. It’s just not practical enough for me. *sigh*
I’ve encountered plenty of fat shaming. Enough to differentiate when people just don’t like fat people, and when there’s a concern deeper than my jeans size. In rare occasions I’ve felt that a few people want me to go on a diet simply because they don’t want to see me get bullied. They want me to be triumphant, a success story, but simply don’t know me well enough to know that if I wanted to lose weight, I would’ve done so by now.
Because I didn’t see the point of studying anymore (silly me, actually thinking my looks are the only parameter to my worth) I did become lazy but was still forced to get good grades. I had to be able to capture what people were saying and process information quickly. Now I’m able to stay awake through most class sessions and get the most out of the lectures. As long as there’s not too much to memorize, I can handle big chunks of information in a few minutes and still reiterate the big picture.Sometimes, I manage to give presentations and answer exam questions with a decent mark though I didn’t know what I was blabbering about half the time. This has saved me from numerous bad grades and helps me immensely in debate rounds that I’ve come to love.
Now my only concern is the amount of fat that’s around my organs, because it’s the type of fat that can cause serious damage. Apart from that, sure, I’d rather have the ideal body shape and not have acne and get fabulous hair, but I’m still comfortable with my body—enough to go walking around in shorts with my hairy legs visible to the world.
So, it all ends well, right?
Well, not quite. I’m entering my third year in college really soon, which means I’m closer to the gruesome adulthood. *cringes* And… this means I’m back at the starting point where looks matter and getting a decent outfit could be a determining factor in future job interviews.
Ugh.
It’s not all bad, really. I enjoy looking at clothes, I just don’t like skirts and minimal material clothing that costs a lot of money. I do believe that to truly be comfortable with myself, I need to find that balance between comfortable in what I wear and being presentable, at least. I can still pursue a good image through the way I look without letting it dictate the way I live.
So, not all ends well. But such is life, and for now, that’s good enough for me.

PS. There. Geez, this is a long post. And I’m not even done, I’m just content enough ranting for now. Might be a follow up post.

Sorry, guys. Seven months of being idle and this is what you readers get. Oh well, hope if you read it you get something out of it anyway. Cheers ~
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This.

Just finished watching—binge watching—an anime; Amnesia: Memories. Quite an interesting take on paralel universes. Sweet moments are there too, though not strong enough to be a story. It’s just 12 episodes.

I’m having a conversation—a chat, really—with an old friend from Junior High. He’s one of those people you could just pour out your opinions to, and he’ll try to get the best and last word, but he’ll still listen and really weigh what you have to say as long as it makes sense. And we both could never seem to have a purely casual conversation. It always ends up with picking out each other’s brains. Maybe that’s why we still get along after all these years.

Thinking of memories and heavy reading materials I’ll have to do in a few hours, yet I’m still up at this hour. Good thing I had a nap.

Filled my journal, just a bit. Changed the ink for my fountain pen. Finished two books I’ve put off for months.

Staying up late and feeling sleepy and tired but awake at the same time. Brain racing, fingers typing, eyes dazing back and forth from reality to daydream.

Feeling accomplished because I just finished my finals, queasy from thinking about my grades, excited for the roller coaster of idleness and hecticness this holiday, anxious about my holiday habits.

This. This here.

This feels nice.

I know this feeling.

It feels like heading somewhere. A familiar place I’ve known. Not exactly as I remember it, but I’ve been here before. It feels like coming back for a stay at an old home.

This, Too, Shall Pass

I really wanted to find a rhythm. A balance between tasks, debate, writing, and everything in between. I really wanted to find my pace. I don’t want to run doing everything last minute like it’s a race. I really wanted to find peace. A place where I can simply exist.

This semester, at least so far, is none by the least.

There’s perpetual anxiety not to fall behind on the weekly hectic. A gloom that looms over every waking moment. Stress addressed to me specifically, and just life generally.

Still, I mustn’t forget.

This, too, shall pass.

Weekly Entry (June 1st – 7th 2015)

My first week of approximately 2.5 months being free from formal education! (Albeit, I have to go back a few times to take care of some things.)

So, let’s start with my somewhat amazing scores! And by amazing, I’m not saying I got all As. Well, mostly. I got one A- and a somewhat startling B-, though I didn’t expect to get a gold star on that particular subject anyway. But what’s interesting is… I got a C. Because my lecturer had to go back to his hometown due to an emergency, he couldn’t finish grading all the papers and exams in time and input it in the system. Thus, every student in every class he teaches gets a C, whether they actually got an A or an E (the lowest alphabet in my campus is E. But there’s no A+ either, hmm….)

I don’t really mind, but it leaves me with a problem. You see, if I get a GPA of 3.5, I get a 10% for next semester’s fees. 25% if I get 3.75, and 50% if I get 3.9 or above. If I get an A for this last subject, I’ll get a 25% cut. If not, I’ll only get a 10% cut. I mean, the 15% difference isn’t that huge, but it helps to reduce financial burdens nonetheless. So, yeah. I’m waiting in anxiety for that last letter to appear in my student data.

I’m catching up on sleep, but it’s kinda hard when I have problems keeping my eyes shut before it’s 2 am. Maybe it’s because I take naps? But naps are nice! #teamnaps

If nothing else, I need to be more productive in reading. Poor little books, left untouched and unread in my cramped little shelf! And poor little shelf, being worn down by the weight of my books! I definitely need more book space storage. *grumbles*

I know I wasn’t all keen going into Law, but now I find it more than tolerable, though less than enjoyable. I’m definitely gonna try and keep my grades satisfying. Speaking of law, I wonder if I’ll ever muster up enough determination to go into moot court.

A to-do list while I’m still in college: try MUN, at least once.

Two Days Ago

So, a lot of things happened two days ago. Or at least, that’s relatively a lot compared to my usual mundane day as a plebeian member of society.

It all started a few hours before March 5th. I was utterly confused on whether or not my classes would still run as usual or if I had to attend a public lecture instead. I mixed up my schedules and mistakenly remembered that the latter class which clashed with the public lecture’s schedule at that particular meeting wasn’t really important. I decided to skip it.

The reason is because a friend owed me a treat and due to clashing schedules (oh, that phrase has been the highlight of my life, recently) he could only do so after mid-terms or on that day. Of course, being me, I wouldn’t want to waste a treat.

In the end, I ended up skipping the other, somewhat more important but still not all that vital class. Oh well. I’m usually a good student in that class anyway.

At midnight I actually wrote down a poem. Yeah, a love poem. I’ve been writing around midnight again for the last couple of days. That’s a sign of me being either in deep shit or deep feelings, this particular case being the latter. Don’t believe me? See recent posts—both in this blog and my other one. If you still don’t believe me, oh well. Not my problem.

I decided to come clean and confess rather than regretting never telling and end up asking “what if?” for quite some time. So I slept on that thought.

As I’ve typed before, I got my schedules mixed up. So I ended up making a task for the less important class and skipped the more important one (there goes one absent mark, sigh).

Well, at least my friend still treated me to lunch. A free lunch (plus, ice cream!) can always make my day better, even if just a bit.

Oh, I did confess. And glad to have done it. Why go through unnecessary drama if I could just say something to prevent it? Plus, the both of us are easygoing—to the point I felt like he didn’t really acknowledge my words. Then again, it’s nowhere near a serious condition. So, yeah, I’ll stop now. That’s it on that topic.

But wait—there’s more! I had to hand in a task. One I made entirely on my own. Another highlight of two days ago: I’ve decided to confront (when I can and it’s appropriate) anyone who tries to take advantage of me, especially ones who try and be sneaky about it, or those who don’t pull their weight in tasks.

Seriously, not one out of six people responded in the chat. They think their scores will me just peachy since I’m around. Well, they should think again.

I knew taking law here would mean I’ll come out able to be a harsher person, but I didn’t think I’d have to be stern (and possibly harsh) already in this semester.

Hmm… come to think of it, that’s not really a lot in one day. Just a lot going on my mind and to go through in one day.

That’s still conceivable as “a lot”, right?