A weighty situation.
[snip]
I don’t know why, but talking to that lady really upset me. I wanted to yell at her, but when I got in my car to go home, I started crying instead. My mom said that while I was in there and she was asking me questions, I looked PISSED. And yeah, I fucking was, okay? Who is this lady to tell me that I’m incapable of being happy or healthy because I’m fat? I ride my bike 5 miles a day, and go to the gym 3-4 times a week and do an extra 30-45 minutes of cardio on top of that. I couldn’t do that two years ago.
My mom was super gung-ho about getting me to do this. Hearing the way my mom talked about herself as “disgusting” and “chunky” just made me wonder what she actually thinks of me. I mean, she’s been telling me that I’m too fat my entire life. And despite that, I managed to get over it and feel comfortable with how I am.
So that bitchy lady can take all of her stupid leading questions, trying to get me to admit that I’m unhappy, and shove them right up her un-fat ass. I’d rather be a fatass than operate under the illusion that something is wrong with being fat. As long as I’m happy, and healthy, who the fuck cares what size I am?
It’s totally reasonable to feel pissed off and upset at this woman’s behavior. It’s also extremely probable that underneath the front she’s projecting, there’s an extremely damaged person. Sometimes the best way to deal with people like that is to show them how very little their opinions affect us. Confidence unsettles their beliefs.
