Believe it or not, there are worse things than fat.
Mean and judgemental, for instance;
or self-loathing. Hating yourself.
Filled up to the brim and spilling over with anxiety and fear;
or how about lacking in joy or purpose;
unable to identify what lights you up or sparks your creative juices.
Unsure what gifts you bring to the world and afraid to even ask.
To never laugh;
and never give yourself permission to cry.
There are so many worse things than being fat although our world might tell you otherwise.
How about obsessed over your weight and super restrictive;
orthorexic, unable to experience the pleasure of food;
completely rigid and controlling of life and everyone around you;
always looking over your shoulder awaiting the next bad thing;
unable or unwilling to enter into emotional or physical intimacy with another human being. Expert at numbing,
at hiding under a heavy blanket of shame or guilt;
self harming. Self abusive.
Constantly aware of all your shortcomings but blind to your incredible beauty.
You are so much more than the amount of space you take up in the world; there are worse things than fat.
What about angry and spilling rage all over the people you love, afraid to ask for help;
cluttered with mountains of stuff, none of which brings you joy or peace;
a crowd follower. A people pleaser;
filled with hate and violence;
One who tears down but does nothing to build up; a bully;
gorgeous on the outside but dying a slow death on the inside.
Letting the number on a little box dictate if you will be happy or sad each day.
Though you spend 80% of your waking hours hating your body, there are things worse than fat.
Like a woman who bows to another’s desires and crushes her spirit in the process;
one who does not walk eyes and heart wide open;
quick to build a wall, slow to extend mercy.
Bitter and unforgiving;
stuck in pain, unwilling to move forward. Victim.
A person who cannot think for herself, who does not dare to question status quo;
shackled by man made rules;
mired in hopelessness.
You have been shamed and told to cover up but there are worse things than fat.
Not yet understanding that life can be imperfect and beautiful. That joy is a choice;
tossed about by every whim or changing tide;
constantly needing man’s approval.
Not knowing yet how to control one’s tongue or guard one’s thoughts,
that mindset matters and not every story you tell yourself is true;
that you are not hopeless, a failure, good for nothing;
that you can rise above and heal and become who you choose to be.
Wanting to die.
You are precious artwork but you’ve been sold the lie that you are a cheap commodity. There are worse things than fat.
Like believing that your brokenness disqualifies you from love and life;
that you are only valuable according to your ability to perform.
Unwilling to live with gratitude;
unwilling to practice listening. To others. To yourself.
Incapable of giving or receiving love;
forgetting that your physical body is but one part of your whole, amazing, radiant being.
There are definitely worse things than fat.
*This picture was taken when I was a binge eater, hated my body, did not believe in my worth as a human being, had recently gone cold-turkey off drugs and alcohol and was told that I needed a hip replacement. But there were also gifts in this season: my parents provided a safe house for me to begin to heal and get myself together so I could head to college. It was also at this time that I *heard* in my spirit, loud and clear, that I am a teacher. And spending time with my little brothers and sisters was one of the few things in life that helped me feel JOY. I think because they knew nothing about judgement. They just loved me and let me love them back.