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segunda-feira, 3 de fevereiro de 2014

I was seven when I got fat. And fat became my life.

People will tell you your whole life that they care about your health, that they wanna see you happy, that they don't want others talking about you behind your back, and that's why they want you to be skinnier. They'll tell you they wouldn't mind your extra pounds if it wasn't for your health. They'll tell you, without asking for your opinion, that you don't feel good about yourself. That you don't wanna live your whole life like this. They'll tell you how they feel about your body and what you're eating in every occasion they can, and they'll tell you it's only because they care that they're saying this to you. But truth is, fat people are ugly, and no one wants to stare at ugly people, and that's why they tell you all this.

It's true. No one wants to look at their child - especially if they're a girl - and see they're fat. Your parents don't wanna look at you and see their failure in making a pretty girl. They've put all their hopes and dreams into you, and look how it turned out. Better yet, don't look. It'll only make you feel worst, dad.

When you're fat, nothing else you do matters. I'm a good drawer, a good singer, I'm smarter than most of my friends and I read things way ahead of my time, but that's not what people remember about me. That's not what I remember about me. When someone asks me to describe myself, the first thing I think about is "fatty". For two years, I've avoided looking at myself in mirrors I still avoid taking pictures. 

You know, I started going to the gym this month, everyone was so happy. They were never this happy about anything else I've ever done. This week, my grandmother (who is not even a very sweet person) hugged me passionately when I told her, casually, I'd lost 5 pounds. She kissed me in the cheek and said she was proud. She said all she wanted was to watch me become beautiful.

She said all she wanted was to watch me become beautiful.