Sunday, July 15, 2012
I cannot wait for my weight to be a non-conversational issue. People in my presence feel a need to excuse themselves for indulgence (because at least they're not as big as me), reprove themselves (lest they find themselves as big as me), or approve themselves (since they must be doing something right, because they're not as big as me). Others often assume I am the size I am due to what I eat. Who would be surprised to know, that more often then not, I eat as a pescatarian (one who's diet includes fish but no meat)? I eat organic this-and-thats, I don't use bleached flour/sugars etc. Why use ranch when you can whip up your own healthy vinaigrette, I say? "You eat like a bird!", I hear when sharing a meal, accompanied by the full body scan that rivals the most advanced MRIs, their poor troglodyte brains striving to understand why me so fluffy (grunt grunt, scratch). It gets frustrating, because no one stops to think. Think that perhaps someone may struggle with one or more unspoken medical conditions that give one a propensity to hold extra pounds. Or perhaps one is on a long-term medication that makes every pound one struggles to loose amount to what seems to be an ounce. Or maybe one comes from a family of husky and curvy people, built this way since generations past. No one thinks before the opinions/suggestions woven in conversations come spilling out like unfiltered bile. What if I commented on their odd fashion sense, their bulbous nose or protruding ears and teeth? Not so cool, huh? Yeah, but I don't roll like that, puts bad energy into the universe and stuff. But a day soon come, when I will be healthy on the inside and the outside because I'm now officially engaged to a Treadmill (we're registered at Target, Macy's and Whole Foods). Or, as an OG told one of her haters, "Honey, I can always loose weight, but you gon always have that face." Nuff said.