Fat Girl

"You probably smell like bacon grease!"

"Ugh, look at this whale."

"If you would just stop eating so much, you'd be fine!"

"You ever get off the couch and run, fat ass?"

This is just a tiny sampling of what I hear every time I speak up about an issue I find important. Men who have obviously never looked in a mirror sneer and scream at me. Women who drink that "detox tea" that gives you diarrhea and eat kale three times a day dare whisper it behind my back as if their entire identity isn't based around their Instagram influencer title.

It doesn't matter that I'm trying. It doesn't matter that I go to the gym three times a week, count calories, stay away from red meat, and eat plenty of fruits and veggies. They don't care that I have a family history of hormone imbalance and weight gain. I'm a fat girl, and that's enough reason to dehumanize and hurt me.

Fat = lazy, selfish, greedy, stupid.

Or so you would think. I have seen size 00 girls wolf down thousands of calories per day. I've heard them bragging about snorting lines and popping "Special K" like it's nothing, but it's all cool as long as they have flat stomachs, right?

Fat girls starve, cry, and commit suicide because to you, they aren't worth the skin they're in. They aren't worth the space they inhabit. Who cares if your heart explodes from a lethal dose of cocaine? If you're thin, you're in!

Tell me, if my size 16 is too much for you, when will I be good enough? When will I be worthy of oxygen?