Who Do You Think You Are...

Psalm 139:14 "I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well."

I really wanted to title this blog post "An Open Letter to the Jerkfaces I Met on My Walk Today" but decided that didn't really fit with my song-based titles. And I feel more comfortable writing and thinking that no one reads my posts. And you just know those "open letters" tend to go viral. 

So, rather than an open letter with a title that was not so nice to strangers I don't even know, I am coming to my readers with an open heart. A bruised heart. A naive heart. A heart that still believes in the good of people. A heart that has the mantra of "Be kind for you know not what people are going through."

I am writing this post in frustration. In sadness for what our society has become. In hopes that it will fall into the ears of even one person who forgets to "be kind." 

It is no surprise to me that I am fat. I have been fat my entire life. I don't remember a time when I wasn't fat. Maybe when I was a baby.  I was only 7 pounds, 14 ounces at birth. It has not been a secret to me that I am fat. It's been written into my file since I was around nine years old, and I needed a letter from my doctor to play sports at school. The letter had the word OBESE written in red ink and underlined twice. I was horrified. I knew I was fat but to see it written down like that was hard for me. Not enough for me to change my lifestyle necessarily, mostly because of my love for cheeseburgers and fries. But it stung a lot. And my whole life has been about navigating life as a fat person. 

Now, I'm not looking for sympathy for myself. I am fat. But I'm not necessarily happy I am fat. I know about the risks. I know that I have a family history of obesity and cancers, high cholesterol and high blood pressure, joint pain and knee problems. I get that being fat is most likely killing me sooner rather than later. 

And I am also not looking to be any sort of ambassador of the "body positive" front. I am not proud of the skin I am in. I work very hard to pretend to be confident and end up volunteering for a lot of stupid things to practice confidence and public speaking and putting myself out there. I am not proud of my body. My flabby stomach is fat, not just the remnants of being pregnant with babies. My stretch marks are not beautiful to me. They are from years of neglect of my body and yo-yo dieting trying to make myself more acceptable to myself and society. I don't need people telling me "You're beautiful the way you are" or "You're more than a number on the scale." I get those things. But I don't feel like I should be talked out of thinking I'm fat. I am. 

But, just because I am fat doesn't give anyone an excuse to not be kind. People don't know what I've been through. People don't have any idea that I was a high achiever in school and that I felt a ton of pressure on myself to perform well in everything that I did. So in stress I would sneak food or buy candy from friends or hide and hoard food in my room to eat my anxiety away. People don't know that I had to weigh in front of the other students as a sophomore and was mortified when the scale read 240 pounds but went home and gorged myself on pizza. People don't have any idea that I weighed 220 pounds as a sophomore in college, and when I was raped he held his hand over my mouth and told me to "enjoy it because this was the only way my fat *** was ever getting any." People don't know that I'm a single, widowed mom doing my best to not only take care of myself and work full time and keep up on house chores and yard work and volunteer as much as a can at my girls' school, but also provide for my family and raise my girls in this world as strong Christian young ladies who are confident and smart and don't grow up with the same feelings their mother has and the pressure on me for those reasons also makes me turn to food sometimes. 

But, none of those things that people don't know define who I am. So this post, this rant, isn't about any of that. Being obese most of my life has given me a pretty thick skin. And although it does sting a bit when things happen, I have chosen to rise above and think about the things I have accomplished. 

So, thinking back on past embarrassing experiences: to the lady who looked in my cart and told me if I didn't buy cupcakes I wouldn't be so fat: You have no idea that I work hard to plan menus and buy the right foods such as fruits and vegetables and to not be addicted to something I have to face every single day. To the lady that stopped me and told me that leggings were not meant to be worn by people of my size: You're maybe right. That's probably why it took me almost nine months to convince myself to wear them, and only then under an oversized shirt or a dress but I rock them anyways and pray people like you don't comment loud enough for others to hear. And then try to keep wearing them without seeing your face as I pull them on. To the man tonight on my walk that yelled obscenities paired with the word "fat" as you laughed and drove by: You don't know that I signed up for my first kickboxing class just an hour earlier or that I started my third round of my Couch to 5K app yesterday or that you chose those words as I was on mile one of my mile and a half walk. To the impatient man who yelled that he doubted that I could cross fast enough for him pulling all that weight: I lost four pounds this morning. And hauling my 235 pound self through a crosswalk is a lot easier than it was when I was 361 pounds. 

To all of them, and others who just can't handle being kind: who do you think you are? I KNOW who I am! Look at the Psalm I posted at the beginning of this post! I am fearfully and wonderfully made! I am a daughter of the King. I am firmly in His hands and He is guiding me through this life. He was there for every moment of unkindness, protecting my heart and soul, protecting my thoughts of myself. He loved me oh so much at 361 pounds and He loves me oh so much at 235 pounds and He will love me oh so much at 165 pounds when I get there. 

Be kind! You don't know what others are going through. You have no idea! Who do you think you are? I hope that you KNOW that God loves you! I hope you KNOW that you are His child. I hope you KNOW that you are forgiven! By Him and by me!

Who do you think you are? You are loved and amazing and special, no matter your size or shape, no matter your race or ethnicity, no matter your religion or creed, no matter your gender or sexuality. Be kind! For we are all fighting battles!

So who do YOU think you are? I'd love to hear your answers as you reflect on this. Be kind!