Growing up overweight in a Hispanic outspoken family was not a walk in the park. Ever since I can remember, I was chubby. The cute, cuddly chubby but still chubby. I actually was never bullied in school for being slightly overweight nor did strangers poked my fat. The way I learned that I was not of ideal weight was actually by a family member. Can you believe it? Family! Somehow little May being polite, sharing her toys, getting good grades or doing her chores, was not enough since my cheeks seemed to look like a chipmunk harvesting nuts for the winter. My supposed ‘fat” made me a target for unwelcome comments in family functions. Being called “gordita” (fat) at such a young age changed the way I perceived myself. I often would compare myself to my thinner friends and avoided clothes for “flacas” (thin girls). When explained to friends why I would wear a t-shirt over my bathing suite at age 9, they would be upset and tell me over and over again that I wasn’t fat. Sadly by that time, I was totally convinced I was a whale and was certain people saw me as one. All it took was one family member to call me fat and alter the way I saw myself.
I also encountered different situations from “distant” family members. Bitter people that had no home training, that’s how I see them now. I recall one experience, when I had just met a family member and the first words of their mouth was like “Wow you sure eat well”. In another instance I was asked how much I weighed before a nice greeting was ever exchanged. Yes, these situations happen to me, as a child and made me furious. I felt fat and furious. While my mom never made me feel lesser for my weight, the damage of other comments from family was done. Later on, I would discover I was not the only one in my family to be bullied for being overweight. By this time, you might be wondering “How fat was May?’ I was not even that fat.
Somewhere along the line, fierceness took over my fury. I give credit to my mom for my upbringing where slowly but steady I gained confidence. By the time I hit my teenage years, I developed a sense of boldness. Was I thin? Nope. I remained thick and I embraced it. Was I still getting direct insults about my weight from certain family? Yep. Every insult thrown my way, I hit it back with sarcasm, my newfound defense mechanism. I was once was told “You would be so much prettier if you were thin” (I say this with a mocking face), I responded “Well I can lose the fat but you remain ugly at any weight”. When meeting a so called distant family member I was told “Are all Americans this fat?”, I responded “Is it my fault you can’t afford food”. Were my responses rude? Totally. The comments that birthed the rude responses should have not been said to begin with. How was a child supposed to correct adults, well I obviously discovered the answer for me relied on sarcasm. It gave me courage to not accept insults. Slowly I got my point across and I saw these rude insults thrown at me diminish.
I am disgusted to hear any adult insult a child based on their appearance. I really have a hero complex and step in to defend anyone, even a stranger which is being bullied. It does infuriate me for I know how damaging insults can affect anyone, especially a child. I stay amazed at some improvise insults I come up with. For whatever reason I was told I was fat as a child on numerous of times, I have come to a place of peace. I can only hope the person who issued the insults found peace as well. I forgave even when my feelings were never validated. The person till this day is oblivious about the negative impact the words had in me. I still deal with some damage those insults did, for example I am aware that not all clothing is flattering on me. I don't need no one to tell me that an empire waist dress makes me look like about to give birth to triplets, or how my arms look like I am wearing swimming floating devices or how tights jeans give me a muffin top (see I still got issues). Due to those bad experiences I became who I am today. I am able to boldly defend myself and not allow anyone to take a jab at my self esteem. If you think now, you can insult me with a fat joke (rolling my eyes right now), you can’t come against this fortitude of awesomeness.
This entry does not conclude with me stating how I have transformed to a beautiful “flaca” surviving on rabbit food (It would not hurt to add more salads to my diet, I am working on that). I wish I was the fat, I thought I was back then! I am not a size 2, and I may never be. I love myself in my skin and feel beautiful no matter the number on the scale. I daily work to improve myself for me, not for anyone else. Just like you should too. If you find yourself at the end of these fat insults, I hope you have the courage to stand up for yourself. To believe you are beautiful in any form and to find your true value in character not in image. Fat suites come off. Words matter and have consequences. I didn’t remain fat and furious all my life (now just fat lol) but I did remain fierce. I learned that no one can make you feel inferior unless you give them the power to do so.
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