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My Fat Train (of Thought)

3/7/2019

 
Part 1
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         I have been wondering how to start this. I’ve written it out, rewritten it, erased, taken a cry break, wrote some more and now I am here. My name is Antigoni and I am fat. I am a fat woman. I am a fat and beautiful woman. It has taken me a lot to get to that point, you know, the point where I truly believe that. I am not going to lie though, it is hard sometimes to keep that up. We all have low moments and I want to share that with you today.
           I went to they gym the other day. My summer goal is not to get a bikini body or any other trash thoughts like that. I went to the gym because I used to play soccer, and I used to be good and fast. I haven’t played since I was 17 and I am craving it. The game is calling me back.
           Now, I went with my lovely cousin who is super fit and really cool (you should check out her blog here by the way – yes, it’s a shameless plug). We were having an amazing time. I interviewed for a new job, which I got. We went to the gym had a sick training session and we were passing by her place before going to get some coffee and bagels. It was a perfect day before my cousin was to set off on her new adventure.
            Then I saw my grandmother. Now, let me just say, I love her and that won’t change – but I would be lying if I didn’t say this story hurt me, more than she’ll ever know. She was so happy to see us together. Heck, the fact we were stopping by her place made her day, and I know that just from the way she hugged me. It was so tight – like it was the last time she’d get to hug me. My grandmother always did that. She made me feel like every moment was special and finite because...well it was. She then asked us what we had planned for today. I told her that I had a job interview this morning, and that my cousin and I had gone to the gym and now we were going to run some errands and get a coffee. My grandmother then places her hand around my waist, happy tears forming in her eyes and says: “Oh, that’s so wonderful! Maybe then you’ll find a husband and get married before I die.” My heart sunk. One of my favorite people in the world had broken me in a few words. She had completely and utterly ruined my day. I wanted to leave, go home, eat some ice cream in bed and shut myself off from the world. Never show my fat face in public again.
          If you aren’t fat, you may not understand how this may feel. You may even be shrugging it off – she’s an old school lady she just wants you to be happy and married. Right? She does, but that isn’t the point and it isn’t just her. I am constantly being hurt because I am fat. I am seen as less attractive. I have been even told by someone I was sleeping with that I was too fat to seriously date. This doesn’t just happen to me and I fucking hate it. I hate it so much because although I love myself, sometimes I wonder if she’s right – will I remain single because of my body? Is marriage, a kid or two and a family dog too much to expect for a fat woman? I don’t think so, but then again, I’ve been wrong before. 

Part 2 >> 
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