That Ugly Fat Bitch

Hello there. I'm that ugly fat bitch.

You know the one.

The one who is so huge you don't understand how it is that she still walks . . . not that she walks well.
The one who dresses in unflattering clothes . . . not that she could find clothes to flatter her.
The one who is in no way desirable. In fact, she makes you revolted by the look of her.

Yes, that is me.

And you know what?

This is the fun thing about it all. This is the part you will find crazy and possibly not even comprehend. This is the part that will go contrary to all the stereotypes, goes contrary to all the lonely fat girls standing at the edges of dances weeping big sad, salty tears because no one will ever love them.

The truth is, I'm happy you think I'm the ugly fat bitch.  I am not only happy, I'm weirdly overjoyed by it. It's like there is some kind of chemical that releases a spite-drug inside my system whenever men look at me with disgust.  It makes me happy that you don't want me, would ever want me, don't even connect me with your pleasure centers.

Why is this?

Well, I'm sure a lot of it has to do with the fact that I was raped as a child.

That's only part of it though.  The biggest part has to do with the fact that people act like they can own the  beauty of others. People act like they are owed beauty, owed their very own beautiful woman to love and show off to everyone else.  People act like it is a woman's duty to be beautiful, her one and most important sole purpose in this world to be an object of desire and inspiration.

And . . . I'm not doing that. I'm walking around as a big fat disgusting ugly bitch. Well, okay, waddling around. But you get the idea.

This doesn't mean I'm changing my mind about losing weight. I still plan on doing so, but keep in mind, I'm doing it to not be in pain.  Anything else is beside the point.