I am someone who believes hard work can bring you the best results. It is this belief that helped me push the extra mile to achieve what I try for. From studies to responsibilities in everything I do, I try to contribute a little extra than I can. But it’s been a while since I realized that it wasn’t enough.
Since I was a kid, i had been a tall, plus-size child. While adults called be a duckling, the kids called me the ugly duckling. While the adults called me cute, the kids called me fat. I still remember the day I became conscious about my weight. I was in my 4th grade, and i had forgotten my pencil pouch at home. I asked a child next to me if she could lend me her extra pencil. She looked at me with crushed eyebrows and said she couldn’t as she thought I would break it with my strength. As i looked at her helplessly, some boy from behind called me ” fatty bambola.” The word made me feel so embarrassed about myself. The boy kept calling me the same when ever he saw me. Though on the outside, I pretended as if it never bothered me, every time he said it, the wound it caused crept deeper and deeper. I did mention the incident to my parenst but never showed them how much it affected me.
From that day forward, I started dieting. Whenever people looked at me, I thought they looked at me because of my weight, when people laughed, I thought they were laughing at me. I was paranoid. I would eat 1 meal a day and on the days someone spoke about my weight I would just have 1 biscuit. One day, when I was in 6th grade, I went to my granny’s house. One of my far cousins had come and he looked at me and said I was the healthiest of all the kids. The others should be like me. Though it was a compliment, I felt like he just called me fat. I thought I should eat only 1 biscuit a day till I become thin and started doing the same from that day on. Whenever my granny called me for food, I would say I have already had it while she was busy in the kitchen. On the 3rd day of my 1 biscuit per day diet, I was feeling very tired and I was lying on the bed. My granny came and without saying a word sat next to me. I pretended to be asleep as I did not want her to call me for lunch. Honestly,I loved her so much that I always felt sad when I lied to her. She slowly stroked my hair and asked me why was I having just a biscuit a day. I was shocked that she noticed and I turned around. I was hungry and the part where she wasn’t scolding me and trying to understand me, overwhelmed me and I cried so much while she hugged me very calmingly. I opened up to her and told her how ugly I felt being fat. She is the first person to tell me that this is who I am and I should accept myself the way I am.
For a girl who wanted to fit in, no words from the world convinced me I am beautiful. I have not stopped dieting even now. I have tried all sort of diets, some effective but impractical, while some practical but ineffective. But I never gave up. While in college, I wanted to be skinny, super skinny, and i did lose all my weight enough to feel beautiful, but for me, it was never enough.
Time went on and I entered different other phases of life and a point where God decided to prep up my game. He gave me PCOS. Losing weight wasn’t an easy challenge anymore but giving up was not something I do. So I went into a long-term crash diet with heavyweight training. And after 5 years of struggling with PCOS, I reached an average body level. Then came the corona pandemic and the 2-year lockdown, which stopped all the work outs I could do and brought me back to where I began.
I still have not given up, I am trying and will try it till my last day. But I am tired. I am honestly tired. I wish i could just accept myself for who I am and stop this madness! I truly wonder when would I accept myself for who I am. Call me weak, but when some illiterate morons judge me for my weight, i do get hurt, though i dont show it.
Life isn’t fair, like someone once said, but I wonder who designed life to be unjust and yet taught the world to live on false hope.
Chanjals World 