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I was a writer
Little did I know
I was slowly neglecting my passion
Only because of my parents
Whom in the first place
Did not understand and know me
Whom for almost twenty years
Did not have any cool time with me
Whom I expected to be my company
But never did
And will never be
Now I am struggling with theater
I want to be an artist
But then here we go again
Back to square zero
A loser
Who can’t fight for her life
Who will always be the slave for love
Who will forever be the woman who regrets breathing
Until the day she dies
Her, screaming for what she truly desires
I guess its what it is

, #poetry #personal

Losing the “Extra Weight”



"How did you lose all that extra weight?" 

You are dumbfounded every time you are asked that question.

You always answer with the technical approach,

"I just exercise every other day and eat small meals. That’s all."

You know that isn’t even half of the story or the struggle,

because it was more than just simply losing a few extra pounds.

As a child, you were considered the “cute one”,

Because your plumpness only added to your charm. 

For the most part, you were fine with your size.

You’d pride yourself of being “Pleasantly Plump”

And you used it to your advantage some times,

because you gave out the snuggest hugs,

with the “extra plush comfort”, for anybody who needed it.

And you functioned fine, with the exception of physical fitness tests.

But as you got older, your size became a problem, 

especially with the addition of hormones.

You had to start mingling with the opposite sex, 

and suddenly, you were ashamed of yourself.

Your once “pleasantly plump” body was simply undesirable,

so you hid your shame underneath layers and layers,

of baggy shirts and odd-fitting denim clothing and sweats,

not realizing that it only added to the bulk.

At one point, you decided that a male’s attention and interest,

was the measure of a girl’s worth amongst your peers.  

Because it verifies that you are wanted, that you are beautiful,

That you are worthy of being listened to and… loved.

But when you were in their midst,  you were JUST “the cute one”,

which meant that you were “ugly, but interesting” (by definition)

Your perception of being “pleasantly plump” was erased,

and you were now labeled, in big, chunky letters, as "FAT".

To add insult to injury, your friends were all “thinner and prettier”,

in idiotic attempts to win your friends over, boys begin befriending you.

Because in order to get to them they had to charm their way through,

by talking to the group’s token “DUFF” (a.k.a designated ugly, fat friend).

It shouldn’t have hurt to be later known at least as the “funny one”,

At least some of the boys you met were honest and real around you,

But that was because they didn’t need to impress or woo you,

because you didn’t score a 10 and you didn’t fit a 2.

You believe you have outgrown shallow thoughts and immature boys,

but they remain at the back of your head, long after adolescence.

Your friends and family ought to know, but you’d rather not rant,

because you do not want the unnecessary tears and tissues.

When a member of your family fell ill due to their unhealthy practices,

you forgot about the measurements and scales, and focused on health.

You decided to make the lifestyle change for yourself when they did, 

And you began sizing down without realizing your clothes were loosening. 

You began working on a balanced formula as you sorted your lifestyle,

and when you started a routine, you steadily adjusted to it. 

It isn’t a shock to you any more that you can now fit into a size “medium”.

Although earlier on in your life, you never thought it was possible.

Some times during your quiet times, hurtful memories flood back.

Like that insensitive relative that told you that you were, “Finally pretty”

Like the loudmouth schoolmate that referred to you as, “some fat girl.”

They open up like fresh wounds, every time you remember.

Some times to pass an uphill or a bump, you loop the words in your head.

You remember their faces, their taunts, their teasing,

The feeling angers you, and it becomes your fuel.

And then when you’ve passed it, the fuel begins to run out. 

Your sudden burst of energy begins to fall, your limbs are weak, 

your muscles ache, and you suddenly feel bruised and beaten.

The anger overwhelms you and that causes you to breakdown, 

so you breathe, wipe the tears away, and pretend nothing happened.

You could never seem to understand how a few extra pounds

had made such a huge difference in peoples’ perception of you.

And you think that maybe you were better off being heavier,

so you would be able to tell that people liked you for your substance.

"What is the secret to weight loss?",

Ads, tabloids, magazines try to provide people answers.

It’s impossible to answer the question correctly,

but you catch yourself contemplating on what you would answer yourself. 

"The secret to it is hidden under layers of the usual answers: 

diet plans, gym equipment, work-out routines, trainer taunts, etc. 

When for the most part, those factors are all secondary.

If there is one thing to remember it’s that you remember your reason.

Make the change not for vanity

not to prove anything to anyone,

not to put one over someone,

not because you were told.

Do it for your overall well-being and health,

Do it to live for and with your loved ones longer,

Do it because you know it will better your life,

Otherwise, just feel good about yourself.

You don’t need to adjust to fit a size you aren’t comfortable in, 

and you shouldn’t need to impress to be happy and content.

Once you realize that your reasons have become a part of you,

that’s when you know that you’ve lost all the extra weight.

Just in time! Finally! Someone understands how I feel. I still have to confirm my reason though-