Just A Likkle Fattie

​For the first two weeks of winter break I’ve been doing some soul searching and a lot of sleeping and I’ve realized a couple things. I am genuinely happier, even though I spent the holidays away from family, I can make a decent ham, my sorrel is bomb as hell, I have a gummy bears addiction and that I’m going through soca fete and live basketball withdrawals. Another important thing that I’ve realized that I have to be honest with myself about my past in order to properly love myself as a grow older (I’m turning 20 and I feel like I’m 80 is this a crisis?).
 
This post, I’m going to be honest with myself and with you, the reader, that I am still confused and somewhat annoyed about the body shaming that I went through in my adolescent life. Growing up in the Caribbean, no matter what your shape was, you would go through some scrutiny for being too fat or being too skinny. However, I can’t speak for the skinny folks because the last time I was “skinny” was in kindergarten, I think. I’m not sure when my growth spurt happened, but all a sudden I was one of the tallest girls in my class and I had to wear my uniform skirt right under my chest for it to button and not have a weird pudge hang over. This time is where all of insecurities started to develop. The children in school would state that you were fat and family would talk about how was putting on weight. I fully do not remember how I handled it, but I knew it led to years of confusion when it came to my body. 
 
 
In secondary school, again I felt fat. Like, super fat. I couldn’t wear certain things because I felt my thighs jiggled too much, my stomach popped out too much, my breast hung to much. It was a time that I did not accept my body at all and I wanted to find every activity or some type of diet to try and be slim. This was not good at all. My athletic ability was extremely limited to softball and running the bases honestly gave me some serious breathing issues, and I refused to start back dancing because I knew I would feel uncomfortable in the dance environment then. Dieting was a fail and it’s honestly really stupid as well. The next option was to go to the gym. So, in forth form I started the gym and there were results, however, my body was exhausted from the intense school work and extracurricular activities and my pressure dropped tremendously, making me extremely weak and sick. Also, my thighs were getting bigger and it frustrated me.
 
Now, as a college student, when old pictures from high school (lordt) pops up as Facebook memories, I watch them with major confusion. I am currently way bigger now but, yet I was “fat”. It made me think on what really is an acceptable weight for society and even for my family in general? Are we really condition that much in the region that a little stomach means that you are automictically fat and [inserts drasticness] is a life sentence to all “fat” diseases? 
 
The conversation on how we have to deal with fatphobia within our societies is something extremely complex and even political. It is a topic that I will discuss later, however I don’t think I’m ready yet to deal with that baggage. What can be done is to not greet people with their weight. I would really appreciate to not hear the “but you geh fat man” as soon as I touch down on Princess Juliana International Airport. Yes, I know I gained weight, I’ve been eating, which one should be happy I’m doing since there was a period where I would eat once a day or nothing at all. So, all of this weight is happy weight and I’m finally accepting my body the way it is, being nice and round like a dumpling. I might complain about struggling to fit in jeans or serious back pain because of the heaviness of my breast, but I have to accept that’s just how my body is designed, and I have to love it and care for it because it is mine.