8/24/2010

Being fat and having a gorgeous best friend is hell. You love her, but hate the fact that she is tall, dark-haired, green-eyed and thin.  Well, maybe you just hate the fact that she’s thin. And now married and you are not. Not even close. 

What this pretty best friend doesn’t get is the fact that you hate yourself for not being thin and that you are stuck within its cycle of bingeing. The “if you hate being fat, why don’t you do something about it” thing is not as easy as it seems. I’m a fucking addict. I’ve  been doing it since I was 8 years-old to cope with the fact the my mother made me believe I was crazy and worthless  and that my family didn’t accept me because I was black.

I numb myself out with vast amounts of food and she does it with alcohol.  What is interesting is the power she has with this beauty. Men have bought her drinks and flown her half way around the world.  When we first became friends I noticed that all of her friends were just as beautiful as she is and that I was a “separate” friend. I hung out with them from time to time but I wasn’t a part of the group.  I just wanted to be one of the girls.  I felt I was missing out on being an early twenty something who went to clubs and picked up men.  I mean what was the point? Men ignore me at clubs anyway. I actually became obviously jealous of her once and I remember her anger. Her telling me she had never been madder at a friend than she was at me at that moment.  I was horrified, but mostly worried that she would go and tell her other friends that I was acting jealous and they would have a laugh. I was embarrassed enough about not being like them.

They funny thing is that we’ve grown distant since she dumped her boyfriend for the man she is now married to. I realized she gets away with a lot of shit because of the way she looks and while this is completely unfair it’s how our society operates. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a cool girl. She is very aware of the fact that men just want her for how she looks and could care less about her personality. When they become obvious about this she starts to call them “guy”. It’s pretty damn funny actually. I have a pretty face but I want a pretty body. I want to know what it feels like. To be one of those girls that I never feel I can be when I’m fat.

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This entry was posted in American Culture, Body Image, Fat Girl, Friendship, Self-esteem, Standards of Beauty. Bookmark the permalink.

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