“Awww, you look like a teddy bear”. Undoubtedly this is a sweet compliment. I never felt bad about this compliment. But the more you grow, the more you see and then you realize that the compliments like these have a discrimination within.
The story is not of a victim. The story is not of good or bad. But the story is about some emotions which you can’t control. From the very childhood, my nickname was “mota” which means “fat”. I am very used to in this name and never had a complaint about. I knew that this is the name given by my friends and with love. May be somewhere I was afraid to lose that love.
Yes, I am fat and there is no point to complain about it. It is the me. But again it is that me who finds people around with compliments like “handsome”, “macho”, “cool”, etc. So the point is very clear to you now, that I wanted to become handsome and as I was not, so I am writing this. No, it is not of compliments.
It is about that when you know that for you it is always oversized dresses. The moments when, t-shirts and slim fits never fit to your body. If they don’t fit then chuck it. I am different and an those outfits don’t suit me. Yes this is the excuse I have given me and I was very happy about it.
Whatever you are and whoever you are, you stay in a society. You don’t believe or not but you want to become like someone. You look for something. It is good to be different but that doesn’t mean that you will never want to walk with the crowd. We love crowd because we mix up there.
I was never depressed about my weight. I never cared about it. I was in amidst my thoughts. But then one day I took a decision that let’s fight it. Not because I want to be someone different to someone. But I wanted a different me. I wanted to see someone else in the mirror.
I was facing some health issues. The issues were not serious but could be serious. Doctor prescribed to lose weight. I asked myself and got an answer, lets fight it back.
I started gym. The first day in gym, I was 94kG around. The first work out was jogging. I still remember that when I first walked at jogger at 4Km/hr for one minute, I was tired like hell. But the struggle continued. I was doing diet. Diet of no sugar, no fat and very less carbohydrate. No rice was a mantra.
I am foodie. Yes my food practice changed but no I am still a foodie. I still don’t calculate calorie when I eat. But I eat with a rational mind. I am more into the quality than quantity now.
I am not here to inspire someone. But I have inspired myself. The day when my trainer asked my to run at 12km/hr and I ran for two minutes. I was happy. I wanted to jump and cry when I saw my weight is 75.
Tears came, I loved myself more, I have supported myself for three months. I am proud of myself. I am proud of my friends and family who always encouraged. I still wear oversized cloths. I still don’t try to look slim. That is the real me. I have accepted myself as I am. But today I know better what I am.
We judge, I judge and will judge. But sometimes it hurts. It really hurts because nobody will ever tell you. Yes I am fat and I am cute, but that cuteness is not the me but my obesity. I am not telling anyone to stop being sweet. But just for once if you think, it can make the adorable person a bit more happy.