Apr 2022
You talk about your own insecurities so much I mistook them for my own
Started finding fault in the way the skin on my arms sagged, too
And the way my stomach stuck out under my high-waisted jeans that I only wear because you taught me that low-waisted jeans weren’t for ‘girls like me’
Or was it ‘women like you’?
I don’t quite remember now.
I lost a bunch of weight but I still won’t wear leggings out in public
Because you told me ‘no fat girl should ever wear leggings’
And even though I’m nearly 60lbs lighter
I’m sure I still bear a resemblance to those girls you made fun of from your car for being too fat for a piece of clothing
I remember you printed off your before and after weight loss picture one year
You were stood in front of a Christmas tree in the second photo
As if weight loss was the present you were most grateful for
So I take a lot of progress photos myself nowadays
In fact, I honour the family name even more by making sure I, too lose the weight by only eating a salad a day
How good of you to teach me how to be ‘healthy’
You make a point of mentioning just how good I look every time I finally bite the bullet and visit you
Which I wouldn’t be offended by if you didn’t add ‘compared to last year’ to the end of that compliment
You feel the need to insult yourself after congratulating me on how well I’ve done
You say you’ve just been SO lazy lately
Is it laziness?
Or are you finally eating three meals a day without punishing yourself?
Why would I ever want to recover when my own mother equates recovery to idleness?
I didn’t realise how true the phrase ‘like mother like daughter’ was until I adopted the same fear foods as you
When I only ate till I was full when I was alone
And when I watched ‘my 600lb life’ every time I craved crisps
You taught me so much, mum
Not trivial things like how to nourish my body but the truly revolutionary stuff
Like how much abuse my body can endure without breaking down entirely
How your happiness and your health don’t matter all that much in comparison to how much space you take up
And how you can never, ever let people see a double chin or the fat on your arms in photos
God forbid you show any signs of enjoying food
Most importantly, you taught me that regardless of my grades
How hard I work to keep two jobs,
And the effort it takes to get out of bed some days,
The only thing that matters,
The ONLY thing that’s worth anything in this life of mine
Is the number on the scale I climb onto every morning
And I guess you were a good teacher
Because that will stay with me forever.
Started finding fault in the way the skin on my arms sagged, too
And the way my stomach stuck out under my high-waisted jeans that I only wear because you taught me that low-waisted jeans weren’t for ‘girls like me’
Or was it ‘women like you’?
I don’t quite remember now.
I lost a bunch of weight but I still won’t wear leggings out in public
Because you told me ‘no fat girl should ever wear leggings’
And even though I’m nearly 60lbs lighter
I’m sure I still bear a resemblance to those girls you made fun of from your car for being too fat for a piece of clothing
I remember you printed off your before and after weight loss picture one year
You were stood in front of a Christmas tree in the second photo
As if weight loss was the present you were most grateful for
So I take a lot of progress photos myself nowadays
In fact, I honour the family name even more by making sure I, too lose the weight by only eating a salad a day
How good of you to teach me how to be ‘healthy’
You make a point of mentioning just how good I look every time I finally bite the bullet and visit you
Which I wouldn’t be offended by if you didn’t add ‘compared to last year’ to the end of that compliment
You feel the need to insult yourself after congratulating me on how well I’ve done
You say you’ve just been SO lazy lately
Is it laziness?
Or are you finally eating three meals a day without punishing yourself?
Why would I ever want to recover when my own mother equates recovery to idleness?
I didn’t realise how true the phrase ‘like mother like daughter’ was until I adopted the same fear foods as you
When I only ate till I was full when I was alone
And when I watched ‘my 600lb life’ every time I craved crisps
You taught me so much, mum
Not trivial things like how to nourish my body but the truly revolutionary stuff
Like how much abuse my body can endure without breaking down entirely
How your happiness and your health don’t matter all that much in comparison to how much space you take up
And how you can never, ever let people see a double chin or the fat on your arms in photos
God forbid you show any signs of enjoying food
Most importantly, you taught me that regardless of my grades
How hard I work to keep two jobs,
And the effort it takes to get out of bed some days,
The only thing that matters,
The ONLY thing that’s worth anything in this life of mine
Is the number on the scale I climb onto every morning
And I guess you were a good teacher
Because that will stay with me forever.
