We are the curvy girls.
Reubenesque, if you will.
Society calls us “fat girls”
And they treat us like a plague.
To school nurses, we may as well be lepers
The media is more tactful,
And pretends that we aren’t here at all.

Today I went walking in the woods.
I wore a dress and a flower crown
And the wind picked up my hair
And right then I knew I was beautiful.

But then I came back home
And suddenly
I didn’t know anything at all.

“We are beautiful, in every single way.
And words can’t bring us down.”
Only sometimes they can.

It hurts
When you see your grandfather for the first time in months
And he asks if you’ve lost weight.
You haven’t.
It’s just that he remembers you as the “fat grandchild”
And his vision of you is warped.

“Sticks and stones may break our bones,
But words will never hurt us.”
Only sometimes they will.

It hurts
When you’re among friends
And you pick up a size 6’ or an 8’ at a clothing store
And they ask if you’re sure it’s big enough
Like you don’t have experience with these things
Like you’re the delusional one.

“We are beautiful, in every single way.
And words can’t bring us down”
Only sometimes they can.

It hurts
When you’re eating lunch with your very own mother
And you order something that isn’t a salad
And she shakes her head disapprovingly
And hisses that you need to be more careful
As if it’s that easy

“Sticks and stones may break our bones,
But words will never hurt us.”
Only sometimes they will.

It hurts
When you’re among friends
And in a fit of mental anguish, you call yourself fat
And it takes them
just a little too long
To refute it

When I went walking in the woods
With my dress and my flower crown and the blowing wind
I knew I was beautiful
But the world tries to make me forget

“We are beautiful, in every single way.
And words can’t bring us down”

But sometimes, that’s hard to remember