"You can't take a picture of this. It's already gone."

Friday, February 1, 2013

Dear Anonymous


Two days ago, this is what happened.
~*~*~*~
Anonymous person on my tumblr: How could you let yourself go so much? Are you even trying to loose your baby weight?
My Answer: Wow. How brave of you to ask me that. Did it make you feel better? On another note, though, I’d probably be glad to answer your questions if you’d tell me who you are. Besides an asshole, of course.
~*~*~*~**~*~
This is what I wrote, afterwards:
Just a thought for the day after receiving my first piece of anonymous hate here on tumblr.
I am so sorry for everyone who has to deal with this bullshit. It does indeed hurt when random jackasses take the time and energy to write hurtful things. And on top of it, they are cowardly and weak for not telling you their names.
I don’t send things on anonymous. I believe in being accountable for the words you speak and write. It is why I am really careful with what I write and say to people. Have I made mistakes and fucked up badly? Of course I have. But I take responsibility and apologize.
So come off anon and say it to my face. Inasmuch as tumblr is, in any case. Maybe we can actually have a real-life conversation!
As a side note, being fat is not a bad thing. I’m not a bad person. Being fat does not equal bad. Being fat does not mean unhealthy either.
So, these are my thoughts.
~*~*~*~*~~*

Those were my thoughts at that point. It was two days ago.

Today, I am angry. Who are you, anonymous person, to question who I am and what I look like? Let myself go? Am I "even trying"? Here's the thing. I try every day. I try so fucking hard every day to get up out of bed and take care of my kids and feed everyone and on top of that fight huge amounts of depression and heartache. I have to schedule doctors appointments, make meals, plan outings, wash clothes, clean up messes and try not to swear like a sailor. 

I struggle, like many women, with my body image, but I'm not eighteen anymore. That body wasn't particularly well cared for either, I might add. I fucked up my body with a twin pregnancy and lack of exercise and a general lack of money and disregard for what I put in my body as well as a penchant for self loathing that manifests itself in myriad physical ways. I'm trying to change my lifestyle, a little at a time, but it is hard when you are trying to keep everyone's head above water. I am still working on loving myself. Some days I hate how I look. Most days I just tolerate it, because holy crap, I have so much else to worry about these days. Me being fat is truth. There is more fat on this body than there was 3 years ago. Some of that is my fault. Some of it isn't. I could work harder and diet more and lose all this weight. Some days I go for it. Some days I don't or can't. 

 I would assume that by saying this to me, you are trying to hurt me, and you would be correct. My love for myself isn't yet so great that it is not affected by what other people say to me. So congratulations, you have succeeded in what you wanted, which is to make me upset. Honestly, though, with me, it doesn't take much, so the reality is that you set that bar pretty low.

Some people are naturally gifted with the ability to juggle children. I'm not. It is a skill and a hard one to maintain and upkeep. Some days I enjoy it, others are I do not. I love my kids. They challenge me, excite me, make me love harder than I've ever loved. But I take my responsibilities to them seriously, which means some days all I can do is sleep at the end. 

But I am the same person I was. I have the same eyes. I love the same things. Fat or not, I am a decent person and at the end of the day, I am not making anonymous, hate-filled comments on the internet. I am myself. I am evolving and changing and gaining and losing and rising and falling. I am struggling and succeeding and failing. I am loving myself and hating myself and bettering myself even as I feel parts of me waste away. 

And anonymous, since I have a sneaking suspicion I may have known you in another life, I am sorry if and when I hurt you. There were and are deeply ugly parts of my life that even if I am open about, I am not proud of. I am sorry if I hurt you. Whoever you may be.  

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