Video dating fat kid
In the mirror, my mother looks me right in the eyes, her other hand pinning my shirt up to expose my midriff. I tried to play in the yard, but it didn’t make up for the lack of bike rides.“If you weren't getting so fat, I wouldn't have to buy you new clothes,” she says. Or the Chef Boyardee for dinner most nights, or the pasta and butter with a side of bread on the others.Ma had been bigger too, when she was younger, and she wanted so badly to save me from the same fate.It didn’t help that now we were living next to her parents in rural Massachusetts, in a town she'd promised herself she would escape, a town she had successfully escaped up until she hadn’t.It means fat is bad and getting skinnier is good, no matter how I actually feel about myself.We learn so many lessons in high school, most of them terrible.
The same way I don't cry under the fluorescent lights at Stuart’s, surrounded by clothes that don’t fit and we can’t afford.
Me always with my shirt firmly on, keeping covered, trying to wash the bloodstains out the next day. His favorite phrase was “Lighten up, man.”Despite the triumphs of the previous summer, plus everyone at school weirdly telling me how “nice” I looked when we returned in the fall, it isn’t until this moment — as an actual character in that '90s teen movie, albeit one getting yelled at by a jock — that I realize I’ve lost weight. Hunter’s words ring in my ears, a confusing mix of pride and shame taking hold.
Tracy scribbles on her order pad and hands me her address. It's also when I realize that my weight and how I perceive myself aren’t at all related. “Not so fat” means I still am fat, that I used to be more so.
At the beginning of the summer, the weight seemed to fall off me.
But right up until that moment I'd been all the terrible euphemisms that were so much worse than simply being called fat: "husky," “chunky,” “portly,” "big-boned," “plump.” Words ingrained in my fabric.