Midnight Impulse

learning experiences and impulsive decisions

Losing the race

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I live in a house that has a lack of mirrors.  Scales tell you how much you weigh but they definitely don’t tell you how you look.  Today, on another unsuccessful bra-shopping trip, I looked.  And I looked.  And god, did I hate what I saw.  I get it now!  This is why I’ve never been crushed on.  This is why other girls get more attention than me.  This is why I’m going to have a harder time getting places than someone who actually took care of their weight.  In a self-image obsessed society, looks seem to be just as important as skills.  And if I keep up this weight, I’m never ending up anywhere.

Dear Reader, by now you may think me conceited, judgmental, and vain, but as bitter a pill to swallow this is, it’s the truth.  I’m not trying to undermine education and the importance of actually being good at real things, but I am saying that taking care of yourself and your weight are part of being good at things.  Nothing is good about my unhealthy weight and eating habits, and I’m sick of not getting the attention I want.  I think it’s time to let out the thin/skinny/fit (whatever is currently an “acceptable” term to use) that I deserve to be.  

I have good posture, but it’s hidden under my back fat.  I have great taste in clothes, but I’m limited to only buying what fits, not what I like.  I have the means, potential, and ambition to go places, but in today’s society, I’m losing the race.

I’m sick of shopping at Marks & Spencer.  I’m sick of going into a store and getting disappointed they don’t carry anything bigger than an L.  I’m sick of not being good at sports as others are, and I’m sick of being breathless after walking up the stairs.  I’m sick of feeling self-conscious around people, tugging at my clothes and folding my arms in hopes of hiding the fat.  I’m sick of my stretch marks and my cellulite.  I’m sick of feeling uncomfortable taking part in any conversation regarding diet and exercise.  I’m sick of looking at myself in the mirror and feeling sick.

I want to be able to wear what I want and pose for photographs however I want, without worrying how bad I’ll look in that angle.  I want to be able to change clothes in front of my friends instead of running off to the bathroom.  

From now on, there won’t be anymore double desserts.  No god-awful amounts of rice, potatoes, and bread.  No more excuses for not going to the gym or working out.  I need to stop being so afraid of failure because, fuck, I haven’t even tried yet.  Maybe I can look back on my high school graduation photos without embarrassment, go into university with a fresh start.  

I want to be the happy, fit, beautiful girl I’m constantly seeing in my daydreams.  It’s time to start running towards her rather than hoping I’ll somehow pass her by someday.  

Motivatedly yours,

Addie

 

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Author: Adelaide Martin

18 year old international student's transition into college life on a new continent.

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