My Mom Called Me Fat, Nicely

Unsightly Image WarningWhen I was home a couple of weeks ago, I got dressed and met my parents in the kitchen as I was on my way out. I asked my parents how I looked, hoping for a little ego boost as I ventured out, alone, into the throws of the city. My mom promptly, without malice or remorse, said, “You’ve got a belly, eh?”

She had called me fat.

Every time that I go home, other than this one, I get the same comment from my parents: “Are you eating enough? You look like you’re losing weight.” This time was different. Obviously.

I was running late so I didn’t have time to defend my heft, nor did I have the energy. After I wiggled myself into the car, I felt, for the first time, my stomach fall out over my belt. I made sure to stretch the seatbelt out as far as my arm would reach, as I wrapped it securely, and snuggly, around my chest and waist.

During the 30 minute drive to my destination, I jiggled and jostled each time I went over even the slightest bump in the road. My stomach growled fiercely at me when I stopped to pick up some batteries but overlooked the chocolate bars. I had to brace myself against the door of the car as I pushed myself out of the car.

Cut to last week. I was walking by the gym that I registered with six months ago. It was open so I walked in. I booked myself a “Welcome Experience”, which was to get me familiar with the gym and give me some ideas on how I might be able to meet my fitness goals.

I walked out tonight after having paid for six personal training sessions. I start on Wednesday, and it runs twice a week for three weeks.

Here are pictures of my abdominal girth. I apologise if anyone finds these images unsightly.

This is what my belly looks like from the side. It protrudes.
This is what my belly looks like from the side. It protrudes.
This is what my belly looks like from the front. It protrudes.
This is what my belly looks like from the front. It protrudes.

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