I am, by nature, a contrarian. Some would say I’m oppositional and/or defiant. Many would (and have) called me an a-hole. They’re probably right – at least contextually.
I don’t mean to be rude – not most of the time, anyway. I just don’t accept things at face value. If you want me to accept something, you need to prove it to me. Show me some evidence. (Maybe that’s why I became a lawyer…)
There’s a point to this little insight into my personality. I’ve pondered, cogitated, and agonized over the years about why I’m fat. “It’s because I was abused.” “I’m hiding from life.” “I don’t want to be in my body.” “I’m too damaged to care about myself.” You name it, I’ve thought it. And bought it. And been overwrought by it.
And you know what? I’ve come to the conclusion that it doesn’t matter why. It just is. I don’t need or want to re-traumatize myself. I don’t need or want to psychoanalyze myself. I don’t need or want to make excuses for myself. I just am. Period.
If I don’t want to be around me because I’m fat, shame on me. Because I don’t want to care any more. I don’t need to care any more. It’s just a part of me. Not all of me. One aspect.
If you don’t want to be around me because I’m fat, so be it. It’s your loss. I’m really a kick to be around most of the time. (Maybe not in those oppositional, a-hole moments, but hey – who’s perfect?)
Welcome to my world.