The Anti-Fat Revolution

This is my way of spreading the word-each of us types a simple chapter based on our feelings about the words "fat" and "ugly" and maybe share an experience, so people will know how much those words hurt. If we work together, we ''can'' make a difference, I know we can! Corny as that may sound, I still believe it to be true

Chapter 1

AndyCandy's exprience with "fat and ugly"

by: x_Lupa_x
Okay, so I was in like third grade. I was depressed already, cuz my mom had just died. It was easy to make me cry, most people did it without even trying. And I'll be the first to admit, after Mom died, I did put on a little weight, but I wasn't ''fat-''I was simply suffering from PTSD, I was under a lot of stress, and my body was showing it. But there was one guy-his name was Jarod, I think-who seemed to find a sort of cruel pleasure in tormenting me.
I walked home, alone, every day. And every day, he'd be waiting for me. Sometimes he was alone, sometimes with a group. Either way, as soon as I came into sight, he would close in like he was a starving wolf, and I was a big, juicy steak. I tried to avoid him, but he just followed me.
He was cruel-he said a whale looked then next to me, said Medusa was jealous of my hair, he wouldn't leave me alone until I ran away in tears. His favorite nicknames for me were "Walrus" and "Elephant." Sometimes, if he was with a group, he would pretend to run when he saw me, yelling, "Aah, run! She's gonna eat you!"
At several points, this made me feel so ugly-so unloved, unlovable, as though I had no meaning at all in the world except to be his scapegoat-that I questioned the point to go on. I was seven when it started, and it only ended two years later, with my attempted suicide. That ended it because after I tried to kill myself, my dad finally realized how serious this problem was, and he transferred me to a different school after that.
Even now, five years later, when all this is behind me, I can still recall with painful clarity how awful it felt when they would tell me I was fat. It pushed me right to the edge, and then it pushed me over. I received a scar from that ordeal. It's not something you can see, but it's still damaging. It's a scar in my memory, it'll never go away, so in some ways it's worse than if they had beaten me up. I'll never fully heal from what they did to me, and I'll never forgive them for it.

Recently a statistic was shared with me-did you know, roughly 54% of women would rather get hit by a truck than be fat? Now, I don't know about you, but that seems pretty drastic to me.
Think about it for a moment-if you get hit by a truck, odds are, you're gonna die. The other choice is being fat. Most women would rather ''die'' than be fat! This is why we're here, people-to make that 54% feel loved, special, beautiful.
Remember, everybody has their own unique beauty. Think before you speak, and never say something you'll regret. Even if you're forgiven, you can't ever take it back. I've seen and felt firsthand what it feels like to be called fat, to feel ugly and unloved and unlovable, like I'm a peice of shit on the lawn, something to comment negatively on, make a face at, or treat like garbage, or sometimes just ignore.
People say "I was just kidding" or "I didn't mean it", but they never think about the consequences. We're here to teach you to think. This is my goal: to spread love, beauty, and happiness, to make ''everyone,'' not just the skinny-ass model-figured people who have worldly beauty, but also the pimply ones, the scruffy ones, the chubby ones, feel beautiful inside and out, and to make sure they know they are loved, and they have value, no matter what anyone else may say.
That's my goal-what's yours?

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