In dreams, I am light.
When I step, my body glides, leaping. Im a dancer in slow motion. I am an animal running. Both of my feet leave the ground as I move with perfect fluidity in stark contrast to the gravity of waking life.
When I was a fat kid, my parents tried to bribe me to lose weight with an incentive program. Lost weight translated into video game booty, helping develop a fine sense of body image and consumerism that is essential to daily living in America.
In high school I had these fantasies about being slim. I would eat right, work out constantly and lose weight so fast it would make heads spin. Everyone would exclaim, You have lost so much weight, you look great! Howd you do it? Leukemia, Id reply. I reveled in the idea of making you as ashamed of weight as I was.
In college, I took a class on sensation and perception. It dealt with the amazing mechanics of our sensory system. I remember vividly reading about vision. Our eyes dont see nearly as much as we do. Our eyes capture a small bit of light and our brain fills in the details. I look in the mirror. My brain fills in the details and I never recognize myself.
The person staring back at me isnt the person I walk around with all day. Who is that fat man studying my face? Who is he and where am I? Am I really that wide? I dont feel that wide as I walk down the street. But when I have to scoot by your table in a restaurant, I am painfully aware of just how wide I am.
Now Im a fat man, the embodiment of the obesity crisis in America. Fat people dont earn as much in the workplace. Obesity carries the stigma of slovenliness. You wouldnt be so fat, if you just didnt eat so much. You probably smell bad, too. Fat people dont wash often and theyre always messy eaters. Other drivers, lost in thought, cut you off and are assholes. Not you. Youre a fat pig. A lard ass. A fat bitch. Weight is character, isnt it?
As I grew older I began to come to terms with who and what I am, what identity means to me. What is the measure of success? What defines the life youve led? I am surrounded by people who care about me. I have a wife who loves me. I have a steadily advancing career and the respect of my co-workers. Ask those who know me and they will tout my confidence and my successes.
But in dreams, I am light.
When I step, my body glides, leaping. Im a dancer in slow motion. I am an animal running. Both of my feet leave the ground as I move with perfect fluidity in stark contrast to the gravity of waking life.
When I was a fat kid, my parents tried to bribe me to lose weight with an incentive program. Lost weight translated into video game booty, helping develop a fine sense of body image and consumerism that is essential to daily living in America.
In high school I had these fantasies about being slim. I would eat right, work out constantly and lose weight so fast it would make heads spin. Everyone would exclaim, You have lost so much weight, you look great! Howd you do it? Leukemia, Id reply. I reveled in the idea of making you as ashamed of weight as I was.
In college, I took a class on sensation and perception. It dealt with the amazing mechanics of our sensory system. I remember vividly reading about vision. Our eyes dont see nearly as much as we do. Our eyes capture a small bit of light and our brain fills in the details. I look in the mirror. My brain fills in the details and I never recognize myself.
The person staring back at me isnt the person I walk around with all day. Who is that fat man studying my face? Who is he and where am I? Am I really that wide? I dont feel that wide as I walk down the street. But when I have to scoot by your table in a restaurant, I am painfully aware of just how wide I am.
Now Im a fat man, the embodiment of the obesity crisis in America. Fat people dont earn as much in the workplace. Obesity carries the stigma of slovenliness. You wouldnt be so fat, if you just didnt eat so much. You probably smell bad, too. Fat people dont wash often and theyre always messy eaters. Other drivers, lost in thought, cut you off and are assholes. Not you. Youre a fat pig. A lard ass. A fat bitch. Weight is character, isnt it?
As I grew older I began to come to terms with who and what I am, what identity means to me. What is the measure of success? What defines the life youve led? I am surrounded by people who care about me. I have a wife who loves me. I have a steadily advancing career and the respect of my co-workers. Ask those who know me and they will tout my confidence and my successes.
But in dreams, I am light.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
I say as long as you are not morbidly obese and therefore in danger of health problems, give yourself a break. The world is hard enough without giving power and priority to your own unfounded guilt. But that's just my two cents; spend them how you will.
Again, beautiful piece above. I'll be back to read more!