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[thediaryofemilyoko]

This is a stream of consciousness written this morning detailing my struggle with internalized fatphobia. I am being honest with myself about this in my quest for feeling body neutrality someday. This is your trigger warning.

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I want to be okay with my body.

I want my husband to be okay with my body. I know okay is a term of mediocrity. I want to be wanted more than anything in the world. I feel my body is difficult to love. My face no longer has its sharp features from my youth and I feel ashamed. I feel I am always taking up too much space. I read comments on the internet from men who say looking at a body like mine makes them nauseous. I am stuck in this body and stuck on the receiving end of cruelty for it, including the cruelty of my own brain. The fact that my body is a lot of people’s worst nightmare for themselves is disheartening. My skinny friends do not understand and maybe that is good that they cannot relate to this pain. It hurts me to hear that they are worried about gaining weight. I feel there is no good way for me to eat but I know not eating will also do harm. I hate ascribing morality to food and I hate that I am viewed as a less moral person because of my body. My bosses make comments about my body and the food I eat often. My husband does not seem to like my body. I am not a person that is lusted after and I wish I didn’t care. I just looked down and noticed those white stripes on my belly that I hadn’t seen before, which tell me I must have gained more weight somehow even though I’m eating less. I am eating less and it doesn’t matter. I feel like I don’t matter. I wonder if people don’t like to be seen with me. I wonder if my husband doesn’t want to be seen with me. I used to feel awkward visiting him at work because I thought I might embarrass him. I have to live in this body as it is now and I feel like I will never escape this pain. It hurts knowing my mom would go into debt to get that surgery done on me because how I look matters more to her than how I feel. I want to feel sexy but I can’t anymore. I just want my husband to want me. I don’t care about compliments from strange men on the internet. I want to feel okay existing in public. I hate being perceived and yet it’s all I want. I want to be seen in a good way. I want someone to be happy to see me. I want to be more than okay, I want to be someone’s idea of beautiful. I am not but I want to be, and ideally I want to be my husbands idea of beautiful. I am so tired. I am rejected often and it is eating away at me. I can’t eat anything without the awareness that my body will turn it into more fat and thus more judgment. No one has a crush on me. No one wants to see me naked. No one is wanting to see me clothed. I am unwelcome. I know that there is no future where I am thin again. I hate that I have these thoughts. I want to not care about anyone or anything. I know I am intellectualizing my feelings too much. I don’t know why I’m not allowed to love myself as I am. I read the comments too much. I am afraid that even my guy friends view me in a negative way because of my body and face. I don’t know why I am still so desperate for male attention. I know I am desperate for touch. Who would want to touch this body? Why is it such a bad thing? Surely this body is soft and squishy and that should be something nice to touch but I guess it’s not nice to look at. I want to be desired even if I can’t act on desire. I want to be wanted. I want someone to get hot thinking of me. I want way too much. Desire is the root of all suffering. All of this plagues me and then my personality seals my fate. Even the fetishizer men would probably not want me to open my mouth to say words.

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[thediaryofemilyoko]

I tend to think my friends see spending time with me akin to driving someone to the airport - they dread being asked to but they feel obligated to do so.

[thediaryofemilyoko]

I wonder if our differences bother him. I’ve found so often in life that the things that make me truly me are often grating to people on the opposite end - that is to say I am drawn to the quiet ones whilst I am loud. I am drawn to the introverted ones who need breaks from human interaction whereas all I want is to be in the presence of another almost always. I’m an artist drawn to the practical and logical who have no “creative” drive. I don’t know why I am this way but I worry that these differences are not so appreciated on their end as they are mine.

[thediaryofemilyoko]

Darker Thoughts Looming

I am thinking about beauty again. My mother used to throw this backhanded compliment at me, telling me I had “such a beautiful face...if only...” She doesn’t even say that phrase anymore. No longer even a beautiful face, it seems. Yes, if only I had a nice sharp pair of scissors. I could cut the fat from under my jaw, and hell, why not cut the vocal chords while I’m at it? After all, I’ve been told if I could just shut up, I’d be more attractive. If I could cut it all off. If I could “just stop eating.” Her words, mind you. If I could just be everything that I am not, maybe then I would be deserving of desire and deserving of love.

As it stands, I am unsure of it all.

I am writing this now, all too aware that these thoughts are incredibly damaging. Self awareness doesn’t absolve anyone of anything and it has not served me well - it is not enough to be aware, one must have the strength to fight these thoughts and I am too weak right now. I can’t even let them wash over me - they are drowning me. I just wanted to be wanted more than anything in the world. I don’t know what that feels like. I am always the one doing the wanting. What’s the use? I wonder what it feels like. 

I don’t know with any certainty how others feel about me in a given moment. Not my husband, certainly not my best friend, no one. I can’t tell. I could say I just need someone to speak the words aloud to me - tell me I matter, tell me they love me, tell me I’m beautiful - but I know deep down I could never believe them even if they did. The damage is too severe. I am aware of it but I am powerless.