Being called fat sucks, but when it comes out of the mouth of the people that you love, it hurts 10 times worse. For me, that happens to be my family. The ones that are supposed to boost you up and help you in times of discomfort and sadness. Yet, they are those who case this miserable build up.

It’s terrible growing up with a family that constantly reminds you how fat you’ve gotten. They joke about it and expect you to laugh with them. Which you do because you don’t want them to know that it hurts when they say it. But it’s hurtful because you are always taught that bullies are in school and not in your home. I’ve never been bullied or called out on it in school, not from my peers nor from my friends. I was taught that if someone is bothering me, I have to go to an adult. In this situation, those adults happen to be the people that I love the most. They bully me constantly especially in a family gathering. It’s as if they all agreed to gang up on me. I hate that they do this because they are the ones who overfed me when I was younger, making me chubby all my childhood and then expect me not to overeat as a teen. 

It’s not like I haven’t tried losing weight, because I have. I just haven’t tried hard enough. I do intend to lose it at some point but instead of getting that revenge body to get back at them right now, I just eat a cookie in front of them to show them that their words don’t hurt me. But they do. It hurts a lot that I find comfort in eating food. I obviously know I’m not as healthy as I should be but it still doesn’t give my family the right to poke fun at me. 

I’m the chubbiest of my family which really irritates me because my mom and sister constantly share clothes back and forth. Meanwhile, I just wear the same clothes I have in my closet. I was never skinny or healthy, always had fat here and there. But it didn’t’ really bother me until I got older. When your’e chubby as a kid, they think it’s cute but as you get older, people can be so mean about it. 

The other day I went to buy a dress for my mom’s 50th birthday because she wanted everyone to wear the color red. I had no red dresses in my closet so I went to Macy’s looking for one. I bought every single one that I could find in the store. I go home to show it to my mom, excited to see which one she would like me to wear, and she takes one out and says this can fit her friend Janet. Janet is bigger than I am, about triple my weight yet my mom thinks me and Janet will fit in the same dress. I took all the dresses and went to me room, avoiding her the rest of the day. Why would she say that? There is no way my size would fit the other girl because I’m smaller than she is. My mom isn’t the only one pointing it out. 

My uncle who is also very big calls me “gordita’ which translates to “fatty,” every time he sees me. He has been calling me that since I was little. It makes me extra mad because he is so much bigger than I am and the hypocrisy that comes out of his mouth angers me. When I call him out for it, I’m told that I’m too young and that he is too old which makes it okay for him to be fat but not me.  I’ve asked my mom to tell him to stop because I’m no longer a child and don’t need to be called nicknames especially ones like that. His remarks have slowly faded away but it still annoys me that he used to constantly say it. 

Look, I’m sure that they mean no harm by calling me out on the way I look, but why must they do it? It gets annoying at a certain time and it’s not necessary because I know what I have and don’t need anyone to tell me so. But I must admit that they are right, I do need to lose the weight. I just don’t need them to tell me so. Ugh, I guess it’s time to get on that treadmill.

Fat isn’t a bad word. When I say I’m fat it’s because I am. I know it and you don’t have to say “oh no, you’re not” because I already know I am. Being fat doesn’t represent who I am, it’s what I have. I have fat, plain and simple. Just like I created it, I can eliminate it.