From my mouth to your web searching to Beckett Couvillion’s ears:
In all honesty,
i have a big ass..the cheeks don’t quite fit anyone’s hands haha. I don’t care what anyone says, real women have curves, I like a girl with a little meat on her bones and just give her a black girl’s mask…she just might pass.
Fat bottom girls…
You make the rockin’
world go ’round
It is all a bunch of bullshit. Ever since I was young enough to remember, Mother Theresa made certain to remind me to two certainties in life; you are adopted and not really my blood and you have a big ass with a bone structure to match it!
Indeed for Big Girls such as myself, a saying like, ‘The world is definitely a better place when you’re in it.’ Is nothing but about bunch of Dr.Phil psychology for TV shut-ins. Bullshit made up to make fat people feel better about themselves.
I’m not that great of a person…Is my daily mantra.
Kate used to take pictures of me naked all the time. Not sure why I let her…Usually they were close-ups! Well, I didn’t really like them. One made me look fat on top of fat with one sagging boob. Ha-ha!
So, society, Mother Theresa and Father Floyd, let it go.
These are the facts:
I put out for men and women alike because I really do not like myself. I know I am not alone. I’ve seen the dimples on my thighs, the extra skin hanging from my arms as I raise them in protest over judgments. My belly ring is well hidden by Easter dinner and snacks that fill the emptiness within me. I often dress with a smile and a promise of, yes, I am a heterosexual but don’t know how to belong to that society.
I am not my cousin Marcie living out her life on the Cape or some third world country, making everyone’s life better just by being in it. I am the fat girl who remains so. It feeds my hatred. My hatred feeds my need to escape life. My life is hidden in ideas of what my mother thinks I should be.
