When you say you're fat

When you say you’re fat

I hear my mother, your grandmother, whispering,

“look at that woman; at least I’m not that fat.”

When you say you’re fat

I flashback to 2000,

before you were born or even thought of, and

I hear my sister, your mother, bragging

“I don’t eat much. I don’t need to. I don’t ever get very hungry.”

When did nourishment become the abusive man in the American Girl’s dream?

I told your uncle recently that I am hungry.

He said, “nice to meet you Hungry. I am Jason.”

I rolled my eyes and tried to think of a more accurate way to describe my

want for food.

A search on thesaurus.com yields a shaming list of synonyms and leaves me yearning for the right words.

Top results:

eager

greedy

keen

ravenous

starved

No. None of these would do. I just want

a little bit of food.

Some more results in alphabetical order:

athirst

avid

could eat a horse

covetous

craving

empty

famished

finishing

flying light

got the munchies

hankering

hoggish

hollowed

hungered

piggish

unfilled

unsatisfied

voracious

yearning

This list of hyperbole pisses me off. It’s all wrong. I’m not greedy nor piggish!

And I know that many people really are famished.

I’m not.

I

just want

a little bit of food.

I flash back to my childhood and hear Winnie the Pooh describe his want for food as a rumbly in his tumbly.

And I don’t know if I’m remembering it right, but I appreciate how that bear never let on 

if he felt any shame for his desires.

When you say you’re fat then you grab that little bit of belly and you briefly glance my way to see how I’ll react and you giggle innocently yet brokenly, I feel guilty and broken

because I have no idea what to say.

But I have to try.

I have to find something to say.

So I swallow (and almost gag but don’t)

I swallow hard

And say to you that

what we say to ourselves matters.

I breathe deep

And swallow hard again

I push back the tears that well up

whenever I take a close look at me in the mirror

and I focus on me

and I smile and whisper,

“look at that woman; she has her father’s nose and her mother’s belly fat and I love her.”

The simple affirmation keeps me smiling without meaning to.

My simple smile makes you smile

and I go on,

“I love her smile

and the way smiling over time has made these lines

like hugs around her mouth.

I like the way her knees look

behind her shredded jeans,” I shrug.

I still don’t feel like I know how to say what I mean,

But right now,

I am hungry.

and I pray that

when you say you’re fat

you smile and add

“like my auntie.”

and I pray that

when you are hungry

you are not confused

by the hyperbole

which the word suggests

Reviews

[jacob erin-cilberto]

this is pretty powerful, people have their ideas of what we should look like...and there is often a standard we can't live up to...we are humans, we need nourishment...
this reminds me of Karen Carpenter....died so young of bulimia...starving herself constantly to look good on stage when she sang...
i love the line.."hugs around her mouth."

j.

[genocide]

meaning what you look like really makes you feel.and so many young ladies starve themselves to look what they think is attractive.you should just be yourself and f**k what anyone else thinks

[Mr. D]

The problem with most people is that they care what others think of them. If you don't care what others think of you, you do yourself a strong service. Caring what people think makes you a slave to them mentally, emotionally, and in the case of this poem, physically. Not caring what others think is the first step in the golden road to the rest of your life.

[Crowley]

this is a whirlwind of honest feeling. the Winnie the Pooh analogy is so spot on. Wish we could feel like that silly old bear. I hate the phrases "looks like marriage agrees with ya" or someone who is in the same boat I am telling me that looks like I am gaining weight, because I know that they know how much those kind of words hurt. I think that I am hungry is enough. Nothing else need be said, but people will judge, regardless of their own personal demons. Great piece of writing!

[sL]

Thank you, Crowley, for taking the time to connect with my poem.