Size 19
A poem about being plus-size
I don’t mean to offend anyone with this poem. That girl in my profile picture? That’s not me. Not the current me, anyway.
After struggling with binge eating disorder and going through a disaster of a treatment program where the therapists didn’t understand my needs, I gained 100 pounds in 2022.
I struggled with my weight and body image in junior high and high school, too, though luckily my parents never treated me as “less than” because of it. The kids at school? Now they were another story.
In my poem I use the word “fat.” A disgusting and offensive word if there ever was one. But it was a word people called me in school, and I believed the word described me — as I believe it describes me now.
Size 19
The fat girl knelt
in the cosmetics aisle,
weeping. Her mother’s words
still rang in her ears:
“You embarrass me.
This is the last time
I’m taking you shopping.”
The girl wanted a dress
or a cardigan, shoes or
a handbag, for an occasion
that didn’t exist.
She wanted to look
in the mirror and see
herself as beautiful.
The girl wanted to forget
that boys called her ugly,
that she was always the last
person picked for teams.
She wanted to forget
that her mother had said “no”
when she had asked if they could
just stay in the store together
a little longer. She wanted to dream
of happiness without doubt.
