I feel ridiculously, totally and completely STUPID.
Because for a second, I thought that prom would be like it is in the movies. That I would look gorgeous, and I’d feel pretty for once, and boys would actually look at me.
I realized today that I’m living in some kind of stupid fantasy world. The real world doesn’t look like that. Because every person there will be all dressed up. I won’t be anything special. I’m NOT anything special.
I’m 5’ 10 1/2”, 237.8 pounds. My BMI is 33.6. That’s firmly in the obese category. For those who don’t know, Obese is another synonym for terms like “lard-bucket” and “fatass.” There’s overweight—you know, lose a few pounds to look better in that bikini. And then there’s me. Not overweight, but obese. HIDEOUS. FAT. HUGE. Of whale-like proportions.
There are some people who can be heavy, but also beautiful, like the girl that plays Mercedes on Glee.
I am not one of them. My face is chubby, I have 1 and a half chins, my nose is fat and greasy, my hair is frizzy, my skin is pale. My boobs are kind of big…I always thought that might help tip the balance in my favor. But even my best friend gave me a 5 out of 10 on the looks scale. And I’m guessing they were five pity points.
And today, while helping with a prom dress drive…
Well, there was this little girl, the daughter of the organizer. And she kept putting everyone in all these prom dresses, like living barbie dolls. I only tried on one, and that was way too big for me. She was more interested in trying pretty ones on. And I looked—-there were maybe two dresses in my size. And they weren’t pretty.
And that’s when I realized that prom won’t change a thing. Put lipstick on a pig, and it’s still a pig. Put a dress and lipstick on a human pig(me) and that doesn’t change a thing. And then I realized that this is ALL MY FAULT. There might be genes involved, but for the most part it’s the fact that I can’t freakin’ KEEP FOOD OUT OF MY MOUTH. It’s my fault that I’m hideous. I can’t blame anyone except myself.
And then I went home and ate two pieces of cold pizza. God, I hate myself.
Who would ever believe that the fat girl has had to talk herself out of anorexia multiple times?
I thought prom would be like a fairy tale. Now, I realized that it’s going to be just like the rest of the world—a nightmare. I don’t want to go to prom anymore. I just want to go and sleep and not wake up until I’m beautiful. But then, I’d never wake up.
(P.S. Sorry for the weird spacing. I guess formatting/HTML is just one more thing that I CAN’T DO.)