Angry Anna

So I havnt posted for a while and that's because I've been on holiday (if you count London as a holiday). I'll go a blog post on that another day.

The situation I want to address is very close to my heart. I've been trying to think of a way to nicely put it. But I'm so angry, there is no nice way.

I don't care what anyone says, calling someone fat, or worthless because they are heavier than a average person is so wrong. I'm not going to say "every girl is beautiful in their own right" because this blog post is dedicated to me, Anna.

All my life I have been told that I am fat.. by my own family. My own flesh and blood thought it would be a good idea to drill it into my head that I was fat. That I needed to slim down. News paper after news paper of story clippings of little girls slimming down, I believed it. I believed that I was fat. But, the part that gets me is, I was categorised fat, but they carried on giving me whole cherry pies and cream cakes, they carried on stocking up the crisp cupboard, they carried on brain washing me, telling me I was fat.

When I was 8, I started to wonder, why was it only me that was getting called fat in my family. Why was it only be who was given whole cherry pies. I found the answer a few months back. I wasn't. I looked round my family and every single one of them was "fat" some of my cousins were "fat" so why me? Because they knew I would believe them? Because I was vulnerable?

Being called fat by my family didn't lead me just to comfort eat and pile on the pounds, but I would constantly hear "just have one cream cake" or "there's pudding in the fridge" it also left me with really bad self esteem issues and panic attacks, if my own family was calling me fat, what was everyone else thinking? I started to get really paranoid about everything.

Does anyone realise what they have actually done to me? The once confident little girl has gone and she's never coming back, that little girl went a very long time ago. Does anyone realise when you get told time after time what you look like you have out on weight, that it hurts? Has anyone even thought about how it might of made me feel? When people are talking about you, while you are in the kitchen? Does anyone even care about how I felt? Did that ever cross anyone's minds?

I thought prom was going to be magical, and I really felt utterly shit. I felt fat, I felt orange, I hated my hair and I was sat on a table with people who made me feel so uncomfortable being me. How is that okay? "Aye, Anna's okay, she's thick skinned" is she okay? Have you asked her, because I'm pretty sure if you do, it's a whole different story.

Being my type of fat isn't a choice. I got brainwashed into it, I will always be the fat cousin even when I do finally get to my target weight. The Taylor's need to realise I'm not a target any more, I have the gun now, and shots are going to get fired.

Mwah
X x x