The Elephant in the Room

It’s always there with me. It protects me while simultaneously destroying me. I know everyone sees it, even if they are too polite to mention it. I see it too with every glance in the mirror. This elephant in the room plagues me night and day. It sits on me, slowly crushing my body and soul.

I have always been overweight. As a child, I was chubby but not to the extent of inhibiting my play. I hated vegetables and loved fries, but my mother insisted I eat balanced meals every day, so it wasn’t a significant issue.

That changed as I entered adolescence.

“Honestly, if you were skinnier, I’d rather date you than Susan, but as it is, I’m just more attracted to her. Although I really like your personality better,” he told me as we went to pick up his girlfriend.

I forced a laughed and said, “Yeah I know I’m overweight. I have been my entire life. It’s really something I should work on.” My eye focused on the tiled floor below us. It was white with black flecks, and I made sure to avoid each seam between the tiles. My pace slowed as my focus shifted away from the conversation we were having.

My weight became my shield. When I liked a boy, and he didn’t like me back, it was easy to blame it on my weight. It wasn’t because our personalities didn’t mesh or because he just didn’t see me that way. No, it was because he was shallow and couldn’t get over the fact that I was heavier than the average girl.

This sense of protection and comfort lead me into a cycle of unhealthy eating habits and denial. I tried to avoid the problems as long as I could, but now I’m too tired. I’m tired of avoiding mirrors. I’m tired of hating every photo I take. I’m tired of living with the elephant in the room, so I’m making a change. I am becoming healthy.