Muslim Angel: A Poem

       

        So, today is May 5th. When I woke up this morning I had nothing more than thoughts of foolish acts and enough liqour to make me forget about what I did.  But as my luck would have it…. it didnt turn out that way.

        I was minding my own business on the Washington, D.C. subway/metro system when something outrageous occurred. I witness Americans discriminating against a Muslim woman who was merely seeking help to get to another metro station.  She was no taller than about 5’5, 5’6 at the most, and between the ages of 48 to 54. She posted no threats whatsoever. When I tell you that I was soooo disgusted that I had to step in and do my part….. you cant even imagine what was going on in my soul.  As a black woman it clicked, as an American I was ashamed, and as a human I felt compelled to do whatever I could. All of this just 2 days after the news broke that Osama bin Laden was killed.

        I went to twitter and I posted the following status: “Dear Muslim woman dressed in full attire, I saw the looks we got on the metro as I helped you find Van Doren. I now understand.” Immediately upon writing that I wrote, “Pardon me….. I am inspired to write a poem.” And I did.

        Work was not a concern of me at the moment. I took to my computer and wrote the following poem:

Muslim Angel

By: 2Deep the Poetess (www.2deepuncensored.wordpress.com)

May 5, 2011

 

Rush Hour

Dim light

The sound of the hustle and bustle of destined feet rush by

Head bobbing to the rhythm of modern complacency

Conformed to public transportation etiquette

Confined

Blending

Silenced

Until

Muslim angel,

Because such a thing exists,

Dressed in full, all white garb

Hijab edges outlined in sea-foam blue,

Magnifying her faith 10 times over,

Wonders towards me in a 5^th attempt to gain assistance

Previous attempts brushed off by head turns

Flaps of Express newspapers in response to her

Popping like bullets of insults

As headlines of Osama’s demise dangle in her face

As if to say, “Look at what we can do to your kind, here inAmerica”

I saw this

In that moment, I was not proud to be an American

If this was, in fact, the way an American should act

I knew it was not her Farsi trained tongue exercising broken English

That made them ignore her requests

I understood her just fine

“Help me”, sprang from her lips

And translated to comprehension via my eyes

Before I even removed my headphones

I asked if she could repeat herself

“Good Morning”, she said

“Help me, please.

Van Doren.”

Without second thought I took the metro map out of her hand

Took her hand in my other and said, “Follow me.

I will take you.”

A gasp schoolyard bullied its way out of the throat of the Caucasian woman standing next to me

Eavesdropping getting the best of her

My original mission of getting to work on time escaping me

This was bigger than me

Something greater inside of me whispered

“Do not let go of her hand.”

And I obeyed

Seemingly safe within the metal cage

Transporting civilians into the breast of the Confederacy

Older Black woman sang disgust

Like a house nigger gawking

As if I was a field nigger threatening to bring mud into the big house

Exercising her Jim Crow

Removing herself from the front of the car, next to us, to sit elsewhere

Muslim Angel and I stuck out like sore thumbs

Comparison to Freedom Bus rides

We sat front seat at society’s counter

Demanding we be served respect

Express newspaper under my thigh

Feeling guilty for seeking out current events

For today I now knew

I was not proud to be an American

She was I and I was she

And here we sat

Traveling to a place where only one of us knew how to get to

Me to Van Doren

She to a place where she could brave the prejudice and still keep her chin high while seeking help

She needing to know what I knew and vice versa

Yet we sat in silence

Communicating through squeezed palms

Praying to one another for remaining true to who they were

And though she spoke Farsi and I English

We both managed, somehow, to speak human

And we continued to hold on to one another

“Next stop Van Doren”, rang over the intercom

Promised land for her and I

As I walked her out to the platform of her destination

Allah shook God’s hand

Hugged

And said many thanks

All the while I noticed we never said bye

Never shared names

Yet knowing we were sisters just the same

Understanding our coexistence in the midst of those who merely exist

I hope that you enjoyed the poem. I want to hear your thoughts on it. Your thoughts on the situation and anything else that you have to say. I pray that there are other people out there who think like I do and would have done the same thing.

Sincerely,

~*My Mother’s Daughter*~

Lyrically Speaking….Urban Mystic: I Refuse

        I’ll never forget where I was when I first heard this song. I was on the phone with my high school sweetheart after about a year of me not speaking to him. He was back at his old tricks of trying to get me to fall for him all over again. He told me to check out this song, and I had never even heard of the artist, much less the song….but I said that I would. And I did. Loved it. Thought that I should burst out into singing “Killing Me Softly” because Urban Mystic was telling my whole life with his words.

        This song has that high school feel. That, “talking on the phone all night or at least holding the phone as you fall asleep” type feel. This song just oozes the rekindling of an old flame. This is NOT the song you need to play while you are engaged to your future wife ( just saying) lmao!. But it does have that “tug on the heartstrings of hopeless romantics who cant wait to be with their first loves just once more” type feel.

The intro is enough to make you call everyone in your black book and make individual appointments. lol

Intro:urban(woman)
yo baby (what?s up)
what we had was so special (yea I know)
what you doin now (left my man back at the 9 to 5 just trying to make things work)
Yeah, I never thought I?d see you again (and I never thought I?d see you again)
yeah, (what a coincidence)
well that?s how things happen (yea I know, I wanna have you just one more time)
But you know what (what’s that)
You know what?s odd (what is it)

        Her tone is just begging for him to come and get it. It’s almost as if she planned for them to meet again. Like she searched for him and put herself in a place to be strategically found by him. I’m not mad at her. I would do the same damn thing…lol I mean, how simple is the intro? But this is about as kinky as Teddy Pendergrass talking over a track. It says “Get those panties off… TAKE ‘EM OFF!” lmao.

Verse 1:
What are the odds of me bumping into you again (one in a million)
What are the odds of me seeing my first lover friend (two in a million)
It’s been two years since we both graduated, I still can feel how we both celebrated
I can’t get over your voice on my phone, we’ve been apart for so long.

 

        This takes me back to that time when you locked eyes with the person that you love after being apart for so long. Or even the thought of them that sends chills down your spine and ends at your happy place. I mean really… they had to have been something special that without even touching you or being in the same room with you they can make you smile and head towards a cold shower.  What are the odds of every person doing that to you? Zero in a million.

Chorus:
So I refuse to wait, my patience is out the door baby
I refuse to hear you say, u don’t want me no more baby
I refuse to blame, you for anything – me for any thing
lets not take finding each other in vain, its not a coincidence baby

 

        Obviously, all is forgiven or they are just that horny. lol. I mean he is not even wanting to hold a grudge. I mean she has GOT to have kryptonite in her panties to get a man to go out on a limb like this. I’m still having a hard time trying to figure out if this is love or lust, but in the moment of passion I don’t think that it really matters, now does it? lol

Verse 2:
Remember we use to sneak off when your mama dosed off
Hit the back seat of my Chevy fog up the windows
Made love to sweet lady our favorite song
kept it moving slow and steady to the tempo
Then we would lay there and hold on to each other like there wasn’t a tomorrow
I can’t get over your voice on the phone, we’ve been apart for so long

 

        LMAO!!! See parents….THIS is why you should equip your child with house arrest ankle bracelets! lol.  Teach your girls that leather burn is a hoe’s tattoo…lol. This verse in and of itself just keeps me cracking up! It is so romantic, and so serious, yet hilariously funny because someone , somewhere has done some…if not all..of this at one point in time in their life. And there he is remembering it all years later. See…if you got that Good Good ladies they will always remember. Better yet, he will admit to cuddling!!!!!!! Chorus repeats and then…..

Verse 3

You know, damn well, you’re suppose to be in my life
Riding by my side (Oh yeah yeah)
You know, damn well, you’re suppose to be coming home to me every night

Baby if you’re not that far away
Maybe we can spend the day
Catch up on all the loving we lost
Let me kiss you in your favorite place

        So….. if he doesn’t get what he wants he damn near gets beligerent..lol. YOU KNOW DAMN WELL, WOMAN! All he wants to do is kiss you in your favorite place.  Just KINKY!!! KINKY , I TELL YA! lol.  Yep.. been there. Had the kind of passion where you knew better than to be left alone in the same place with that other person because baby making would surely follow no matter the consequences…. *shakes head at the thought* Sorry, had a flash back…lmao!

        Well, every time I listen to this song I think of what I went through that made this song so relevant to me. I thank the person who decided to bring it to my attention and I will always hold a special place for this song in my heart. Tales like this really do happen in real life….and I am a witness to it. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always turn out to be a love connection….but the memories are a nice reminder of what love can look like. It gives you hope of what is in the future. And if nothing else, it is just nice to know that you are wanted. I refuse to lose hope for love. I simply refuse to.

P.S. I also refuse not to die laughing at the fact that the model who Tyra Banks yelled at is in this video. lmao.

P.P.S. I refuse to fight the urge to call him K-C from Jodeci. lmao!

Sincerely,

~*My Mother’s Daughter*~

 

I’m Not a Lesbian, but I Played One In College

        Now that I have your attention… welcome. The taboo sentiments that circle around the topic of homosexuality are enough to make me torch the nearest discriminating heterosexual with rainbow gasoline. Seriously, no matter what you think of the topic ,no one civil right should be trumped by one’s disapproval of another’s civil rights. Point, Blank, Period!

        The title, obvious. I pulled a Katy Perry once in undergrad; I kissed a girl…and I liked it. One time, end of story. Nothing dramatic, nothing scandalous, just truth. What?!!! I went to a majority white college… girl on girl kissing is required in the student constitution to get your diploma…lol. So, should I be persecuted for a seemingly innocent homosexual act? Should I be banned from heaven because, in all actuality, I find the feminine form more attractive than that of a male’s but prefer the male’s over a woman’s? Or do I get a pass, the left blinded eye of justice, because I am a “redeemed” homosexual and I didn’t even send in $10.99 for a free healing prayer cloth? News flash, it is not the act that makes a person homosexual.

        I’ve never had sex with a woman, I just can’t picture myself ever taking it that far….so I’m a lesbian on paper…lol. I send in my dues every month at a gay pride rally but that is about it. But if you ask me how do I identify myself….you’ll never hear me say heterosexual. For that matter, you’ll never hear me say I’m homosexual. I just am. I stand in the middle, torn by what a part of me once experienced and what the rest of the world says is appropriate, all the while thinking that they could both exist harmoniously.

        Ignorance about homosexuality makes me cringe. I actually have a co-worker who once, while proclaiming his frustration over his son’s flying to New York from Florida to see his long distance girlfriend, said, “Well, it could be worse. He could be gay.” He said it as if being a serial killer, an international terrorist, or satan himself were all better than if his son were a homosexual with perfect credit and a clean criminal record with the cure to all currently incurable diseases stuffed in his left jean pant pocket. But this of course is coming from the same “Christian” coworker who posted this above his desk:       

I rest my case……….Shame how people can hate but can’t even copy/paste scripture properly…lol

         I have homosexual friends that I have invited to my church over, and over, and over again. I hate having to preface with “the speaker may hit an anti-homosexual rant, but listen to the voice of God between it all.” I want to stand up and shout during service…. “MUCH LIKE THE MILITARY, THE MORE PEOPLE WE HAVE SPREADING GOD’S MESSAGE, THE BETTER OFF WE ARE IN THIS WAR AGAINST EVIL!” But I don’t. I let the masses in the pews clap and cheer and Amen the minister of the day. Deep down I just want to fix it all, help bring a different approach. Telling me that I am wrong will not make me listen to you, but showing me another way for something to be done may get me to see your side. Shouting to the hills that homosexuality is wrong keeps so many lost souls from hearing God’s message. It’s almost as if they don’t think that bringing them into His house, teaching the rest of his teachings, will be enough ground work for God to magically work in their lives the way that He sees fit. It’s almost as if they are shouting that you can’t be Christian if you are a homosexual or don’t disapprove of homosexuals. When in fact they could try the Pythagorean-ish theorem.  If a=God, and b=His mercy, then c=His love for you. One may conclude after hearing those lessons repeatedly that God would work inside of the person. You can’t cut out what you THINK is cancer without first taking tests, blood work ( pardon the religious pun), X-rays, and even the initial incision on the surgery table. Baby steps, not attack. And I am not saying here that it should even be changed…but if you think that homosexuals should be changed…think of a different approach.

I also don’t think that religiously suppressing homosexuals is a healthy method of spiritually reforming people for the heterosexual partners that they may find themselves with. As a female who would one day like to be married to a male, I have fears of being in a relationship with a male who loves another male but because his church tells him he should be with a female he picks one as a front for the public and then begins down low activities…been there, done that… tested negative. That is a touchy subject for me. If you told me that my “now” husband was once with a man… I would always wonder if he still had those same feelings and I would want him to go be with whomever made him happy rather than stick around in a marriage with me simply because I was female. Only God can change an urge. My urge to stop having sex, though, doesn’t make me a virgin again, just like making someone stop engaging in homosexual activities will not make a homosexual a heterosexual. So am I wrong for letting God work his magic on the things that would cause me to hate? Am I wrong for having faith that God will work things out and as long as I continue to love everyone around me, respect them as humans and preach the word of God to get people into His house, no matter their sexual preference, God will be proud of me? Or am I wrong for thinking that it is ridiculous to lose a person over one Biblical scripture rather than gain them through a thousand others?

        I highly doubt that when it is all said and done that I will get to the pearly gates and Peter is gonna chuck up the Dueces with Jesus on speaker phone as they both tell me that I must spend eternity in hell because I didn’t choose to persecute the gays. People use the Bible at their convenience to promote their cause. I say, if you don’t use it all exactly the way that it was written….dont come hollering that nonsense in my ear all out of context. I’ve even heard ministers say that “this is a new time but the messages still apply”. Well, when your wife can’t have a baby you better not turn to invetro, you better sleep with your house servant. When Michael Jackson died he should have risen like Lazarus. I’m just saying… do you see the disconnect here? Why is it that other things can be forgotten, modernized, and substituted, but the principle of homosexuality and adamant hatred associated with it managed to last throughout the ages? Maybe, now, God needs this individual, who happens to be a homosexual, to know the love that God has for all human beings. Maybe this individual needed to hear how Job waited on the Lord, or how Joseph, David, and others over came trials. Maybe they need for you to practice the agape that you preach. Just maybe.

        I know several homosexuals that walk the halls of my church without them ever having to say a word but I have proof….their secret will be safe with me even after I die ( and I love them for EXACTLY who they are). I have several friends who are openly homosexual and I preach the word of God to them. I even have one requesting that I explain to her what “touch and agree” means because I say it around her so much. And I have a homosexual friend who revealed to me their HIV status…I didn’t shy away from them, I didnt think…”that’s what you get”, no… I loved them even more. And I laugh, joke, and talk about God with them whenever I can. I actually have some deep conversations about God with this individual. So yeh… the gays know the Holy Trinity as well… they just don’t always feel accepted by those claiming to be “His” people. You see, I don’t think that its my place to cast the first stone, but it is my place to say, come into God’s house, listen to his word and He will work on you in His time. I love all of my brothers and sisters, straight, not so straight, and flat out crooked. I think that is what I am supposed to do.

        A homosexual engaging in homosexual acts may not directly or indirectly kill me. But a straight man who came to church to hear a word about how God will make a way out of no way but instead hears about the persecution of the gays who then leaves and holds my bank hostage while i’m trying to pull out rent money….just might. No one sin is greater than another. Shouting “no homo” is not only stupid, but saying that you are not the same…when in fact you are. You too are human, you too are a sinner looking to be saved, and you too are praying that one day you will get into heaven despite your faults. So much like weight, who a homosexual loves just happens to be a visual habit that many feel they can pick on while keeping their own personal habits in the closet.

        This is not a rant to say that “Christians” are wrong and homosexuals are right. Just like I am entitled to my opinion, you are more than welcome to be bigoted by yours. *smirk* I just know that I can wake up with my conscience free every morning knowing that I am not hating someone or a sect of persons just because someone standing before me says that I should. God hasn’t spoken that chapter of the Bible to me yet.

        All jokes aside, I don’t believe everything that I read because many a man has had their say so in what I read before my eyes ever set sail across the page. But I do believe that God exists and my relationship with him is one of understanding and love. I am comfortable in that and will not let anyone else’s interpretation of how my Father and I behave taint my relationship with Him or how He chooses to shine through me. Again, you “christian” your way and I will “christian” my way..yes, I made it a verb. lol. It shouldn’t be that way, but as it stands….this is peaceful. Now…back to the gays…..

        Being a homosexual, to me, isn’t a crime……hate my theory all you want, I will not change. I say this… premarital sex isn’t favored upon….lets hold everyone to that standard no matter what your preference. Because I would hate for someone to not get saved and know God like I am still getting to know him just because they chose to love differently than myself. I have faith that God can work miracles and if GOD chooses to keep them homosexual…then that is between God and that person. I must uphold the love, grace, and mercy that has been shown to me and display it to others who come in my presence. I’m not a homosexual, nor am I heterosexual,;I am the understanding. I understand what it feels like to want someone to hear you out. I also know what it feels like to hear God telling me what to do, not tainted in my mission and do it in spite of. I also know that God would want me to love far more than he would ever want me to hate. And if I am wrong in that assumption, He’ll deal with me on my Judgement Day. Until then… all humans are alright with me. None of us are 100 % right nor know all of the answers, but I will definitely love you until we find a conclusion or one of us dies. And if these men don’t start acting right I just might cash in my lesbian on paper membership to a full fledge flag waving VIP member… DON’T PUSH ME!!! No hetero.

P.S. If you like this topic, check out my other topic: 200 Men Said…. “Same”phobic Homosapiens <~Click Here

Sincerely,

~*My Mother’s Daughter*~

Yes, I’m Fat….Thanks for Noticing

There's no hope for me if THIS is considered too fat!

 

AN UNCENSORED WARNING: If you are about to read this..please leave a comment below so I know what you think so I can know what writing works and what doesnt. It simply irks the $#!+ out of me for me to write all this, people read and not respond. Actually, its rude as hell. Now….enjoy.     

My night ended and my day began with the discussion of being the plus size friend. Something that is a bit of a taboo conversation, and depending on what region of the world you’re in,it also has a different source of relevancy. Well, being plus size in the Nation’s capital is like being the lone colored person at the taping of Birth of a Nation; you may have the privilege of being there, but trust me when I tell you that you are nothing more than a prop or hired help. Even yesterday my friends and I had conversations of whether or not I was this guy’s “type”. I explained to them that seldom am I ever anyone’s type. One goes on to tell me that I have to stop thinking that way because it could read on me. I swiftly told her that I never think poorly of myself and that I am the business every time I step my foot on this green earth, but common sense can tell you when a person just isn’t that into you; you recognize that and you keep it moving. Only desperate people stay around when they’re not wanted. Thankfully, I am not that type of woman because knowing when you are not wanted can save you the blunt force of rejection that gets thrusted in your face or stabbed in your back by either a casual flirt or a love interests who subtly or boldly lets you know that its your weight that makes you unattractive.    

Despite any amount of confidence one may have leaving the house, not even your understanding of placing the whole armor of God on could shield you from the source of hate and disgust that could be issued in your direction upon stepping foot off of your personal property. The amount of separation that the world places on plus size people would never equate to the battle of homosexuals or the holocaust, but it does resemble that of the Civil Rights era. Actually, it could be just a tad bit worse because the bigots dont out right express their hatred for you. Brand name stores like LVLX, RAVE, and Vera Wang are encrypted signs that say No Fats allowed, Fit Persons Only. You should check the seat of the sales person’s size 2 panties as she is about to drop a load on herself when a plus size woman enters one of these stores. She tries to both monitor the items that the plus size person has in their arm and remember the politically correct phrasing for reminding the plus size person that their big ass has no home within the walls of this anti-obese clothing facility. Inside, the plus size person wants to scream, “Trick, can I please shop your jewelry in peace?” or “May I please purchase this size zero for a family member or friend without you preparing a eulogy for the zipper without my having even asked for the location of the dressing rooms?” No matter where we go, we are just assumed to be one way rather than being taken on an individual basis.      

I carry the  struggle of weight just like the next plus size person, but I am my own person. I can get up and run a mile without complaining….but who does that for fun? lol. I can teach dance classes for hours without even noticing that this is in fact considered exercise, or walk the mall for hours carrying bags and never once request to sit down from body aches. I am NOT by any stretch of the imagination the most athletic person you will ever meet, but I am also not the laziest. If you were to follow me on any given day you would imagine how a person could move around so much and be my size, just to come to the conclusion of confusion when I tell you that I am both safe and harmed behind the walls of my fat rolls. Here I know that not many people will look my way when standing beside my rather modelesque or regular/average sized friends, but I am also safe from the people who would still overlook my mind and what I have to offer just because they are attracted to my outer presence. So, I don’t know the next person’s battle, but mine is to never be seen as just another ass for another deceptive guy to place on his conquer list. My fat has become my defense mechanism….but here I sit watching the world that I was once a part of wanting to belong to it once more …..just without the risks.      

So, to all the plus size girls out there….I know what it feels like to fall in love with a guy and to be hidden and confined to after dark visits, never introduced to friends or family and treated differently than when you first met. I know what it feels like for people to swiftly push-off your concerns about how the world treats you by telling you that “if its your weight that you feel is the problem, then why not just lose the weight.” I know what it feels like to walk into a club with other plus size friends and hear a guy yell “Damn, there must be a buffet in the back with all of these big bitches coming up in here” or the guy sporting a shirt with the silhouette of a grotesque replica of a plus size girl surrounded by burgers and fries and other carb induced items adorned with the Ghostbusters “No” sign that reads “I don’t do Big Bitches”. Or to be walking with your friends, dressed in your best from head to toe, feeling confident in your decision as you have not fallen into the BGID [Big Girls in Denial] syndrome,you’re properly & proportionately covered and looking dazzling…just to have a guy walk up to you and say “If that’s your best, I don’t want to see your worse” . He then gives his cronies dap and other male bonding gestures that now makes him a man for trying to defeat an innocent woman just because she wasnt aesthetically pleasing to him. Also,I know what it feels like to be out dancing with your friends as a guy walks over to dance with one of the thinner divas, takes her purse and shoes that she was holding in her hand and hands them to you after saying “Here, you can hold this since no one is going to dance with you anyway.” Or to go to a Howard University homecoming and have a guy videotape and joke on another plus size friend that you came with as you jump in the line of the camera’s shot to block and protect your innocent friend from becoming the target of an internet joke fest…just to have her turn on you and say that you don’t understand because you’re smaller than her and not really plus size. What about reading a tweet that says “….. if you let yourself go, dont expect me to hold on.”? And I also know what it feels like to playfully flirt with a friend and watch him turn to every OTHER friend you’re with while your back is turned and attempt to flirt with them, or to sit in the backseat of a car and have that same guy think that you are either stupid enough or blind enough for the dark of night to mask his holding hands with a friend that you just introduced him to as she sits quietly in the front seat with his hand rested on her knee/thigh. I know what it feels like to sit back after all of this has happened and wonder if being thinner would make you visible again or wonder what could be so wrong with you that people don’t properly take your emotions into consideration.      

What I have found after all of this soul-searching is that….. it is not me. Also, it is not my friends’ fault for being who they are. Yet, after all of that you try to compartmentalize the pain that comes with being you…with being a citizen in the land of More of You To Love…just to conclude that there is nothing you can do. I love myself just the way I am and it is wrong of me to let other’s actions in the presence of who I am make me feel as if I am inadequate, or that I am any less of the beautifully God crafted woman who I was intended to be. I deserve respect, I deserve love, and although all of that evades me now…..one day it will come when it is supposed to and I don’t think that me being a smaller size should have anything to do with that match made in heaven occurring for me. In the meantime, I just have to laugh at the many people who overlook the joy that is within me, the intelligence that i house, and the romantic gestures that I wish to one day share with my husband….in a way my size is allowing shallow people to pass me by and in the present mind frame I’m okay with that. My message to the bigots is that I will not try to change you, if you promise not to try to change me. So, with that…I will continue to analyze why these negative comments and actions issued in my direction as if I am not human, not attractive, not capable of understanding that I am being dissed…hurt as much as they do. Why do these comments keep me from socializing on a personal level, reaching outside of my comfort zone and grabbing life by the balls and saying , “Fuck You! Now pass me the plate”.  I guess it’s too much to try to process all at once, to dissect and understand so I compartmentalize, and when asked why I am so upset I respond with….I’m just too fat for words.      

One day, the world will come to learn that being plus sized is genetics, a taught/learned behavior, a medical disease [a disorder or thyroid], and a process that one jokes on only makes the matter worse. This just happens to be a personal battle that we wear on our sleeves, stomachs, and thighs so many feel they can attack it, ignore it, disrespect it, and judge it. I’d love to see the day when alcoholics, liars, sex addicts, adulteress, and thieves [etc.] could wear their habits on their sleeves, able to be viewed by the rest of the world. Until then, I am a brave soul to know that I hold my head up ever day I walk into the world, fat and all, as the world can see my habits and continue to not make an excuse for who I am. I tell the rest of the world that if you are so above me….why do you hide your habits? Why do you throw up behind closed doors, hold hands in the dark, drink while others aren’t looking or sex with someone you just met in hopes that they will say I love you back and mean it? Yes, I’m  fat….thanks for noticing. Now…what else can you see?      

~Sincerely,      

My Mother’s Daughter