I gained weight as I grew up.
I was still a kid when aunties started commenting on my weight.
“You’ve become fat,” they said.
When I was a teenager,
Mama used to criticize my weight all the time.
The way she forced me to dress,
Made me look older than I was.
Nobody noticed how lonely and isolated I had become.

A few years later,
I decided to lose weight.
I made appointments with a dietician,
And my weight started to be okay.

I was wearing what I wanted to.
I had thought all life’s troubles would be gone if I lost weight,
But that didn’t happen.

I gained weight again,
And lost it, then gained it back.
Again and again.
But I learned to start dealing with my problems.
I stopped caring about the numbers on the scale.
I discovered that exercise improved my mood,
So now, I work out whenever I have time.

I’m older now.
I can clearly see my family’s habits and patterns.
I can see that their issues with weight were about themselves,
Not me.
When I was younger,
I couldn’t understand why these people were so obsessed with weight.
They, too, are overweight,
And their eating habits are unhealthy.
And their genes make them prone to weight gain.
I was just the weakest link they could project all their anxieties on.