Know what it feels like to be silenced for your entire life? Feel as if you’re trapped inside of your own body? Never being able to live up to any of the standards that are set forth from society, religion, a parent, social media?
That was me.
It seemed as though because of my vast intersectionalities (being Black and female), right from the womb I was told to keep my mouth shut and that my feelings were invalid. I was told that I’d have to always play by the rules, come in second, sometimes third, and be content with that shit. Always smile although pain is right beneath the surface. No one wanted to hear one complain about how hard life was. No one wanted to hear about anxiety or depression or body dysmporphia. If you prayed harder, was a better person and Muslim, then you surely wouldn’t have those sorts of issues.
Seems like a lot of us are living in denial. And, that we have a ton of projection going on of insecurities. Seems like a lot of us play it too safe and become resentful when others break out of their shells.
Well, I’m here to tell you that no one gives a fuck about your feelings.
After decades of seeing thin white girls on movies stick their fingers down their throats after purging and so wanting to be that thin and that beautiful and acceptable and that white with a skinny tush, I ate and ate and ate then scrambled to the toilet to regurgitate all the ‘bad’ foods and to my dismay, my gag reflex was too strong, so I was forced to be more fat and absorb all the empty calories.
I was dressed like a boy growing up because a Muslim girl is supposed to be modest, chaste, virgin, and unscathed by the harsh, harsh world. Men wouldn’t want to look at me sexually because I had on a huge tee that covered me like a fuckin bed sheet. Always had to worry about where a man’s eyes were. That’s the main concern. Are you too sexy? Are you asking for it? Did she deserve it?
Fat folks don’t deserve to slay. Fat folks need to cut their stomach in half, so they can be thinner with body issues and not fat with body issues. Because fat is bad. And thin is good. Fat is bad. Thin is good. Fat is bad. And, thin is…
Ya know there is one day when a person is fed up, and everything just stops.
And, you come to the realization that nothing is real. Nothing is set in stone. That the sun could just come a centimeter closer to earth and we’d all be fried to extinction. So, if that’s the case, then why are you living to make other people comfortable with you? Why are you ‘waiting’ to start your life?
Discomfort is temporary.
Discomfort is growth.
Growth is necessary.
I make people uncomfortable with my mere presence. That fact tickles me. That my presence, my essence is that powerful.
I won’t be apologizing for my mere being. For being fat. For being Black af. For being Muslim. I’ve said sorry enough by assimilating. By keeping quiet. By accepting abuse and ridiculous requests. By wasting time thinking about how dumb I sound or if I’m dimming someone’s flame because mine blazes so fierce or if this is all an illusion and I fall flat on my face instead of soaring. Maybe I’ll soar.
Actually, I’m not sorry at all for being myself, I’m unapologetic, and it’s only gonna get better.