The other day, I was walking around my campus, one hand holding my coffee with little milk, and little sugar while the other held a newspaper. I was pondering over the next assignment to be completed, or that I had five minutes to go to my next class. My thoughts never strayed from school, projects and work. If I wasn't considering what time I would have to run from one class to the next, I would then contemplate over what time the next bus would be coming, calculating the exact time I would arrive at home then rush of to the gym.
It was then that the news paper caught my attention. The ads, especially demanded my attention showing a picture of a model in a bikini. Suddenly, I felt conscious of own body, of my thighs, my butt and my chest. I remembered looking at my coffee considering how much calories I had absorbed merely from drinking milk, water and sugar, then I offered my half-eaten cookie to a friend who could not gain weight if her life depended on it.
It's amazing how one could feel extremely confident one moment and have it snatched away in a millisecond. I'm sure that I'm not the only victim of life, the life we have chosen for ourselves.
It's funny to put it that way. It implies we have a choice; that we can choose to be smart, sexy, and amazingly athletic in a moment and find ourselves quite disappointed. It also implies that fate…doesn't exist and that you control your life, you are the master of yourself. Yet, I find it ironic that life doesn't work that way.
So, while I sat there at the lecture hall, my behind fitting perfectly on the chair, I felt ill at ease, suddenly conscience. Am I fat? Am I ugly? Did I need to wear more make up? Is it really necessary to tie my hair up?
It certainly didn't help when a distant relative of mine called, saying to my mother how I needed to loose weight because I'm on the verge of death, what with the consequences of overweight being heart attack or diabetes. Of course, coming from the uncle whose daughter weighs less than a hundred pounds at the age of twenty-five didn't strike me odd. The thought that she was always rude to my elders, almost selfish and the most careless person I had ever met did not even enter my head. Rather, I began believing him, and slowly I began accepting the negative comments about myself and ignoring all the compliments other people gave me.
Friends of mine, God bless their heart, told me several times that I was 'curvy'. One of my closest friends told me she would give anything to have a chest like mine. I jokingly told her, that if she wanted the chest, she would have to take half of my ass too. Laughing, we turned to Troy and drooled over Brad Pitt. Still, I never took them seriously enough. I was blind to the looks random guys would give me, or the envy the model like girls shot at me. Rather, I believed their words, when they hatefully said, "Move it, Fatty."
It's amazing how much power words have. It's so easy to insult someone, and so hard to say, "You're beautiful the way God created you."
I still don't believe anyone when they randomly compliment me. Although I realize the truth along time ago, my sub-consciousness is so in tuned with the criticism that I forget sometimes to enjoy life. I forget to tell my mother that I love her, or tell my best friend how much I appreciate her honestly. I forget to thank my father for all his support and my family for the humor in my life.
So, sitting back in the lecture hall the next day, I again walked in. One hand was holding my coffee cup with little milk and little sugar, a newspaper in the other and my cell phone ringing. Again I'm thrown in the world of assignments, tests and exams. Yet as I sit back, listening to my professor, I think…
Life is too short.
AN: Please, no flames. This is extremely close to me, so I appreciate any comments. Thanks.