FAT not UGLY!!!

A few days back while talking to a friend, I told her I have gained weight to which she immediately responded, “But you still look pretty” while being sympathetic. It made me take a step back and contemplate that did I even mention that I look ugly?

Another day, I noticed a remark made by a character of The Big Bang Theory, 'Fatties & Uggos'.  It made me realize how being Ugly & being Fat are always used interchangeably. Fat hatred has become so pervasive that it is part of the fabric of our language and interactions. While what is ugly & what is beautiful is very subjective, it has rather become a universal message that Fat is Ugly. It all begins when you are a kid. Fat is the new ugly on the school playground. Children as young as 4-5 worry about being fat. Children in elementary school call each other fat as a put-down. We have always been told by our family and friends to look up to our friends/siblings who are thinner as they look smarter and prettier. Fat and thin are no longer simply assessments of size or weight, but rather of character.  If you are fat, you are lazy, lousy, and a loser.

Well Played! But it will be naive of me to point fingers at families alone. This will forever be a chicken and an egg story unless we begin to break the chain. If all of us start telling ourselves we are beautiful, it would be a great start. The world will still come at you, and that's a pretty good start.

#fatnotugly #fatgirlstories #bodypositivestories #SelfLove #celebratemycurves #celebratemysize #weightwatchers #beautiful #bodypositiveindia #plussizeindia #stopbodyshaming

PANIC: It All Starts Here

PANIC: It All Starts Here

My thoughts are rushing inside my head; I want them to slow so that I can breathe. My breath comes in wheezing and I feel like I will collapse. The room was spinning and I sat on the floor, trying to make everything slow. To something my brain and body can cope with, I feel so sick while my heart was pounding like a jackhammer. My eyes are wild and when I sit down, I am rocking, rocking and rocking. I am hurt, I am bleeding. I want to hold someone’s hand as I must not die alone on the dark highway. I need to call someone; Call the police, Call the hospitals. I am hurt. I want to call an ambulance but the phone is too far, it's too far, it's too far. I don't know who to call, what is their number. An invisible hands clasp over my mouth; an equally ghostly needle of anxiety pierces my heart, exploding it in seconds. I feel my ribs packed as if bound by ropes, straining to inflate my lungs. My head is a carousel of fears spinning out of control, each one pushing my mind into darkness. I want to run; I need to freeze. The sounds that were near feel far away, like I'm no longer in the body that lies immobilize. I'm on the floor in a ball- the foetal position. Where am I, where is he, where’re the hands, what's my name, who to call, what's the number, where’s my phone, where’s the steep stairs, aren’t they too far, aren’t they too far. The room is spinning and there is blackness, I guess he’s gone, I guess he’s gone. He’s gone, he went, he took my breath and he left leaving back the dark night and its creepiness.