She carries her chains
inside her skin; if ignored,
their weight she can bear.
My dad used to make fun of me when I was going through puberty. I was never obese – maybe five pounds overweight at the most – but I had an awkward body for a while. I would tell him that it hurt me and ask him to stop, but he thought it was hilarious. (and he liked finding a place where I was vulnerable, because my inner strength has always intimidated him) Since I went through that, I have never been able to be satisfied with my body, especially my belly, because that was what he mocked the most. It doesn't matter that my weight is perfect for my body – it only matters that my belly sticks out too much.
Now, I feel for overweight women so much that sometimes it makes me cry. Many, many, many times since puberty I have seen an overweight woman and earnestly prayed that God would make her an attractive weight. Woman has a built-in love for beauty; it is agonizing pain for her to live every day unable to find beauty in herself – to live every day with the acute knowledge that her culture says she is worthless. I find myself shying away from overweight women because their pain is so powerful I can't help feeling it.