I took this picture right after two boys walked past me and not quietly whispered that I looked like ‘a fat cow’. Had this happened to me even a year ago I probably would have been a wreck and I’m not going to bullshit you and say that I didn’t feel anything - of course it hurt. That’s not exactly a great thing to hear. But after pulling out a pair of jeans I wanted to try on and going to the dressing room, I took a few minutes just to look in the mirror, to try and see what those boys saw when they called me a fat cow.
I saw this. I saw me. I saw a nineteen-year-old college student who likes to write and read and blog, who enjoys Disney more than the average person, who could talk about John Green and Batman and Severus Snape for weeks, who shaved her head in November just because she fucking wanted to; I saw the person my girlfriend is in love with, the person my best friends turn to when they need help, the aunt my niece kisses every night before bed. I saw an optimistic young woman who has come so far despite an anxiety disorder that she was convinced would keep her from ever being happy.
I didn’t see my body because it does not define me. And why should I give a shit if two strangers think I look like a fat cow? I shouldn’t. I don’t. Besides, I’d rather be a fat cow than a giant asshole.
It just feels really great not giving a shit. I recommend you all do the same.