My Permanent Reminder, Everyday Obstacle

When I was a young age of


I wanted to understand why the other kids could run

faster and l o n g e r

than I could.

When I was


I did not know why the big, bad

fifth graders

would point and laugh at me.

It was not until middle school that I understood

the words those kids left on me,

I would soon leave on myself.


The words clustered in my head;

F A T,



I could not escape them.

As I cried in my room wondering

not about how to cure my



or F A T N E S S,

but how to make the

voices voices voices voices


The small tool used to achieve

today's society's perception of


turned out to be the perfect tool I needed to



Finally, I could remind myself every day

the reason I will never       belong to the rest of society.

Permanently sliced into the skin on the side of my calf

was the word I am more familiar with then my own name:

F A T.

I was only


but already introduced to

"society's expectations"

of my appearance.


Today, I am happy.

I am about to:

  • begin my senior year of high school with a 3.8 GPA,
  • celebrate my boyfriend and I's two year anniversary,
  • celebrate my daughter's first birthday

so, I suppose you could say, life doesn't get much better than--


As I sit in my living room,

watching my daughter crawl and discover the world,

I cross my legs and see the reminder.

It's been four years since I made the mark,

but it still hurts the same.

There, in the skin of my calf, is the word I thought I outgrew:

F A T.


The word slices into my heart and soul more than my leg.

For one day, when my daughter is old enough, she will ask me,

"Momma, when did you get that owie on your leg?"

Will I tell her it was when I was

  • four and I could not run fast enough
  • six and I was being laughed at by the big, bad fifth graders
  • or when I could not make the voices voices voices voices go away

I let the words of few make a permanent reminder on my body.

The reminder is not just when I look down at my leg,

but it's when I allow that someone,

who loves me and thinks I am beautiful,

to get close enough to me and kiss my skin

and see the word that I fear he will believe.


I am not

F A T,

but I am left with a permanent reminder of the darkest days of my past.

I have learned my lesson, but I cannot undo my actions.

I am *blossoming* into someone I never imagined I could be.

I am a mother who knows my strength

and will fight my weaknesses,

my everyday reminders,

because that is how I will prosper and bloom.





This poem is about: 
Our world
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