I’m just going to put it out there: I’m fat.
It started about the time I hit puberty. My body was just going off, getting all round and thick-thighed and fat-assed. I went from a rail-thin malnourished kid to something resembling a deer stuck in pubescent headlights.
I was pissed. I wanted desperately to be thin. I didn’t know what exactly was wrong with the curves escaping everything I wore, but I was convinced that if my clavicles would just stick out a bit further or my thighs shrunk just a little more, I would be prettier, happier, better.
Plus, I was unhappily stuck in rural Ontario where I was the first brown kid a lot of people had met. There wasn’t anyone who looked like me where my family lived and the sad collection of a CD store, Zellers, and Stitches we fondly referred to as the “mall” reflected that. My parents tried anxiously to find me clothes in stores that catered only to white people whose asses were not quite as round as mine but it was always a struggle that ended in me crying in the change room.
I am grateful that my self control is low enough that I only managed to starve myself for one summer. I’m also grateful that my mom stopped trying to make me buy clothes in weird malls and helped me develop some sick thrifting skills to combat the lack of cool clothes that fit my DD chest and poppin’ ass.
And thank goddess because as it turns out, my skin is neither dark enough nor light enough to ever not be an outsider. My thighs are so thick that they rub together, burning in the summer. My ass is so fiercely round that I’m not sure I believe in jeans (just because I know they’re real doesn’t mean I have to believe in them) and I will not put them on my body. I worry that I will one day develop a moustache.
It gets exhausting thinking about the things I could be but am not. I am fat and I am pretty and I am kind. I try every day to replace negative thoughts with grateful ones and wear clothes that make me feel like a friggin’ goddess. This is who I am and there’s no sense in trying to be anything but.
Plus, I’m hot af check me outttttt.
Necklace, cobbled together myself at various crystal shops
This post is the first in our new series by Adella Rose Khan, Thick Thoughts. Adella is a badass babely writer with an entire galaxy nestled in her chest. Queer, brown, and full of love, she probably wants to give you a hug. Follow Adella on Twitter and Instagram.
Special thank you to Fraser Tripp for these gorgeous photos! We are so grateful and honoured to have you both here.