FAT chance

I do not think there has ever been a moment in my life when I did not see myself as FAT. Not pudgy, or thick, but FAT -regardless of what my real figure looked like. When I was eight I thought I was the biggest kid in the world. I wasn't. When I was twelve and my body began developing a bit earlier than my classmates', boys would look at me or elbow each other when I walked by. This would make me miserable for the rest of the day, because I believed what they were pointing out was how much of a monster I was. Not true, they were only after the tits. By the time I was sixteen I had already adopted a dark sense of style, and had a habit of covering my face with my long locks. I was bullied in school -guess why? Now I look back and realize it wouldn't have been such a big deal if school had not been my entire life, but it was. I did not live in the normal world, like adults, where they can encounter several types of idiots in different settings. I spent my days in school, and my reputation as the class' fatty preceded me. There were times when I was perfectly healthy and, dare I say, IN THE NORMAL WEIGHT RANGE, but my label was what it was and there was no way to overcome it. Men on the street would look at me, and I never understood why, because my auto-concept was clearly atrocious. 

This went on for years. Every time a guy paid a bit of attention to me I would be damn grateful, and a bit suspicious as well. Nowadays I look at pictures of myself when I was eighteen, twenty, twenty-two... And you know what, I was fucking gorgeous. Just like many other women I know. Why could I only see a monster in the mirror when I was actually a pretty decent-looking girl? And I know that every day, now, I'm looking in the mirror and catching a glimpse of that monster, because I have put on even more weight, and it tries to drag me every day into self-loathing territory. But I'm through with that. Because I am well aware of the fact that, ten years from now, I will be looking at pictures of me at my current age and saying: What the hell was I hiding myself for? I looked great.

Still I Rise - Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I'll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history's shame
I rise
Up from a past that's rooted in pain
I rise
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Acció-Reacció

Torna cap a casa, amb el rajolí de sang assecant-se-li sobre el llavi. No pensa en mentides per dir als pares, sap que no els veurà fins ben entrat el vespre. Coixeja lleugerament, encara li couen els ous de la puntada de peu. No ha estat malament avui, probablement tenien pressa.

No s’ho ha callat, fa mesos que ho va dir. La seva tutora, amb tota la bona fe del món, va parlar amb els altres. Després, amb els seus pares. Però res. Se li van riure a la cara, diu ella. Al cap i a la fi, què podia fer ella si els agressors tenien catorze anys i escaig.

‘Ignora’ls’, li diu la mare, ‘Si no els fas cas es cansaran’.

Però no es cansen mai, al contrari. Com més intenta suar de la seva cara, més viciosos es tornen, com gossos de presa.

‘Doncs t’hi enfrontes’, diu el pare, ‘A la meva època aquestes mariconades s’acabaven amb un parell d’hòsties’.

I mira que ho provava, però sempre anaven junts.

Abans d’arribar al portal es mira el banc mig podrit de sempre, envoltat de closques bavejades de pipes de gira-sol. S’hi asseu, de manera excepcional, i sense adonar-se’n li comencen a rodolar les llàgrimes galtes avall. No somica, només plora. Deixa anar l’amargor que el corromp per dins i deixa que la soledat l’inundi. Una desconeguda s’atura, entendrida per aquella cara rodoneta tan trista, i li ofereix un mocador de paper, que ell accepta, avergonyit. Ella no s’asseu, i ell se’n sent agraït. No vol explicar els seus problemes. No vol parlar més.

‘Res no dura per sempre’, xiuxiueja ella abans d’allunyar-se.

I aquesta simple frase el manté despert tota la nit, barrinant, barrinant, fins que és hora de tornar a l’institut. Segueix tenint por, segueix sense saber com acabarà tot, o simplement, si acabarà.

Però ja no se sent sol.

L’acompanya la fredor esmolada de la navalla dins la butxaca.

...

Tal vez no ser es ser sin que tú seas,
sin que vayas cortando el mediodía
como una flor azul, sin que camines
más tarde por la niebla y los ladrillos,

sin esa luz que llevas en la mano
que tal vez otros no verán dorada,
que tal vez nadie supo que crecía
como el origen rojo de la rosa,

sin que seas, en fin, sin que vinieras
brusca, incitante, a conocer mi vida,
ráfaga de rosal, trigo del viento,

y desde entonces soy porque tú eres,
y desde entonces eres, soy y somos,
y por amor seré, serás, seremos.

(Neruda)

Mary Elizabeth Frye (1932)

Do not stand at my grave and weep,

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the soft star-shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there; I did not die.

Simple

No hi ha gaire més a dir.

:) 

Jo...

També t'estimo.