He called me Little Debbie in ninth grade and I don't think I will ever forget it. He looked at me in the eyes and said, "How do your cakes taste Little Debbie?"
Honestly, I didn't even know who or what Little Debbie was, but context clues told me he was calling me fat. I knew I was fat, I could look in the mirror and see that, but I was happy too. Summer of ninth grade was the first time I ever made myself throw up, a one time occurrence.
In tenth grade, walking home from school my "friend" asked me what I wanted to do after college. I told her I would love to be a veterinarian, but if that didn't work out, a journalist. She said neither would work and I needed better plans because I wasn't good enough at math to be a doctor and I didn't have a wide enough vocabulary to be a journalist. That was the year I came to know God. I turned to Him through the struggle, the pain.... both physically and emotionally, because that was also the year that my self-injury was at its peak.
The following school year I made a friend that would properly introduce me to Ed. Not that she wanted to, but we soon learned that Ed travels quickly from one person to the next. He's not a one girl type of guy and don't we know those are the hardest to leave. They can be so charming!
I've made a firm decision to leave Ed, but it's the most difficult thing I have ever done; even debilitating at times. When all you want is control, Ed knows how to control you. He plays a good game, but I know I can play it better.
A couple things have kind of caught me off guard this past week or so. I had asked a trusted friend, a sister, to keep me in her prayers thinking that, like most others, she would say a prayer and get on with life... Well, about a week ago when I walked in to the youth building just before going upstairs to teach my class she said hello and with a careful glance said, "Have you been keeping it up?" I didn't have the heart to lie and say I had, but knowing that she remembered, that she cares... It meant more than anything.
I have a tendency to not speak in truth, I don't necessarily lie, but I don't speak with the whole entirely honest truth. And well, someone called me out on it today. It surprised me but it was good because it makes me see what I need to work on. I might be real in my writing, but it's incredibly difficult for me to speak honestly. She didn't just call me out and moved on, she told me that I don't need to be afraid around her. That she's going to be there no matter what. She told me she cares. Everything else she said mattered, but when she said that she cares... I needed to hear that. We don't hear it often enough.
I'm not perfect and I've come to terms with the fact that I never will be. I will strive to be my best, not the best. I want to be healthy, not skinny or fat... And to be honest, as J.K. Rowling said, "Is fat really the worse thing a human being can be? Is fat worse than vindictive, jealous, shallow, vain, boring, evil or cruel? Not to me."
A vendor that works with me came up to me not too long ago and said, "Hey Tubs! You're looking good!" The confused and probably hurt look on my face led him to explain that he had seen my old Facebook pictures and that he thought I had come a long way and was "looking good". He obviously doesn't know that looking good isn't as important as feeling good.
The pictures show my best friend and I from the end of eighth grade to the end of senior year. The first picture brought on the "Tubs" comment. You tell me, is Little Debbie happier with or without Ed?
8 Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.
~ 1 Peter 5:8
Delighted to see this writing and that you are getting to meet her! There are many things you brought to my mind. Keep writing Bella! Hugs!
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