I said “no” but he didn’t care.
For me I don’t know what came first. It was a vicious cycle. I hated myself, I hated my body, I hated my weakness, I was worthless, I was wrong, I was never heard. So, why try. The arguments and preventions for avoiding obesity and comorbidities like cancer diabetes or heart disease didn’t apply to me… I didn’t know if I’d survive the year, so a 20 or 30 year prevention plan was not a selling point. Being suicidal and fighting.. hiding your pain from yourself and your loved ones can be as “loud” as smiling at the overwhelmed barista making you a little cup of “pick me up juice” on an especially hard day. It’s in the moments of obsessing and being lost planning what dreams and change could bring into your world. I don’t constantly eat, though that’s what society would like to believe. I am strikingly malnourished most days, and clinging to the convenience of empty calories as a method for survival. Would you believe me if I told you roasted squash is one of my favorite foods? I don’t even like meat. I hate soda pop…. But the ideal is I’m obese so I screwed up and fill my body with poison. Funny enough at this moment I feel like I survived. I am recovering from heartache so deep I don’t know how to express it. As a teen I lost my choice to become a woman. As a fresh adult I lost my innocence after the violent loss and murder of a close friend. I put my value and worth in the hands of people who didn’t know the real me, and who were equally as lost and insecure as I was. I found myself for a blink and I’d be lost all over again. Physically, mentally, spiritually broken. I slipped on ice and my back was pulled in two just like my own perception. After all this time of struggling and fighting I was told “you’re a woman. You don’t understand pain” by a professional. It took years to regain trust in “professionals”. Near paralysis of my lower extremities after 9 months of severe chronic pain… sure I don’t “understand pain” being gaslighted into permanent bodily harm by a doctor facing his own midlife crisis. Being told I was obese and that is why I could not really be in pain… but did he ever think that BECAUSE I’m obese I am more aware of the pain? I’m in constant pain.. regret.. shame… hate. Body positivity is great if you can be proud of the steps you took to be where you are, but I allowed myself to be walked on trashed on and spat on until I became as worthless as I always saw myself.
Sex taken without permission. Given to regain something lost. Wasted to numb the lack of living.. dismissing the reality I lived in and the truth I closed myself to.
The pain goes back to one sentence. Not from the man who stole from me my ability to have a voice, but a friend “No one will believe you if you tell. It’s his word against yours. Just move on.”
So I have. I was raped. I have grieved tragedy. I’ve been broken. I have lived in pain. I have healed but I am imperfect. I am obese, and the ability to enact change seems more possible now… though I have survived it all… eating and taking care of myself is the hardest part of my day. Somewhere along the way even though I said “no” I stopped caring too.