Size 12
I'm that one girl in your class, the one that knows the answers, but would rather sit there quietly and not draw attention to myself. I'm that girl who's awkward and seemingly sweet. I'm that girl that draws up onto herself the moment the word 'fat' comes into play. Yeah, I'm that girl.
I'd been bigger. By 5th grade alone I was wearing a size 16. By 8th grade I had dropped a good deal of the weight, slimming down to a perfect size 12, but still yearning to be thinner. It really wasn't possible though; I have a large bone structure.
I had finally come to terms with my rounded stomach, my not-so-thin legs. I had even talked my mom into agreeing to let me get a belly button ring. That is, if I could win the battle of the bulge. So far, I'm still working on that. It's been going pretty well, too. That is, until Ginny had to give her speech.
She just had to give a speech on the history of the Barbie doll. Great topic coming from a tall, thin blonde that every guy in our class drooled over. I hadn't even payed attention to her, she was rambling on about why the creators made her and then it was over, or so I thought.
She passed around this red piece of paper with a magazine article attached. It had been laminated. She's just that perfect.
The article was about the original Barbie doll versus the more physically correct doll, based on the 'plus-size' model Emme. She's a size 12, about 5'6" with a large waist, much unlike that of Barbie. She was me with blonde hair, but since she was the average size, I was feeling pretty good. Maybe I could be a plus-size model, too! Well, not that I'd want to be, but still, it's possible.
Then I handed the article over to this guy. Can anyone guess the first thing he said? 'She's fat!' Go figure. I started to tear up on the spot. I didn't even dare mention that I was basically the same build and height as Emme.
Another girl didn't think that a size 2, such as Barbie, would be uncommon. 'Look at all the girls that are size 2's!'
The days before I had felt gorgeous, loved, adorable, even proud of myself. In less than a minute it was ruined. I couldn't remember the feelings of giddiness that had rushed through my head as the senior boy from my theatre class came by, kicking my shoe and grinning at me while trying not to let my teacher see. We had been out in the hallway looking at posters we had made that were too big for the classroom, and he just happened to be strolling to the bathroom across the hall from where we stood. That one great moment seemed so far away, but in reality, it had been the day before.
I'm not fat, or at least my friends kept telling me that at lunch, but all I wanted to do was scream at him. How could someone be so heartless?
It will be a cold day in hell before I forget what he said. A very cold day, but for now all I can do is keep my head up and be what I am.
Size 12.
I'm that one girl in your class, the one that knows the answers, but would rather sit there quietly and not draw attention to myself. I'm that girl who's awkward and seemingly sweet. I'm that girl that draws up onto herself the moment the word 'fat' comes into play. Yeah, I'm that girl.
I'd been bigger. By 5th grade alone I was wearing a size 16. By 8th grade I had dropped a good deal of the weight, slimming down to a perfect size 12, but still yearning to be thinner. It really wasn't possible though; I have a large bone structure.
I had finally come to terms with my rounded stomach, my not-so-thin legs. I had even talked my mom into agreeing to let me get a belly button ring. That is, if I could win the battle of the bulge. So far, I'm still working on that. It's been going pretty well, too. That is, until Ginny had to give her speech.
She just had to give a speech on the history of the Barbie doll. Great topic coming from a tall, thin blonde that every guy in our class drooled over. I hadn't even payed attention to her, she was rambling on about why the creators made her and then it was over, or so I thought.
She passed around this red piece of paper with a magazine article attached. It had been laminated. She's just that perfect.
The article was about the original Barbie doll versus the more physically correct doll, based on the 'plus-size' model Emme. She's a size 12, about 5'6" with a large waist, much unlike that of Barbie. She was me with blonde hair, but since she was the average size, I was feeling pretty good. Maybe I could be a plus-size model, too! Well, not that I'd want to be, but still, it's possible.
Then I handed the article over to this guy. Can anyone guess the first thing he said? 'She's fat!' Go figure. I started to tear up on the spot. I didn't even dare mention that I was basically the same build and height as Emme.
Another girl didn't think that a size 2, such as Barbie, would be uncommon. 'Look at all the girls that are size 2's!'
The days before I had felt gorgeous, loved, adorable, even proud of myself. In less than a minute it was ruined. I couldn't remember the feelings of giddiness that had rushed through my head as the senior boy from my theatre class came by, kicking my shoe and grinning at me while trying not to let my teacher see. We had been out in the hallway looking at posters we had made that were too big for the classroom, and he just happened to be strolling to the bathroom across the hall from where we stood. That one great moment seemed so far away, but in reality, it had been the day before.
I'm not fat, or at least my friends kept telling me that at lunch, but all I wanted to do was scream at him. How could someone be so heartless?
It will be a cold day in hell before I forget what he said. A very cold day, but for now all I can do is keep my head up and be what I am.
Size 12.