Fat woman

Cuando era niña, mi abuela, mi madre, y algunos familiares, me llamaban de cariño “gorda” o “gordita”. Así aprendí a relacionar esta palabra de forma positiva. Tenía buena relación con la comida, y me encantaba. Los adultos cuando querían recompensarme, me daban comida, cuando me sentía triste, me preguntaban: ¿quieres comer?

Si estaba triste, feliz, aburrida...Incluso cuando no tenía hambre, aceptaba porque no quería que pensaran que no me gustaba.

Porque yo solo quería seguir haciéndole honor a los comentarios: “Ella es una niña que come muy bien, le gusta de todo”.

Sin embargo, una vez llego la adolescencia, ser “gordita” ya no estaba bien. Ya no usaban estas palabras de forma cariñosa, y constantemente escuchaba a personas comparar sus cuerpos con el mío, para sentirse mejor consigo mismas. A pesar de que nunca abrí una conversación sobre el cuerpo de nadie. Quisiera decir que no me afecto, porque al principio no lo hizo (Gorda= Laura siendo consentida por abuelita)… pero luego, inevitablemente, crearon una inseguridad en mí, que no tenía.

Ahora veo fotos de mi adolescencia, y entiendo que solo era una chica normal, con un peso normal. Incluso sano para su estatura.

En la adultez contraje como consecuencia, los famosos atracones. Que, básicamente tengo cada que intento restringirme la comida porque estoy gorda, y como me limito de comer, en momentos de debilidad me recompenso diciendo “estoy triste, o agotada, merezco comer” y me atraganto de todo lo que no comí durante la restricción, incluso más, de forma, simplemente exagerada. No siempre fue así, tuve un momento, digamos, estable, pero luego de la pandemia, todo se descontrolo. Y los comentarios fueron tantos, que en lugar de animarme a hacer un cambio positivo, solo me hacían sentir mal.

Porque entiendo cuándo por amor a alguien, le haces ver algo que no está bien. Por ejemplo, el sobrepeso, o la extrema delgadez. Sin embargo, nunca voy a entender, que se lo digas justo antes de comer, o al salir por lo ajustada u holgada que se ve la ropa.

Creo que esto solo nos hace un poco más miserables. Me he topado con estos comentarios en momentos completamente desatinados, y pienso: soy una mujer que estudia, trabaja, trata de mejorar cada día, se preocupa por sus seres querido, pero se me olvido que también tengo que adelgazar y verme “bonita”. Y entiendo que nunca llegaré a ser perfecta, y que si intentará perseguir ese estereotipo, solo podría terminar con un trastorno alimenticio.

El cambio siempre debe venir desde el amor. Y mi recomendación es que pongas límites a las personas que mencionan ese tipo de comentarios en momentos completamente desatinados. Porque, por lo general, no tienen intenciones de ayudarte, sino de hacerte sentir mal. O sentirse ellos un poco mejor con sus inseguridades, haciendo más grande las tuyas, y etc.

When I was a child, my grandmother, my mother, and some relatives affectionately called me “fat” or “chubby.” This is how I learned to relate this word in a positive way. I had a good relationship with food, and I loved it. When the adults wanted to reward me, they gave me food, when I felt sad, they asked me: do you want to eat?

If I was sad, happy, bored... Even when I wasn't hungry, I accepted because I didn't want them to think I didn't like it.

Because I just wanted to continue honoring the comments: “She is a girl who eats very well, she likes everything.”

However, once adolescence arrived, being “chubby” was no longer okay. They no longer used these words in an affectionate way, and I constantly heard people compare their bodies to mine, to feel better about themselves. Even though I never opened a conversation about anyone's body. I would like to say that it didn't affect me, because at first it didn't (Gorda = Laura being spoiled by grandma)... but then, inevitably, they created an insecurity in me that I didn't have.

Now I see photos of my adolescence, and I understand that she was just a normal girl, with a normal weight. Even healthy for her height.

In adulthood I contracted the famous binge eating as a consequence. That, basically I have every time I try to restrict food because I'm fat, and since I limit myself from eating, in moments of weakness I reward myself by saying "I'm sad, or exhausted, I deserve to eat" and I choke on everything I didn't eat during the restriction , even more so, in a way that is simply exaggerated. It wasn't always like this, I had a moment, let's say, stable, but after the pandemic, everything got out of control. And the comments were so many that instead of encouraging me to make a positive change, they only made me feel bad.

Because I understand when, out of love for someone, you make them see something that is not right. For example, being overweight, or extremely thin. However, I will never understand that you tell them just before eating, or when going out because of how tight or baggy their clothes look.

I think this just makes us a little more miserable. I have come across these comments at completely inappropriate times, and I think: I am a woman who studies, works, tries to improve every day, worries about her loved ones, but I forget that I also have to lose weight and look “pretty.” And I understand that I will never be perfect, and that if you try to chase that stereotype, you might just end up with an eating disorder.

Change must always come from love. And my recommendation is that you set limits on people who mention these types of comments at completely inappropriate times. Because, generally, they do not have the intention of helping you, but rather of making you feel bad. Or them feeling a little better with their insecurities, making yours bigger, and etc.