They say, inside every fat girl is a thin girl waiting to get out.
Inside this fat girl is another fat girl.
A fat girl who lies, bruised and broken
because of the abuse hurled at her by people
trying to get the imaginary thin girl out.
Her, my, our,
abundant rolls and luscious thighs
defied them and mocked them
and oh the tantrum they threw.
"just kill yourself!" they'd cry.
But I refused.
Instead I chose to love myself, to adore myself
and every inch of imperfection of flesh.
To rally those around me to love themselves too.
It's how we choose-
to live, to work to play-
in these bodies so... round and large and offensive to you.
Because loving ourselves is better
better than what we had
better than what we were.
So don't tell me there's a thin girl inside of me.
I know what's inside of me.
And she's perfect just the way we are.