SHAME ON YOU IF YOU SHAME MY BODY

“You are the most detestable thing in this whole bloody wide world.
I fucking despise you the most.”
These are the two sentences I have been shamelessly hurling at the sight of something irrevocably disgusting I encounter every fucking day. Every fucking time.
Oh, I apologize for not mentioning what this diabolic piece of shit is. Never mind. You would not want to know.
You would never want to know it because you are the bloodsucking reason I have been hating it. Because you, yes you have taught me to hate it like you teach a toddler that “A” comes before “B” and that Zero is less than one.
You have taught me really, really well, I must say. So well that I have been disabled of my capability of questioning the hatred I harbor and for all these years of hating the very thing that keeps me going, that constructs me, that comprises of me and that is simply me.
Yes, by twenty years, you have successfully accomplished the task of making me hate my own body. All of it.
Because every time I see my body I am reminded of the fact that you all do not see my body as I see it  because to all of you either the body has to be perfect and flawless as fractioned by the media or it has to be shamed for having “deformities” of imperfection.
At ground zero, it started with the “chubby cheeks” tricks you employed to irritate the hell out of me. No, I did not love it when random people came out of nowhere to pull my cheeks and cheeks were not just it. I was very young, too young to utter words of protest the second time because the first time when my second grade Math teacher had summoned me, pulled my cheeks and drew his hands down to my little fluffy belly and then inside my pants, he whispered into my ears “You are such a young girl, shush. You should never say anything”. I hated every inch of my skin that came in contact with his fingers. I hated my body for being soft and fluffy. Step one. Accomplished.
I wasn’t even a teenager, I wasn’t even obese in my sixth grade when my classmates had me rolling in the dust, crying in shame because my stomach kept bulging out no matter what I wore and because my thighs were larger than theirs. Do you think I never told my Mama and Papa about the atrocities that people around me unleashed upon me from time to time? Hell, of course I did, and I kept complaining till the day I realized that none of you make an exception in the thought. My parents were “perfect”. They had never imagined that their only child would be so fat that people at the parties would ask and they would wonder “How could this possibly turn out to be real?” What could be more disgraceful than your parents perpetually demeaning you because of your body? Step every day, accomplished.
Fat? Huh. That was not just it. I was voluptuous. My boyfriends had a good time rubbing their faces and hands against my bosom and groping my hips but my skin was dark enough to let my twelfth grade boyfriend dump my ass with the excuse that he preferred someone who looked like a glass of strawberry milkshake to someone who resembled a black cow. A thin waistline was perhaps more important than my knowledge of all the Led Zeppelin and the Red Hot Chili Peppers.
Workspace did not relieve me of all your body shaming either. My boss had disqualified me from an upcoming project because my body was not in shape for it? What is this body shape being equivalent to practical skills in a corporate world? When my knowledge and capabilities were being denied the opportunities because I was bulky, that is when I stopped despising my body.
I still would have hated my body but why should I? 
Enough of hating this body. Enough of shaming it.
Why the fuck do you care? How the hell has my body brought an ominous difference in your life?”
Nada.
Today I shall revert back to all your atrocities that you have been inflicting upon me by a declaration of acceptance of the body I hated all this while.
My dear body,
I do not detest, hate or despise you. And I apologize for doing so for all these years, my love. You have been my only growing constant. You have been holding me together since my “time immemorial”. You are the point B I always keep crawling back to, every night, every time. You contain the whole universe within yourself and yet struggle not to give out its secrets to ears lurking around to catch sounds of Gabriel’s horns. And the same you have the simplicity to decompose into the five elements and give the world back whatever it bestowed upon you. These layers of adipose tissues are not meant to be called “petty calories of a fat ass girl who doesn’t work out”. These are your layers of uninterrupted tolerance of bullshit, your resistance to the forces of mass criticism that penetrate the hardest layers of your skin and make you feel the chill to the bones as they feed on your carcasses. The stretch marks you have grown are not to be ashamed of. Honey, you are a tigress. Your waistline doesn’t matter when your confidence soars high. I have been foolish to hate you all this while because you all have diminished my spirit to a shell through which my vision filters through constant hatred towards nothing but myself.
I hereby declare that my body is my own. I shall never detest its massiveness while glancing into the mirror. I shall never stop myself from loving the body I am born into. 
I shall never stop my hands from picking up a bottle of butter berry milkshake instead of a can of diet soda. I shall never stop myself from that last puff of the cigarette, the last bit of the potato chips and the last spoon of the banana split just because I am prone to gaining weight quickly. My body, you are beautiful and beauty is not what your haters go on talking about and posing about. Beauty is what the light is to the stars and what it is not to the stars. I beg your pardon for hating you all the while but deep down, down near the gut, I loved you and if I had drained all my energy in hating you, I would not have been writing lyrics about you. I would not have been here or anywhere. I embrace you and shower all my affection on you because we have pulled it through and without you, I am all words.
And the next time a hater comes forth claiming that you are ugly, that you are a fat ass piece of shit, hater’s not going to hear anything else but “Shame on you if you shame my body”.

Tags: love, inspirational, hope, hate, wishful,