I still remember the first time my father called me “fat.”
I was 9 years old. He and I were standing in the driveway of our home in Meridian, Miss. In just a couple of months, we would move yet again — to Anniston, Ala., this time.
He poked his finger into my little chest as we stood there. I don’t remember his exact words, but I remember being very confused at his anger. Nobody had ever said a word about my weight before. I seemed to be about the same proportions as all my friends, although I was slightly taller and was built bigger than they were. But my father angrily told me I had to start running — so I wouldn’t be fat.
I felt very ashamed of myself.
Not only did this mean I must look terribly ugly to everybody, but I had obviously disappointed my father. More than anything else, I wanted his approval — and I couldn’t ever seem to do enough. Or be enough.
Would you secretly kill someone to get what you want the most?
FRIDAY FUNNIES
Your words of kindness can show love to strangers struggling in life
Epiphany: Was it so bad that I used to work toward perfection?
I feel hope for future, because truth is real and love is possible
Arrogance and stupidity go hand in hand for the coercive state
What happens if a vampire bites your neck? Vampire mythology tells us the victim can become a vampire, too.
Market failure? Why do we have so many overeducated people?
Why are we uncomfortable when other people aren’t much like us?
What kind of hypocrite gives advice but won’t practice what he preaches?