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I never thought that I would end up delivering my speech on this topic. In fact, it was far from my mind. I deliberated on talking about several topics, beginning from Harry Potter vs. Christianity to Pre-school children with behavioral problems. But nothing really appealed to me because I am not an expert on any of those topics. It would be dangerous for me to deliver a speech without truly having an expertise on any matter related to those. I know that I would be facing learned people, and you would right away know if what I'm saying is empty. So, I reflected for a long time about what am I an expert of and it came to me… I am an expert on "How to Deal". "How to deal with what" you might say. I am an expert on how to deal with my weight problem.
You heard me right; I would be talking about my weight. I am not blind… people. Everyday I wake up and see myself in the mirror. I see that the person right staring back at me does not have the vital statistics, 8-4-6. But I have gotten used to it. Or perhaps, I just accepted the fact that I would never win any "Body Beautiful" Contest.
I wasn't always fat, or horizontally challenged, to be politically correct. In fact, I used to have the vital statistics 8-4-6 and weigh a waify 110 lbs. But during my college years, I have gradually gained more than 50 pounds. I would not tell you the exact pounds because I might be revealing too much (wink! Wink!). I didn't notice it at first. Because I was with somebody who was naïve enough to see me as a person and not "see" me physically. Stupid boy! Who in his right mind does that any way? For him, I look good no matter how much I weigh. I only noticed that I wasn't a "Diosa" anymore when my ex and I broke up. Suddenly, reality came crashing to me. "What? I have gotten this big?" That was when my nightmare began.
I finally realized that I couldn't just jump to another relationship because nobody is asking me out. Then, I started to panic. No way am I going to spend my life as a spinster. So, I first thought about dieting. I mean, how hard could it be? But, 6 hours after my diet I gave up…it was too darn hard! So, I said, "to hell with diet" and thought that being "horizontally challenged" could not be all that bad.
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And so, I faced life head on with only breasts for padding and true enough, I was battered and beaten before I could really immerse myself into it. Some people are nasty when it comes to us; they think that since we weigh more than them, they have the right to say hurtful things to us. Perhaps, when they say it to other horizontally challenged people, they do not receive any response. But when I face people like that, they have another thing coming to them. I trade insult for an insult and mine hurts more. My manners and my catholic schooling go out the window when I hear spiteful things about my weight.
For example, there was this time a jeepney driver said "Taba!" and laughed obnoxiously together with his other driver friends. I stopped, sized him up from head to foot, and said "driver" with one eyebrow raised and spite in my voice. You should have seen the driver blush. No offense people, I have nothing against drivers but I have to him where it hurts. Another time, there were these girls who again made fun of my weight. I stopped again and went to where they were sitting. I approached them with my sweetest smile and asked if any of them had a mirror. With their mouths wide open they shook their heads then I rummaged through my bag and produced a pocket mirror. I gave it to one of them and told them to look at the mirror and I said, "gusto ko kasing Makita n'yo 'yong nakikita ko, limang kili-kili, nag sasalita, amazing…right?" and with that I left wearing the same sweet smile.
It was because of those incidents when I started to gain confidence. I thought that it really doesn't matter; everybody has his or her own defects. So, if somebody points mine out to me, I point to theirs as well. Then, I started to enjoy the life of the vertically challenged people. I still have my face, my charm and my wit. So, I should not fear. There's bound to be one guy who would love me even with my "excess baggage". And you know what, there's one…two…three guys who loved me, all of me.
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