Don't make me hate my body

I could do without a lot of extra kilograms attached to my body mass. I could do with a flat stomach, slim thighs, toned arms and smack-able ass that would easily fit into a size six dress, not the double of it. I am constantly exposed to wafer thin models, needless to mention media feeding me with more images of what I am supposed to be. People want me to be slimmer. I want to be slimmer but I am not. I know what I am supposed to be but I am not. I live with it.

I could blame my genetic structure for the shape I am and I will. I will blame my laziness, my low metabolic rate and my fondness for food. It's a disaster relationship, really. I will blame my lack of time to do any form of real exercise. Exercise to me right now means the free time I have which I utilize well to shake my left leg and reblog countless photos and things of my interest on Tumblr. I will blame my need for a glass of coke, or sprite and my sweet tooth for not being able to resist desserts. I have lived with my body. I know of all the things that made the contours of my body and the flaws, the same things also  made what I can flaunt proudly. 

I don't stroll around with the fittest of all bodies, I never have. I don't need to hear it from anyone to affirm anything; for the love of food, I sleep and wake up in my body and I am relentlessly in touch with it. I know of all the things I can do, or stop doing, to get myself into a size six dress. I am not a weight-joke prude. I don't care if you crack two jokes in a row about my weight but crack three, and I would want to break your bones. I will break your bones. I am the way I am. I try to be who I am supposed to be, but I find it incredibly difficult and to be really honest, I don't really give a damn about my sizeable ass. If I can't fit into a size 28 Levi's, so be it, there are bigger sizes and a reason why they are made -- not everyone has a svelte body. 

Don't make me hate my body with your unfiltered thoughts because you don't  know my body or me. Don't make me hate my body with your hurting speeches because all your words are mentally damaging my self-esteem. I know I shouldn't crumble, but I am a big human with bigger feelings, and I can be sensitive. I want you to know I love every parts of me, even the not-so flattering sides. You act like as if my body is yours to show off. You forgot it's mine and all mine. I am not your piece of Art and if I were looking for criticism, I would ask my mirror or the man I let see me naked. Don't make me hate my body. I don't owe to you to make it perfect for you. 

The girl known for what she does and not what she looks like, 

Genisha