Why I'm skinny.
Stop asking me why I'm skinny.
I'm not normally one to get offended by questions. People have asked me hundreds of things, and I blanche at few of them. But not this one. This one I would like to go away.
Why? Out of all questions, why this one?
Because of all the questions, this one is never asked with the intent for it to be answered. It's always asked with a shake of the head, or a look of disgust/dismay/jealousy at whatever I'm eating. Why are you so skinny? And they walk away.
Had an answer been wanted, I'd be glad to answer. I'd tell tales of my father's side of the family, universally slim and with a tendency to lose weight when stressed. I'd tell of a childhood where salads often accompanied my meals or were the main course, and I was cajoled and bullied by my mother until I ate them. Over the years I learned to enjoy and crave them. I'd tell of my often dislike of exercise, but how much money I save biking to school and how often once I make myself do something enough times I start liking it. I wouldn't give advice, but simply tell them why I personally remain in the bottom ranks of the BMI scale. But no one wants that answer. They look at me, stare at my cupcake as though I wasn't allowed to have it because they themselves are dieting and insecure... ask me why, why is life so unfair, and leave me to feel very judged.
No. If you actually want to know why, come have a cupcake.
I'm not normally one to get offended by questions. People have asked me hundreds of things, and I blanche at few of them. But not this one. This one I would like to go away.
Why? Out of all questions, why this one?
Because of all the questions, this one is never asked with the intent for it to be answered. It's always asked with a shake of the head, or a look of disgust/dismay/jealousy at whatever I'm eating. Why are you so skinny? And they walk away.
Had an answer been wanted, I'd be glad to answer. I'd tell tales of my father's side of the family, universally slim and with a tendency to lose weight when stressed. I'd tell of a childhood where salads often accompanied my meals or were the main course, and I was cajoled and bullied by my mother until I ate them. Over the years I learned to enjoy and crave them. I'd tell of my often dislike of exercise, but how much money I save biking to school and how often once I make myself do something enough times I start liking it. I wouldn't give advice, but simply tell them why I personally remain in the bottom ranks of the BMI scale. But no one wants that answer. They look at me, stare at my cupcake as though I wasn't allowed to have it because they themselves are dieting and insecure... ask me why, why is life so unfair, and leave me to feel very judged.
No. If you actually want to know why, come have a cupcake.