This is the tale of my big, fat, boring life... The constant struggle with people who say hurtful things that make me feel I am not really worth anything... and I wish I could just bite them... but then again they could be a little too stale for my taste... so I wrote this blog instead... to share my grievances...
I
realize I may be a little odd... Like who writes a blog post talking
about biting people because they made fun of you... but not doing it
NOT because people shouldn't go around biting other people... but
because they may be stale... like their jokes... My jokes too are
stale.. but I try not to overthink that too much...
Growing up, I was the kid in school... that was slightly "different"... who enjoyed books more than boys... wasn't into the latest boybands, which was the thing in the 90s... as I was more into the oldies my mom introduced me too...
"You have to listen to this... it's really good"... was all she had to say...
And listen I did, being the dutiful daughter I am, and I'm saying this "dutiful daughter" thing not only with a grain of salt... or a pinch... it's more like the whole bottle of salt...
But then as it tends to happen, I find that my mom is always right, and not only did I enjoy the oldies then, but now, years later, I still do...
My mom was also the one who got me interested in books... Introducing me to authors like Georgette Heyer and her Regency tales filled with humor and swashbuckling fun...
And Jack Higgins, whose books, are as manly a book as you can get, with tales of espionage and intrigue, with the magnetic Sean Dillon, former gun-for-hire IRA assassin, now gone good and an agent for the government...
Probably why I've always been the woman who enjoys action movies more than rom-coms.
Especially action tales of guys being all macho and protecting those they love...
I don't condone violence at all... but when a guy crushes
another guy's hand because that guy hurt the woman he loves... Is it wrong if I find that sexy?
What can I say.... I like protective men.... who look after you... And make you feel safe...
I like men who look after women... Especially those in abusive relationships.... Making sure they're safe from being harmed by those who are supposed to love and protect them....
Ok maybe we shouldn't hurt people... but still... And I shouldn't enjoy this but that guy is just getting back what he did to that poor woman...
But then again... I don't support guys who make a habit of punching out guys for no reason...
Like it must be a really strong reason...
Like a peaceful, smiling, waving Superman who growls when in protective mode...
I am a very weird person, aren't I?
I want Superman...
Sorry.... Went out of topic...
Anyway while my friends were reading Sweet Valley High, I was reading Jack Higgins and Georgette Heyer...
If there is a sure way how not to relate with your peers at school... is to be into stuff that none of them have heard of...
That being said, I'm still grateful to my mom not only for everything in my life... but also for introducing me to books... and the music and films of her era... things she watched and listened to as a kid.
Grateful for all the song and dance from the musicals she introduced me too...
For Scarlet Pimpernel and his outward vapid, airy ways, but hiding such courage and intelligence within... The those days version of Clark Kent/Superman...
For the haunting cries of “Champ... Champ” that traumatized me, leaving me a sobbing mess at the end of the movie... And watching it now years later, I realize I can still get all choked up...
Trying not to judge but I don't get moms who abandon their kids... I wonder if the mother would have wanted the kid back if he was annoying and not cute...
Feeling like an outsider or that I did not belong, was already bad enough... but being overweight made it worst... with the constant mean things people have and still say to me...
Making me feel worse than I already felt about myself... The taunts that people toss at me nonchalantly... The worry of receiving a cutting remark every time I eat in front of others... The casual fat jokes...
The hardest thing in life is growing up as a fat kid... Even harder to be a fat adult.
It got to the point, that I sometimes didn't want to leave the house and go anywhere... worried about what people were going to say to me...
That being said, I realize I should be grateful... that even if things people said hurt... I do have a supportive family and a happy life... even a happy childhood...
And thankful that I didn't need friends to play with growing up... That I had my books to keep me company...
Books that still keep me company now as an adult...
My colleagues excitedly wait for make-up and glamour tools to arrive in their mail... I wait for books... No better scent than the fresh pages of a new book...
So I'm grateful for my love of books... because I know a happy childhood isn't always a given when you grow up different from the norm...
Recently while coming home from work, I saw a kid... slightly overweight... standing at his bicycle... gazing sadly at a bunch of kids playing soccer or football as it's called here in Malaysia...
The kids were happy and having fun... while this overweight kid watched them sadly from a distance away... I continued to watch him... getting all emotional... watching him leave after a while with his bicycle...
I thought of the kid the whole night... getting emotional a little as I told the story to my colleagues the next day.. I couldn't stop thinking about the kid... I felt his longing... The need to belong... or to be accepted... The pain of rejection...
Feelings I still get
now as an adult... But as a kid, the feelings are just more
intense...
I'm not saying those kids rejected him... Maybe he was too shy to approach them as I would have at that age... The fear of rejection or being made fun of... Or maybe he has tried to play with them before and they didn't let him... excluded because of his weight...
I don't know the reasons... All I know is I felt for the boy... Felt his loneliness... Wished I could have given him a hug... Or that I had a kid of my own, that I could encourage to go befriend this kid... All I could do was pray that he finds a friend soon to keep him company... or gets accepted into that group of kids...
Sometimes I wonder why is it so hard to be accepted when you just don't conform to the norm... Why can't people accept everyone no matter how they look... or how much they weigh...
"Be Happy with the Way You Are".... "Love Yourself".... "Beauty is Skin Deep"...
Words meant to motivate and inspire... and make you feel good about yourself... I too say them to people all the time and mean it...
But on the days when I'm feeling really down... I wonder if these words were written by beautiful people... because who else would say be happy with your looks but someone who does have good looks...
Especially on the days I think I look like a Sasquatch... Or made to feel I look like one... when you feel like you're not worth anything... I wish I could have someone say to me, "You're perfect in your imperfections... To me, you're perfectly imperfect"...
Then I realize it's stupid... So I wake myself up...
I turn heads too when I walk by people... Not turn the head round like you see in the movie Exorcist, which I watched as a kid... that may or may not have scarred me for life...
But when I walk past people... they do give me the same look of fear I had watching the Exorcist...
Cause people think of my butt as a weapon that can send people flying... Weapon of Mass Propulsion...
So they make room for me to pass... to prevent me knocking them out cold if I were to accidentally bump into them...
Look... Oh ye of so much fear... My butt isn't that strong... This isn't going to happen to you... I'm not going to knock you out... or propel you across the room...
So walk by me, with no fear, my hearties...
Although... There was this one time... I was bending down to take food from the fridge (which is where my head could be found, on most days), and my butt accidentally knocked into my little cousin, and he went flying across the room...
Nothing happened to him... He was ok... It's me who's not ok with the constant re-telling of this tale... by my very helpful, life-of-the-party, mom...
Probably where the legend of my butt and its people propelling powers came about....
So anyway... Butt attacks aside...
Sometimes at moments when my life is a little more dreary than usual... When it's not a Michael Learns to Rock song... that is pleasant and heartwarming... but on the days that it's a heavy metal song that makes you want to scream...
When people call you names... and casually insult you... wondering why you're not laughing at their jokes, which they think is brilliant...
It's on those days, that I wish I was born beautiful...
The kind of beautiful where the air sizzles around you... Flowers bloom when you walk... Birds sing and fly around you, while they fetch you things....
When a Prince Superman falls in love with you...
Awwww... Tyler Hoechlin... My favorite Superman... In my mind... when you fly... even birds come to watch...
Who needs princes... when there's Tyler Hoechlin... or so it is to me...
Sorry Tyler, who has the misfortune of being my first and only celebrity crush.... actually my first crush ever...
I was fine not having a crush on anyone... Happy with my life, books, movies and songs... but then one day.... Tyler Hoechlin moved into my mind... just like that... and he hasn't moved out since... Now I'm stuck with him in my head...
So anyway... I'm pretty sure things are going to get worse for you, Tyler... so I apologize to you in advance... for all the embarrassing things I may write about you in this post and future posts...
No No... My apology is sincere, Tyler... I'm always sincere in my apologies...
Although I do have a problem saying a proper apology in person, face-to-face... I mean I feel sorry but can't say the words...
Maybe cause I'm like an awkward person... I feel more comfortable with text... Putting words down works for me... So I sometimes write my apologies...
That makes me a horrible person, doesn't it?
So anyway Tyler... I'm sorry for the misfortune of being my crush...
Actually looking at the things that go on in my head sometimes... that I may or may not write about here on this blog of mine... perhaps I should also apologize to your parents... and your future spouse...
My future spouse too, I guess... if I ever do fall in love which is probably never happening in the near future cause I'm still stuck at the “boys are made of frogs and snails, and puppy-dogs' tails” stage...
Although to be honest, growing up, I did love to EAT everything made with “sugar and spice and everything nice”...
