Fat Fridays: After receiving the most unique news, I went downhill into a ten-day binge of takeaways. I attended a huge event for a family member, and it meant I had to encounter the people who were the cause of a great deal of trauma in my life.
Indeed, you can NOT choose your family, and for me, I do NOT see them as family. I hate them, all of them. They cut my hair off as a child, and they then bullied and mocked me for having short hair. They called me fat and stupid. Seeing them triggered both a physical and mental response – I turned to food and ate.
I’ve spent just over £100 on junk food, some in the morning and most at night – in the comfort of my bedroom, right in the centre of my bed. I was gorging on fried rice, curry sauce and other unhealthy dishes. I mean, yes, I was menstruating, but hey, in the moment (the best part of four days), I did not care. I felt overwhelmed by the realisation of this massive achievement in my life. At the same time, I was forced to be in the same space as those who did me wrong throughout my childhood.
For more context, please read ‘The Story of Unique Fatso’ (post pinned at the top of my homepage).
I Apologise for the flow of this post being shaky and filled with thin edges that feel like they will soon shatter to pieces. I attended a family event to show support to a close family member – they too attended, the disgusting ‘aunt’ who I do NOT see, acknowledge or accept her title. A slew of her equally repulsive offspring. She sat a short distance from me; she is the type of person to show up with ‘The world revolves around me’ at the forefront of her mind. *Hanging on the coattails of others.
I posted a while ago about how traumatic she made my childhood. She offered to braid my hair (at the time, my afro was long and thick), chopped it off and then gaslit anyone who questioned it. I was raised to respect my elders, love my family, always share, and be kind. Looking back, I realise now how that practice can be detrimental to a child. Essentially, I was silenced.
Every time they belittled me, teased me, mocked my appearance and laughed at how short my hair was (because of what that crusty ass-b**ch had done to me), I was made to stay quiet and always be kind to them.
I will never forgive them.
I will never speak to them again.
Decades later, I am here, having a deep, emotionally charged response to seeing them. These are people who are supposed to protect me, care for me, and respect me. Instead, they violated my personal space, and they physically and emotionally abused me repeatedly. Yet, they flock to church and sing praise to their God, and they give thanks for life – while destroying lives.
I will never forgive them.
Some readers will say, ‘You should be over it’ and ‘That’s such a long time ago!’ No, you can’t tell me how to feel.
Today, I’ve eaten a healthy wrap for dinner and drank a tall glass of water, and I’m typing this post to share with everyone who can relate to having toxic people around their lives. People are the definition of rotten to the core, and those rotten cores breed darkness and promote the abuse of others.
Dear Absuser(s),
Your torrent of abuse in my childhood was horrific; may you feel the same energy. Your smokey breath, your weed-filled brain(s), and, lest we not forget, your flakey lying lips that churned out the most evil sentences designed to destroy me. Failed.
‘Still I rise!’ – Maya Angelou.
With love,
Unique Fatso
Unique Fatso 