I don’t know how to say this without hurting anyone’s feelings.
It’s weird to be the fat kid that thin kids want to know/befriend. My thirteen year old self is in a permanent state of confusion. Although, let’s be real- she’s not all that confused. After all, she survived middle school. So she understands that kids frequently want to be close to/with whatever is popular. Doesn’t mean it’s not strange. When you’ve spent the vast majority of your life as the butt of someone else’s joke and all of a sudden the people who have always had jokes are trying to be BFF....well, shit’s mad awkward.
And sometimes I think they’re hoping for some kinda penance or charity award. Some kinda “I befriended a fat kid” award. It’s not forthcoming. Because I’m still the fat kid they’ve been taught to disdain and mock. I will never forget the snide comments and the pitying glances. The wounds are too deep.
Well, that’s not entirely true. I do think yoga will help me find compassion. It already has, truth be told. But don’t get it twisted- even within yourself, Stanley. Compassion doesn’t equate forgetfulness. And thirteen year old Jessamyn can’t forget. She will always remember.
C’mon, Jessamyn- Maybe you’re projecting emotional baggage on unrelated shit in the present. Maybe things aren’t the way they seem. Yeah, definitely maybe. Wouldn’t be the first time you let your emotions get the best of you. But, out of respect for baby Jessamyn, a bitch must at least pose the question.
Let this serve as a reminder, Stanley- hoes being down with the vision after you’ve tilled the soil don’t mean shit. Remember when you started tilling and you were all by your lonesome? Ain’t shit changed. You still walk alone, without a map. Don’t let the glitter distract you.
Photo by @shana__banana
Creative Direction by @lisa_lisa_creative
Hair by @vivicaccoxx