FAT.BRAIN

We all have scars. Mine is inside my brain.

I was born into this world as a perfect little baby. No labels. Blank cover. Clean slate. Then the conditioning started. 

My mother gave birth to me in the late 80's, at the age of 17. If you're younger than 30, you might not even understand the reason behind me mentioning the time frame. 

My first label - 'B*****d Child'. 

As a newborn baby you don't have much of a choice. You don't have a voice. Your only way of communication is through crying. You understand nothing. The hunger pains doesn't make sense. The sudden change of light from light to dark affects your mood, not that u have any idea what that is either. That tiny human being is a hundred percent reliable on someone else, which they also didn't choose. 

Existing in a new world, unaware of my newly given label, I started to grow. I was being conditioned each moment, whether by my circumstances or every living being that crossed my path. 

I remember my second label until this very moment. In fact, label number two changed who I was. It changed how I saw myself, my thought process and how I saw the world. You are fat! I was only six years old. 

It was my first day at primary school and I remember sitting with my younger brother on the swings. I was so shy. I wasn't used to other kids. I couldn't talk to them or even approach them. So I stuck with my little bro. He made me feel comfortable. He reminded me of my comfort zone at home... 

While we just sat there, observing our new environment, two older boys approached us. First we felt excitement with the thought of making new friends. The moment was short lived. One of the boys suddenly pointed at me and started singing with a load voice :"Fatty, fatty, fatty! You are a fatty!" Instantaneously every person on the playground look straight at me. I froze in complete awe. Then everyone joined in... "Fatty, fatty, fatty! You are a fatty!" 

The shame and embarrassment was just too much for my innocent little brain. I'm sure it short circuited, because after that few seconds, I was scarred for life. It's as if all the eyes that looked at me, rewired my brain! I instantly became FAT. After that day everything changed. My innocence was taken and I was now fully aware of my new label. For some or other reason, I believed every word they sang... This was now my truth. 

The past couple of months I've been trying to make new friends. It proved to be much harder than one might think. I've met a few people but every time I sabotage myself. Just as it looks like a promising relationship, things go south. It might be only in my head or I might actually have bonding issues. I just don't seem to get the hang of connecting with people.

I did have a hand full of friends in school. What happened to them, I ask myself. I blame the yucky puss that comes from the scars in my brain. No one wants to deal with that. People can deal with the good, but run from the bad.

After that day at primary school, I never told anyone. Not even my mother or grandmother (the only two people I had to trust and share things with). The singing voices lingered in my small little mind, trying to make sense or find a reason for the events. The only sense I settled for, was that they're right. I am fat and not good enough for society or even to have friends. No one wants to play with a broken or ugly toy. Not even me.

I started hating myself. Why was I so ugly? Why was I so fat?

Any person needs a support system and I had my family. They never judged me. They loved me just they way I am. Or so I thought.

A few days or weeks after the indecent, I had a little fight with my brother. Instead of fighting it out physically (like we used to), he started insulting me just like those little boys. I was so shocked, I couldn't even find one word to defend myself. In pain I ran to my room and cried. 

Much later my mom came around to ask what happened. Still in tears I told her everything and how I feel like a total misfit. Like any mother she comforted me and made it clear that I'm perfect in her eyes and that nothing else matters. Halfheartedly I accepted it. I felt better. 

But it was all a lie. 

After starting 'big' school, the abuse became a daily thing. Every single day, someone would call me fat or other nicknames insinuating that I'm fat. I was called 'vetkoek, marshmallow, giant elephant, whale or titanic". I didn't hate school though. My mind was hungry and I enjoyed learning new skills, but recess turned into my biggest nightmare!

After repeatedly coming from school crying, my mother tried to intervene. Now that I am a mother myself, I can understand the psychology behind what she did, but at that time, I broke even more. In my eyes she told me that I am fat and that I have to change. She could have sang that stupid song too, it would have made no difference. Between the lines, it meant the exact same thing.

I was eight years old when it happened. Another horrible day at school and another river cried. I was hiding out in my room, with puffy eyes and a broken soul. My mom called mi into the kitchen. Very eagerly she told me about this new chocolate she got me at the pharmacy. It wasn't just any chocolate, it was an appetite suppressant. Yes, my mom wanted me to loose weight. I gave her a very fake smile while thanking her. I went to my room and felt the last bit of myself die deep inside. 

No one loved me just like i was. Everyone had an "if". If you loose weight you'll be perfect.