Gordita/Fatty: Part II
Written by Short Latina
It wasn’t much longer when Ana could no longer fit into her jeans. Each year an inch more around her waist. Being a fat girl at school wasn’t easy, but Ana knew a trick. Find someone fatter and make fun of them. She was bullied and bullied others. Her hate for her body more easily expressed by hating others. Her anger continued to grow like an extra limb. It is very possible that the anger was what was tipping the scale and not the extra fat she wanted to desperately destroy. She routinely began looking at her body in the mirror and examine its many flaws. She often imagined getting a scalpel and making a small opening where her stretch mark met her flesh and squeezing the fat out. If she did small incision she could drain enough fat and maybe lose weight. Without any equipment or knowledge of how to carry such dangerous procedures, Ana did the second best thing, picking at her skin. Every possible imperfection was brutally squeezed from her body until blood was drawn. Scars and scabs ran through her arms, back, and belly. When there was nothing to pick, Ana picked at her scalp. Scratching it, picking at the many old scabs and making it bleed over again. For years, Ana hid her routine, inspecting her body after a shower, looking at the mirror and witnessing what she could not change. Without control over her body, she daily picked and bleed all throughout her teenage years.
She often hid in her room listening to the rebellion of Mana, “Me Vale Todo” became her anthem and her obsession to wear over sized hoodies was driving her mother insane. It was all to hide her scars, her unwanted fat rolls and all the emotions a teen could house. Her mother’s comments did not seize either and made matters worse. “Lose weight before you turn 21 or it will be impossible,” “You would be so much pretty if you were skinnier,” “Why don't you work out?” “Your boobs are so small, they would seem bigger if your belly was smaller.” Ana was going through puberty and her love for boys was intense, but let’s be realistic, no boy would ever love her with that body. These were the thoughts stuck in her head, replaying constantly every time she set eyes on a boy she liked and even those she did not.
Starting college meant new beginnings. This was Ana’s opportunity to start fresh! Lose weight, find a boyfriend and be loved. All she had to do was muster enough courage to, one, wear shorts, two work out in front of people. Looking at the alien machines that might eat her alive in the gym, she decided to avoid the embarrassment and do what came natural, run. There was an indoor track at her new college and she ran. She experienced sweating induced by cardio and not anxiety for the first time. She was impressed by how long she could actually run and the freedom that she felt doing it. Her mother began noticing the workout clothes reeking from her bag and asked Ana about it, “qué es esto?” Why do you have so many dirty clothes?”
“Leave me alone,” was all Ana could respond after the shame of being found out. Was it really that terrible that her mother knew she didn’t love her body? That she actually wanted to lose weight?
It was all a big ruse, Ana had pretended to not have cared about what she wore, looked like or even thought of herself for years. Her mother somehow believed that a 18 year old woman did not want to date, or feel beautiful. “Que bonita cara tienes mija” her mother often commented on her pretty face. Ana knew her mother avoided discussing her actual body like it didn’t exists. Never knowing that Ana was in fact beautiful all around, her disgust for her body continued and the gym attendance seized.
One day, Ana’s mother became the encouragement she needed as a child. She must have received a visit from the holy ghost to have had the revelation that Ana needed a mother to cheer her on. Bad habit or not, Ana’s response was leave me alone to everything suggested. “Let's workout together so you can lose weight,” was like a stab to the heart and despite the good motherly intentions, Ana was not having it. How dare she?! Yet, the thoughts did not stop ruminating. “You don’t have a boyfriend because you are too fat.” It was like Ana’s mother was stuck in her head! They were none stop and were debilitating. Ana surrendered and began to work out. Her mother was allowed to come along, but Ana soon put her headphones in her ears and ignored any of her mother’s waves and attention seeking gestures. Ana was determined and began to run, do sit ups, push up on her knees (I refuse to call them girl push ups!) and stretch and even asked for help with the weight machines. It was no mystery that her eating habits had to change as well. Not knowing where to start, Ana cut candy logically. Her nights googling diets lead her to the conclusion that cutting bread was next, then having more vegetables. Wearing a bikini by summer seemed attainable for the first time ever in the herstory of life.
Losing 20 pounds had seemed impossible a year before, but now, Ana was really doing it! It was possible that she could find love, be happy and wear what she wanted. Slowly, as she tried on her own clothes, she began to grow confident, show her arms, legs and even her back. “Why are you losing weight? Are you trying to find a boy? Is there someone you are trying to impress?” are the comments that met Ana as she ate her green mix salad. Ana refrained from responding and rolled her eyes back into her head enough that she could see her own brain. She needed to move out. She needed to leave the house of venomous comments and poisonous food habits. Tortillas were always present at every meal, rice, beans and the pork was daily. There was no escaping Mexican cuisine that had clogged her grandfather’s arteries killing him from a heart attack.
Leaving home was the hardest and healthiest thing, Ana could have done for herself. She learned to cook, steam vegetables and had a workout routine of 4 days a week. Ana’s frustration was still present, that had not changed. She still looked at herself in the mirror with a slight dissatisfaction that was enough to keep her changing her clothes. No roll could be seen, no imperfection could be apparent. The picking had not stopped, just decreased. Despite being healthier, and slightly happier with her body, she still hated herself a little. Even 30 pounds lighter, happiness was not to be found. Ana had found a boyfriend who loved her and her body, but she was not satisfied.
Her weekly visits to her mother’s home were a constant trigger. “What will she say this time?” Ana thought. It was not 2 minutes after greeting her mother that a comment was shot, “You look too skinny, are you not eating? Eat,” Ana’s mother said as she placed a big plate of food in front of her. Her mother continued, “have you been sick, you are losing too much weight.” Ana’s habits had changed enough to bring shock to her entire family. She no longer devoured an entire plate to herself. She now ate half of her portion given, only had one tortilla and refused second. “Gasp!” Ana was insulting her family, and her boyfriend present did not understand Mexican eating culture. Her mother withdrew Ana’s plate with contempt and hurt. All her hard work was being rejected. Ana was changing and her habits were too unknown and misunderstood. There was no explaining Ana could do that would comfort a hurt mother. No food was wasted however, the rest of the family picked up the slack Ana had dropped and consumed her rejected second helping. Each visit, a comment was made, and each time after, Ana felt fatter, gorda and no longer part of the family. A distance kept being drawn between her and her family.
The arrival of her family from Cancun was approaching and her anxiety at an all time high. Breathing exercises were necessary to get her through one visit to her family home. Her aunt was waiting to see her after 10 years. We now know that Ana was known to be the gordita of the family and not knowing what to expect, Ana went to see them. “Dios mio! No estas tan gorda!” You are not that fat anymore, my God!. This was the first cry out of Ana’s aunt. It was clear that this would be a conversation. They sat for dinner, and Ana quickly refused big helping. Ana’s mother complained to Ana’s aunt, her sister, “ya no come! Esta muy flaca!” So skinny. “Esta bien, que no coma, necesita perder un poquito mas.” A little more?! Ana took this as a clear sign that she still had a way to go to be happy, to one day escape the comments, the namesake, the shame.
Now Ana was 29 years old. Ten more pounds she told her boyfriend, ten. “I’ll be happy with my body then.” The routine was the same. She stepped on the scale and recorded her weight to the last ounce. She looked at herself in the mirror each morning and examined the work she still had to do. Like a chisel to her body, she pinched the excess she hoped to eliminate. She still sucked in the air to get a glimpse of what could be as she did at 6 years old. One day, I’ll be happy she continued to recite in her head. She continued on her day, ate her meal planned lunch, dinner and worked out, drank a protein shake and ran. She ran and dripped of sweat, this was her sign that she had not wasted another day. She had done everything right. She was closer to her goal.
Each night, her boyfriend held on to her still existent belly and rubbed it. He wished it would never be gone. He loved her body as it was and admired it as Ana judged it daily.
On her 30th year alive. Ana woke up, and look at herself in the mirror and saw how much she had changed. It was her 30th assessment and she had failed it yearly. She looked at her same belly, her same flabby arms, her same double chin and with a content smile, for the very first time said, “fuck it.”
Art by Ana Luisa Follow her on Instagram @madebyaluna
