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So, I`m standing in a line at the post office, patiently waiting for my turn and minding my own business. Suddenly I hear a quarrel and the woman in front of me storms off angry as hell.

“Did you see that?!” the clearly surprised and offended bank employee asks me behind the counter.

“Ahm, actually… No. Not really.” I reply, hoping that she won`t drag me into her own personal drama because I already lost half an hour standing there. As it turned out – I was wrong.

“All I did was to congratulate her on her pregnancy! How in the hell should I know that she`s just obese?!” – the woman continued clearly upset.

Aaaaaaand that was it. I could, heavens know I could zip it, ignore it and do what I was supposed to and get the hell out of there. But no, for some reason, I decided to open my mouth and reveal to her my point of view.

“Well, for the sake of argument, let`s say that I congratulate you know for being blessed. How come you are obviously not, the only logical explanation is that you are fat. Now, tell me, would that be a compliment or would you spend the whole day nagging and cursing?”

There she is, looking at me, not sure should she punch me in the face, throw a stapler at my reasonably big head or argue with me too. Honestly, it looked like a scene from a spaghetti western. You could almost hear Good, Bad and the Ugly soundtrack.  And then she decided, wisely, if I may add, to just sigh and say:

“You people are all so unreasonable…”

I had a friend with the similar situation – some girl she hasn`t seen in years told her “Oh my God! You are pregnant!” At the time my friend was on some insanely hard diet, trying to chase away the extra pounds, tormented by hunger and those skinny jeans that look good only on the window shop dolls. She was hurt by those words. So hurt that she started crying in the middle of the club.

Then when about those nasty bladder infections? I don`t know about you but during it, my tummy has a life of its own – it grows in all directions. Before that event, it never occurred to me that someone may think that I got pregnant.

The thing is that I don`t think that that girl or the woman in the post office wanted to be mean. That was just plain stupid. Inconsiderate and dumb. And in the end, why in the world would someone else be bothered by the size of your stomach? Why would they even care? The answer is – maybe not intentionally, but they are still proud on their flat tummy. So damn proud that they will use every possible situation, not even thinking about, to show to the world that THEY are the proud owners of a nice flat belly area. And you are not.

Honestly? I dont mind to have it unless it really starts to mess with my clothes. You know the situation; you really want to go to work in that pair of pants but somehow they refuse to collaborate and let you in. I love to eat. I really truly enjoy every bite. And I have a love-hate relationship with my scale. Usually, I swear it, get angry and ignore the damn thing for weeks. Then, after the loud argument with my favorite pants, I humbly get back to the scale almost praying to find a revelation that I haven`t climbed for few more pounds. And almost every time the scale starts to laugh frantically and I march away from it.

But does it matter? No.

I’ve spent years in dieting, almost died in a gym, (well, it felt like it) and spent money on several magic potions. And yes, I lost few pounds, then started to eat again and after it, I was right at the start. I really hope that I won`t allow myself to turn myself into a whale one day, but after all those years I came to the conclusion that my quality of life and how much I enjoy in it is what is important.

Not the size, not the weight, and definitely not random strangers and their opinions.

And that should be the motto of all of us.

In my world, the only blessing I need is my personal happiness. And I do hope that it’s yours too.

Because we deserve it, 174.

 

 

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When he met her she seemed like the sweetest thing. So caring and loving, full of compassion and understanding for everyone, a little emotional, yes, but all in all a wonderful creature. They married and she was possibly the greatest wife ever.

And then the baby arrived.

The little bundle of joy made him incredibly happy. He couldn’t wait to get back home from work just to see his precious little girl.  But as the time passed it turned out that this was his primary role – to watch the baby. Literally. No picking up or such nonsense because according to his dear wife, he wasn’t doing it right, he could drop the baby, that was not the proper way to change the diapers, she said, turn off the TV because it’s bad for the little one, she hissed. And the things went on and on.

The first year passed, then the second. Mommy dearest turned into Momzilla. All that hissing and biting spread on other people. Almost all the people. She started writing long angry posts on the social networks about anything that she couldn’t stand and it was all connected to their little girl. She was angry at people on the street because they were talking too loud when she took her little one on a walk. She had a fight with every neighbor in their building because she suspected one is smoking in his flat, the second was cooking something she could smell, the other was listening the music the baby could hear, and the list could go on and on. Nobody could visit them in their apartment because they were all annoying and not good for their daughter. In the meanwhile, the little girl continued to grow and started to become, well, to put it simply, a spoiled brat. That kind of a child that must always be the center of the universe, that won’t allow any adult to actually say the whole sentence without her screaming, yelling or throwing things just to get attention. Because everyone all the time must be listening what she had to say. All must be listening to her. Like her mother does.

As the time passed, the husband started to become quieter. He was still adoring his little one but from a distance. Because this was the only way he was allowed. He was sad and as the years come by, ashamed. Because of his wife behavior. Because of that mean, harsh and vicious woman she has become. And afraid that his little one is starting to grow into the same type as her momma. So he tried to talk with his once lovely wife, but then he discovered the hell’s fury. Her family tried to put some sense into it, but she furiously chased them away. Their friends tried a gentle approach and she spilled all her wrath on them.

And finally, she became bitter. Because from her point of view people were horrible, selfish, they betrayed her,  and she was just trying to raise her child. Not realizing that she is the mother source for all that misery.

Love is grand. Love is beautiful. Love can exist in so many ways and transform into most incredible shapes. But only if we respect it. And the people who are giving it.

Because we all deserve it, 177. Momzilla

QueenThere was a time when she would wait for his call. The same call which would mean that He is on his way. His arrival was always something special: flowers in his hand, a nice dinner, lots of laughs, and pretty good sex. She loved the way he was looking at her with those deep brown eyes, always hiding a spark of something unsaid. He was polite, kind and thoughtful. And distant.

Yes, distant. At first, she was sure that it was just a result of physical distance. He lived in another city and they didn’t have the luxury of everyday things, like a simple afternoon stroll in the park. And she didn’t mind, not really, thinking that these are the perks of the long-distance relationship – every date and every weekend are special. But a year passed. Then another. Their third anniversary came so quickly that it surprised even her. But after four years, she found herself thinking. Will they ever be a normal couple?

She started noticing all those sometimes happy and sometimes miserable couples on the street. Especially the last ones. They were important because they had a privilege to get into a fight, to get bored with each other, to have to luxury of experiencing dirty socks tossed away on the bedroom floor. It made her restless. So she started to count – they were seeing each other twice a month, sometimes less, most of her nights were made of the lonely evenings in front of the TV and emptiness of her own bed, her friends were talking about their children or the quality of their dates… All in all, her list was sad. Empty. Like her.

They say that longing is a good thing only if it’s short. If it grows, it becomes a frustration. And that’s exactly how she felt, frustrated and disappointed. So next time when they met she started The Conversation. Trying to find out will they ever have a future in which they will occupy the same place and time. That time he didn’t answer. After two weeks, she tried again. And again. He was polite, but he always managed to avoid the answer. And then she had it. She got mad and asked him directly. And he finally gave her his stand – he felt that their thing was perfect. He didn’t have the need to make it “common”, as he underlined it.

She wasn’t shocked. Not even surprised. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. So she gave herself little time to think about how much is she afraid of loneliness. And it turned out that she wasn’t scared at all. How could she, after all, she was practically alone all those years. The decision was made, she called him and said what she had on her heart. Strangely, he was surprised. It turned out that it never occurred to him that she is not happy with their relationship. And they split. Oh, he called few times, he even came one evening holding roses in his hand, trying to convince her that their thing was special.

But she didn’t buy it. Actually, she felt deliberated. She realized that all those years she was carrying an anxious lump on her chest. That every evening in the front of her TV she was waiting for his call or even just a short text. Her time was her own. And it felt great. She felt great. Finally free. She wasn’t Miss Lonely Waiting, she became Liberty from the House of Solitude. The great large house where she was the ruler.

It’s been a year since the coronation. And she still feels the happiness of her independence in every second of every day. Maybe someday a prince will arrive. But then again, maybe it would be better if he didn’t. Her reign is strong and beautiful and now it would take a really special knight to fight for his place by her throne.

Because she deserves it, 175.