I love chicken wings. I do. I love them. My love for them is rivaled only by my constant desire for a chocolate milkshake. Or French fries. I love those too. And beer. Or, the “nectar of the gods”, as I call it.
BREAD. I forgot about bread. Jesus, do I love bread. Garlic bread, French bread, cheesy bread, I really don’t discriminate.
In high school, I had…ahem…athletic inclinations. I played basketball, worked out regularly, and kept the bread and milkshake consumption to a minimum. Cardio was my hobby.
Looking back, I see now that it was a sad time for me.
I stopped playing ball after I graduated. I got to college, and I discovered this beautiful invention called an “unlimited meal plan”.
Not too long after that, I discovered ANOTHER thing called the “freshman fifteen”. Which quickly turned into the freshman twenty. Before I knew it, all the pizza and beer had morphed into an extra 30 pounds.
Being 30 pounds overweight is a death sentence in my family. By all accounts, I should have hated myself. I should have started dieting immediately. I should have been ashamed.
But, to everyone’s dismay, I wasn’t ashamed. Not even a little bit. I actually love my 30 extra pounds. I love being curvy. I love looking in the mirror at my full hips and soft belly and my boobs that had FINALLY GROWN, HALLELUJAH.
My mother, however, had a cow. A whole herd of cows. She immediately wanted me to diet and drop those 30 pounds. Being overweight, to her, is a crime punishable by pointed looks and backwards comments about the growing size of my ass.
My mother, a wonderful woman, can be depressingly narrow-minded. She doesn’t realize that I still freaking LOVE beer. I STILL LOVE CHICKEN WINGS. And I love college.
If the worst thing that happens in college is that I have to go up a pants size, then I think my college career will be pretty successful.
Even though Mom thinks that gaining weight should make me unhappy about myself, I’m not letting it ruin my life. I’m young. I’m vibrant. And yes, my ass is substantially larger than it was when I graduated high school. But that’s just fine with me. And, despite what anyone says, it will continue to be.