There’s no one in this world who criticizes and hates on me as much as I do, no troll in the blogosphere that could be meaner, nastier, or ruder to me than I am to myself.
Why? What have I done to me? What heinous crime did I commit against myself to deserve such maliciousness? To tell you the truth, I really don’t know. It must have been awful, because there’s not another person in the world that I would say these things to with the level of venomous, unmitigated malice that I say them with to myself.
Should I blame the media? If all of their skinny models and airbrushed centerfolds are the source of my malcontent, why do I not despise everyone larger than a size 4? Why do I not feel the same loathing toward the chubby checkout girl at Target? Why did I just make the effort to be nice and say ‘chubby’ instead of ‘fat’ to spare the feelings of an imaginary person, when I call myself names that make ‘fat’ seem polite ? Continue reading
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