Hey there, awesome readers!!
I've got a little surprise for you today!
Hi, I'm Cassaundra Keaton. You might know me from the pages of Fat Chance, where I got to tell the personal story of my journey as a woman (and I met a hottie, too). If you've read it, then you know a lot about me already. But if you haven't read it, let me tell you just a little about myself.
Growing up, my mother and grandparents slowly died away, leaving my father to raise me alone. He struggled a lot with the loss of my mother, and I think it made it hard for him to relate to me as his child. I'm pretty sure I was just a reminder of her for the longest time.
He used to make little "innocent" comments to me about my body, about my weight, my figure, or my love of certain junk foods and candies. I know he didn't mean any of it to be a bad thing, and I know now that he was just trying to reach out to me in the only way he felt he could.
But it left me HURTING.
Eventually he died too, and I was left with no one. No family, nothing. From there, I grew up in the foster system, passed from home to home and family to family. Some were nice and some were not so nice. But the onset of puberty and the effects of emotional eating and grief took a toll on me. Puberty is always an emotional time, but when you combine those hard years with the loneliness of grief, you have a very broken person.
And I was BROKEN.
But you know, broken people are so obvious, even when they don't mean to be. Emotional pain is just something that we wear on the outside of who we are, whether we advertise it or not. Still, having it out there means that others can see it, and it means that bullies can use it.
Our personal pain becomes the perfect ammunition.
I got bullied a lot when I was younger, especially once I entered the foster system, and that followed me into my adult life. I wasted years of my life worried about my body, hating my body.
The funny thing is, I didn't do anything wrong. I wasn't a bad person. I wasn't mean, I wasn't hateful. I wasn't even ugly. But I felt like I was wrong. I felt inferior. I was overweight, and it was something I could never hide from. It didn't help that I had people in my life pointing it out to me, either, using it as a weapon against me.
Isn't that sad? I let other people use my own body as a weapon against me? I allowed people to bully me because I believe what they were saying. I allowed them to treat me so terribly because of my body that I eventually forgot how great I can be as a person.
But I'm not a victim, not anymore, and I don't want anyone else to be a victim either.