Fat - A Poem

South African poet and theatre-maker Genna Gardini reveals the terrible struggle that many of us face daily thanks to our society's view of being overweight in this hard-hitting poem.


Fat

You cannot be liked

You cannot be loved

You cannot have sex

You cannot have good sex

You cannot f**k the people you want – well,

You cannot really have wanted to f**k them, then

You cannot live a long life. I mean, that's a medical fact, so don't even start

You cannot pose nude for art

You cannot like clothes

You cannot be in these photos

You cannot get married. Sorry? Ok, so

You cannot want to get married because you’re trying to convince me it’s your choice instead of his – hey?

You cannot be gay. You're only saying that because you're sure no man would ever choose

You cannot have children because it's genetic

You cannot blame genetics because you're just lazy

You cannot have issues, that's such an easy excuse

You cannot enjoy food! I enjoy food, your friends enjoy food, Nigella enjoys food and we don't look like

You cannot get yelled at in the street. Alright, you can get yelled at in the street but it will always be about this and not

You cannot ask me to stop because I'm just joking and lighten up and see what I did there

You cannot tell me it's not my place to say so when it's your health I'm thinking of

You cannot think properly because there are too many layers blocking your brain

You cannot be so cushioned and say you are in pain

You cannot do anything but write because you only have to use your fingers for that, look at your cousin, she abseils

You cannot be good at Maths or you would know what you add up to on the scale of

You cannot get to heaven because how would you climb all those stairs -

You cannot believe in God because the rest of you is in the way, if there was less you'd believe in more

You cannot shop in this store

You cannot be told that you look beautiful without me muttering "for..."

You cannot go to Paris (it's in their VISA requirements)

You cannot survive in the Antarctic

You cannot survive in the Atlantic

You cannot survive me

You cannot achieve anything without them saying, "Good for her, but what a pity she"

You cannot touch yourself (how would you reach?)

You cannot let someone else touch you

You cannot let someone else not touch you

You cannot be telling the truth, why would he do that to you when he could have any other

You cannot fit into this skin I made for

You cannot wear that swimsuit because

You cannot cut your hair so short, what will distract them from

You cannot have a problem that is not caused by

You cannot understand that you'd be so much happier if you'd just lose

You cannot still be so unhappy now, after all that, maybe you just need to

You cannot talk about the things you thought you couldn't have and couldn't do like it was such a big deal you managed to work your way through (you are the big deal, literally), like it took you till now, from when you were only a kid to realise I was the weight you needed to be rid of.

Honestly,

You cannot be so sensitive when we all know that this isn't what I mean every time I call you

fat.

This poem originally appeared on FeministsSA.com.

SOURCE: iafrica.com