A cold bottle

Growing up fat is not fun. I blame it on the fact that I was still on the bottle at age eight. REALLY. For some reason we didn't drink fresh milk in the Philippines and drank this powdered version that tasted like a smoothie. I WAS HOOKED. I firmly believe that my notorious sweet tooth stems from this. In the motherland, all middle class families had maids and nannies. My favorite thing to do when I came home from school was to ask for a "dudu" = a bottle! I liked it ice cold, kinda like a Frappucino but without the ice. LOL! HAHAHAHA!

Speaking of school, my fat years were emotionally painful for me *sad violin music playing in the background.* Seriously though, children who do not have the proper training at home can be vile and cruel little boogers. I don't really remember being bullied or teased but I remember not feeling wanted or included. I was so painfully shy and hyper-aware of being fat that I would ask April (my sister who is one year younger than me) to buy my lunch/snacks at school so people wouldn't see me near food.

What did I learn from being ostracized? I learned to appreciate people's inner beauty and gravitated toward those who possessed it. I also learned to never call people names like "stupid, fat, retarded." I learned how to be kind and empathetic, especially for the underdog.

Then we moved to the US of A, lost our accents ("dugu"), and the baby fat. Turns out that the milk they drank here was fresh and did not taste like a smoothie so I no longer wanted the bottle and lo and behold people wanted to be my friend because I finally "looked cool." I remember thinking "Wow. People are so shallow." But, I liked the feeling of being accepted for once, so I totally played the part and milked it :)

A part of me wanted to get rid of my fat past but the lessons I learned, early on, have shaped me. Without them, I might not have been so introspective. Without them I might have grown up to be substance-less and shallow. Over the years, I have learned to not only accept this part of me, but to embrace it.

We all have baggage. The first step is to become aware of it, make sense of it, then embrace it.

*Cheers*