I Felt Fat, Ugly, & Unwanted

I grew up believing I was fat & that fat equals ugly & that ugly equals little to no value in the eyes of those around me.

Looking back on photos, I realize I wasn’t at all fat… I just wasn’t skinny or athletic… but that doesn’t change how I perceived myself back then.

Now, I would like to tell you that I immediately turned it over to God to trust that my value was in the fact that He made me & He saved me from myself, through Jesus… but, as I mentioned last week, I was still beginning to understand the fact that God is very present & wants to help with things like this.

So, I thought it was up to me to figure it out. And I thus sought to compensate for my very real feeling of LACK.

I Didn’t Fit In… I Mean I REALLY Didn’t Fit In

So, I worked out my own plan to help others overlook my so obvious slew of personal flaws with my weight, my clueless style taste, my never understanding jokes, my growing-up-homeschooled-as-a-kid (if you know, you know–when I was a kid, co-ops & other group sports & activities weren’t so established yet for the homeschool community as they are now), etc. aka I did NOT fit in.

I studied, by observation, what got the attention of my peers. What made them laugh, what they talked about, what they gossiped about. What they liked, what they made fun of, what they hated. I became a student of my peers, desperate to find a way to be of some value & find a way to fit in somewhere, to have friends, to belong, to be liked.

“Technically Not Sin…”?

Satan really fooled me on this one, just as he did with Eve all that time ago. (Genesis 3) He handed me an idea & I eagerly snatched it from his hand as the solution to my big problem. “As long as I don’t ‘technically’ sin, (aka sex-outside-of-marriage), then I’m sure it’s fine.”

By the way, in case you have convinced yourself otherwise (like I did), it’s NEVER a good idea to try to walk the fine line between direct disobedience & “technically” not sin. You’re certainly not fooling God & it never ends well.

But that is surely what I did. I became crass & crude, working for the shock factor. I dressed for attention. I trained myself in becoming appealing to others–to be likeable, easy-going, & have an air of confidence–all with innuendos & crude jokes.

The problem? Those others didn’t really even like ME. They liked the me I projected to them, didn’t they? Only a few actually knew the real me.

It became an act I couldn’t put down without risk of being found out as “just another fat, ugly loser” (again, how I perceived others would see me). That was my very real perception of the matter then & I was desperate not to be labeled in that way.

Why Words Matter

I am not proud of the me I was in that time in my life, but I can sympathize with her because I knew how scared I was to be alone in the world.

The pressure is very real. You overhear rude comments about others, see people criticized for every mistake or flaw on social media post comments, are told rude things by people you love… & it all feels like you better measure up or you’re worthless in this world.

Especially in middle school, high school & even college years. Words matter, people! How we talk about & talk to people matters.

Something Felt Off

I watched my peers carefully for, (no, I STUDIED) every chuckle, burst of laughter, knowing smile, reciprocated flirtations, shocked face, look of approval, etc. I was learning how to be what everyone seemed to want from me.

And I felt power in that… like a puppeteer who could spin a word or phrase into something inappropriate at the tip of a hat & watch as her audience responded favorably, internally smiling at the success.

I thought I had it all figured out. I was worth something. I was wanted.

But something felt off. Like a glitch that would jolt the success to less-than-satisfying, before I would shove that feeling down & remind myself that this is what I wanted.

But was it?

If this is what I wanted so badly, why did it feel kind of ick sometimes? What was I missing?

I Thought I Had It Made

Boys flirted with me every day & hit on me, like I was worth being hit on.

Everyone laughed at my crude crassness & my twisting of everything inappropriately to get the desired shock factor. People liked it.

I felt in control instead of a loser.

I felt desirable instead of fat.

I felt wanted.

So, why did something feel off?

FINALLY, I Wondered If God Could Help Me… But I Was Too Afraid to Really Ask

I started to finally pray about it & ask God His opinion… but I was so disillusioned that I wanted to believe my actions were far from sinful because I “wasn’t actually, technically doing anything wrong.” But every time I prayed, that disillusionment would slip a little & I would feel guilt & shame take its place. I didn’t like that.

That didn’t feel good. I mean, I wasn’t TRYING to be sinful, I just wanted to be wanted & liked so badly. I wasn’t trying to dishonor or displease God or anything.

Then it became too scary to pray. I didn’t like my successful measures being put into question. I was finally happy! I was finally wanted!

Or… was I…?

My Disillusionment Was Slipping

This went on for at least a couple years, surprisingly, even following my depression-shattering experience. (Read about that in Chapter 3.) I really was fooled. And I really was foolish.

But the pang seemed to only get stronger as time went on. My stuffing it down became less successful. Something felt off about all of it & I didn’t want to let go.

I didn’t want to be the fat, ugly loser that nobody wanted. That seriously felt like my one alternative & I was NOT interested in going back to feeling that way.

But that pang became an ache inside my heart. I somehow felt used even though I was initiating the inappropriate comments.

I felt gross.

And as time went on, God helped me realize why… something He had tried to wake me up to many times prior: “What they love is not you… it’s who you pretend to be for them to like you…. That’s not real love. It’s all fake. It’s all a show.”

That hurt. It cut me deep. And it scared me. I didn’t want to be alone.

My Way Didn’t Actually Work… It Just Left Me Feeling Empty

All of it was for nothing, because deep down, I still felt like the fat, ugly loser I believed I truly was under the façade I had so carefully crafted for the world to see…. And if that façade were to slip for a single moment, or if I didn’t feel I had the desire to keep it up for even a day, I knew all of that would come crashing down & mean nothing because they would all see the truth.

It was exhausting, quite honestly. It had become my prison.

My desperate need to be wanted & accepted had caused my compromise that didn’t actually even fix or solve my problem.

So, timidly, I began to pray… SCARED.

I Was So Scared to Pray… That God Would Convince Me to Stop & That I Would Lose Everyone

I was terrified that praying to this end might mean the loss of everyone who supported me or cared about me… that they would see how boring & uninteresting & ugly I really was & that would be it… it would be confirmed as they all turned their backs on me & forgot I existed.

I was terrified of that!

But, I needed out of this prison somehow, so I figured that if anyone knew who I was meant to be, it would be the One Who made me—GOD.

So, timidly, I began to pray to that end, as scared as I was of the result.

My Prayers Went Something Like This:

“God, to be honest, I am scared to ask for Your opinion & help in this. I’m afraid that You will confirm what my heart suspects, that even though I am not “technically sinning” as I have determined, I am still dishonoring You with my actions. I’m afraid that it would mean I have to stop & that friends won’t want to be friends… that they’ll all gradually fall away because I won’t be interesting or fun anymore. I’m afraid they won’t want me as just a fat girl with nothing else to offer. I don’t know who I am anymore without this. This has been my life for YEARS. How can I just change? I won’t feel ME anymore & that terrifies me. What if there is nothing left if You take this away from me? What if I lose my value? What if I am alone? But God, something in me feels ick & I can’t shake it anymore. Something feels off. I feel trapped by this image I have created for myself. I don’t like that either. I don’t know what to do anymore. So, please, God… if ANYONE knows who I am… it would be You… because You made me. So help me to see who YOU made me to be. Even if I lose everyone I care about, I want to see me in Your eyes, how You intended… not my determining anymore. Your way. In Jesus’ name, AMEN.”

God Began to Shift My Heart & Make It New

I prayed something similar to that for MONTHS… & little by little, those quick retorts & innuendos just sort of faded away. I lost the desire to play along or try to play a part to be liked. It just didn’t seem to matter so much to me anymore.

I started to realize that I was going to be just fine. This confidence started to bubble up in me that I had never experienced before… like I didn’t really care if they approved of the changes in me or not anymore. It really surprised & delighted me.

That I was okay just being me.

Of course, I didn’t fully understand who that was really yet, but I felt okay letting God help me figure that out versus trying to mold to everyone else’s ideals, opinions, or desires of me.

God made me… not me… not them… GOD.

And I wanted HIM to have the final say on who I was from then on.

God Made Me, I Didn’t

If anyone knew who I was created to be, it was going to be the very One Who created me. My loving God Almighty, Creator of heaven & earth, Redeemer of my soul, through Jesus Christ.

If you are feeling stuck in a world of trying to fit in… to cover up or compensate for your flaws in order to feel “wantable” or accepted… just know that you aren’t alone in that. But also know that God is big enough in that struggle as well, because He made you & He loves you so very much. You don’t have to pretend with Him.

Shine HOPE, by not letting opinions, insecurities, the world, family, upbringing, culture, or anyone else define you. Leave that up to the One Who MADE YOU.

Coming Next Week

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