I F*cking Hate My Body

Amye Archer

Excerpt from the memoir Fat, Girl, Skinny

I fucking hate my body, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t.

I buy dresses, hike them up above the knee, feel the swoosh of them on the back of my thighs, but cannot forget the purple inky veins slinking across my skin. Blue, black, deep red, these lines remind me to pull it down, tug it over my ass, stay grounded, stay knee-length in all things.

I buy new bras, smaller across the back, skinnier straps for a slimmer body, yet the cups remain overflowing. My breasts hang heavy with past mistakes. The valleys in my shoulders remind me of their heft.

I buy panties with the most elastic, walk past the lace, past the high hip cuts, straight to the strongest, sturdiest pair. I buy black, hoping there is some sex appeal left in color.

I buy tools to quantify my being. My digital scale holds bad news. My FitBit says I haven’t done enough. My Fitness Pal says I’ve overeaten again.

I fucking hate my body, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t.

I can’t wear short shorts because of my veins.

I can’t wear tank tops because of my floppy biceps.

I can’t wear a bathing suit in public.

I can’t sit down without worrying about muffin top.

I can’t be naked in the daylight in front of my husband, ever.

I can’t fake it. I never could.

I fucking hate my body, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t.

But, I love the inside. The red, gushy throb of my love, the seemingly endless canals of hope, the equal parts sweet and snark.

I just wish I could turn myself inside out and meet you, heart first.

Photo Credit: Stephanie Overton via Compfight cc

Written by 

Amye Archer holds an MFA in Creative Nonfiction. Her memoir, Fat Girl, Skinny, was named runner-up for the Red Hen Press Nonfiction Manuscript Award, and has been nominated for a Pulitzer Prize. She has two poetry collections: BANGS and A Shotgun Life, both published by Big Table Publishing. Amye’s work has appeared in Brevity, Creative Nonfiction, Hippocampus, Mothers Always Write, Nailed Magazine, PMS: Poem Memoir Story, PANK, and Provincetown Arts. She is the creator of The Fat Girl Blog.

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7 thoughts on “I F*cking Hate My Body”

  3. Thought I was alone. Amazing, profound piece. Wish I could meet that red gushy throb you write of in person. You are an inspiration. Welcome, welcome to Feminine Collective!!!

  4. First of all, Amye, I adore your writing. Secondly, I agree with Julie: you really do speak for all of us. About ten years ago, I decided I couldn’t wear shorts any more because of the veins on my legs and my”ugly” knees. So I stopped. But you know what? It’s freaking hot in the summer and we don’t deserve to be uncomfortable because of veins and fat or whatever. So this summer, I wore shorts again and even wore a two piece bathing suit to the beach once because life’s too short. ( No pun intended.) As Julie said, we’re all perfect just the way we are.

  6. Amye, this is an outstanding piece. I am absolutely in love with it.

    “But, I love the inside. The red, gushy throb of my love, the seemingly endless canals of hope, the equal parts sweet and snark. I just wish I could turn myself inside out and meet you, heart first.” – Brilliance.

    Beautiful inside and out in my eyes, but I feel all of it because I too fucking hate my body. This is out of the park.

    Nicole

  7. Amye,

    You speak on behalf of ALL women. Isn’t it a shame? I don’t go naked or wear shorts in public either.
    Meanwhile, we are absolutely perfect – we should own it.

    Welcome to Feminine Collective.

    Best-
    J

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