But I AM Enough, Mom

 Let me start by saying that I love my mother. She is my inspiration for being unapologetically weird and throwing yourself into something with 100% effort even if you barely know what is going on. She has always backed my decisions and helped me talk through tough situations. Through every stupid fight and every smart-ass reply, she has been here. But sometimes, she makes me feel like I am less than worthy.

Tonight, my mother told me that she is suspicious of my relationship. I have been with Eric for almost two years and things have been wonderful. We are a team through and through. Yet, my mother told me she believes he is using me. Using me for what? I have no idea as I am in massive student loan debt, barely make enough money to pay said debt, and the fanciest thing I own is a Nintendo Switch. She said, "I mean, he is skinny and you're fat. I don't understand it. When I was younger, it was all about looks. I just worry that he is only with you to use you." As if, merely because of my weight, someone couldn't love me. If someone couldn't see the funny, creative, caring person beyond the fat. If I'm not deserving of a man that cares for me because of my rolls. 

I initially laughed it off. "What could I possibly have that he would use me for?" I told her I am happy with Eric, that he cares about me and loves me despite my body. The conversation ended. The day went on. But then we all sat down for dinner later and I couldn't focus. I didn't want to eat in front of her.

She handed me a plate and I said, "No, thank you." She questioned me and I simply said, "I'm not hungry." Before my shaking hands and stinging eyes gave me away, I had to leave the table. I came upstairs and sat in my room alone crying. Sobbing. Wishing it wasn't this way. Wishing I was skinny so you would just love me the way I am. Wishing I wasn't here anymore so no one had to talk to you about my weight behind my back. Wishing I could just be someone that you were proud of. Wishing I was beautiful. 

And then it all came back down again. For one of the very few times in my life, I had been feeling like maybe I was pretty. But it couldn't last. I am back. Back to thinking that, no matter what I do, I will always be ugly. 

**Side note: I have not said this to many people, but the main reason I have tattoos is that I want people to look at me and see something pretty. Since I honestly believe at this point that something will never be me, I hope that my tattoos will suffice.