Trapped In My Body

Trapped in my Body by Rachael Asikpo

Blurb

When darkness is your only admirer and the mirror mocks you in glaring light, what is left of your self esteem?

Story

“Did you see Miss Piggy today?”

“Her mother should have swallowed her!”

My heart sank as I listened from one of the stalls, with my knees drawn up to my chest, and my tears wetting my jeans.

Their cackles echoed, accompanied by witty remarks, as they compared me to hideous cartoon icons. Shuddering, tears cascaded from my heart like a fountain, engulfing me, drowning me. Slowly, I succumbed to despair, accepting the cruel labels they placed on me: a waste of space and a caricature of ugliness itself.

In Middle school, I had shared their mean remarks with  my mum, hoping for some comforting words. She said this instead, “Nonsense, baby! You still have your baby fat. You will grow into your feminine form soon!”

That was years ago. I turned sixteen and still remained the blob of matter everyone mocked.

My doctors diagnosed me with a disorder, explaining that my excessive eating was a source of comfort. They assured me that I would shed the weight and ditch the habit as soon as I reached puberty—but I didn’t.

I had no friends. My shadow was my own company, and “Miss Piggy” had become my second name. I tried to do sports, hoping to shed the weight, but every time I started jogging on the tracks, the taunts from mockers in the stands would break my resolve. I would be forced to resign, accepting how undesired I would always be… alone and unloved.

I remember standing in front of the mirror and glowering at myself, at the countless folds and sagging tissue, complemented by my stunted height. I did not have the womanly curves that made male mouths drool or heads swoon. Instead, I made lips curl in disgust and instantly soured the mood whenever I stepped into a room.

My mother’s words would always echo in my head… “Darling, what matters is how beautiful you are on the inside!”

I kept telling myself that to keep my faith…but that was till I ended up single at the age of 30.

I  have vivid memories of hiding away from the other kids during my childhood, spending days locked in the safety of my closet. The darkness brought a strange comfort, shielding me from the judgmental eyes of the world, allowing me to feel secure and unseen.

Some days, I wished I could run away to the coast and jump off a cliff into the waves below. I longed to let my flaws and my weight sink me to the bottom, taking me to the peaceful abyss where no one taunted me. I would be safe, away from sight—away from all of them!

I became resigned to my flaws, accepting that I would never be desirable to anyone. I believed I would always be alone—but this was until I met Mark, my husband.

I first met him at a shelter where I volunteered. He had been watching me care for people all day before we finally met on the train home. The warm smile he flashed at me and the small conversation he started made me self-conscious, too aware of my ugliness to pay him attention. I ducked from his sight and tried to put as much space between him and me, scared he was only using me for practice, or that there was a bet somewhere.

But Mark was persistent and patient. When his gaze held mine, he was looking at me, and not past me. He talked to me for me and not for my looks. He held my hands genuinely. He spoke softly. He reached into that abyss and pulled me out.

“Why do you bother with me? Aren’t you bothered by how I look? You can stop playing games with me!” I screamed at some point during our courtship.

His response was filled with genuine emotion, “I am drawn by the beauty in your heart and how it reflects in your eyes. It warms everything around you.”

I fell in love with him.

Mark led me out of that dark tunnel and into the light. He helped me lose weight, spotted me in the gym and took me on nature hikes. Our shared adventures brought us closer, and he helped me blossom into the butterfly I had always aspired to be. Within two years, we exchanged vows and became husband and wife.

Author’s note

I hoped Trapped In My Body had an effect on you as it did on me, the writer. I believe there are people out there that need this story and I only hope to help them realize that they can only be truly happy if they choose it, whether fat or slim, short or tall.

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My name is Racheal Asikpo. I can take the creative weight of completing your stories. I can also give you 70% distance from the writing and research. I offer ghostwriting, developmental editing and copyediting services. How about you allow a fresh pair of eyes give you a fresh breath of air?

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