Hey, I'm Bree

I've said it before, but I have come to a fuller understanding of myself. See. I spent my whole life hating on myself for being overweight. Fat. Obese. etc. Anyway, let me tell you something. I don't give a fuck. I don't give a fuck if nobody likes it. I seriously don't care what you have to say on the matter. I'm hot. Not "I THINK I'm hot." I just am. I may not be what everything thinks is "beautiful," but I ain't some gross fuck that people can just talk shit about. Now, let me be clear, I haven't had anyone say anything about my weight to me in a long time, but I heard it a ton when I was younger. I was bullied, called names, ignored even because of my size until about the time high school started, but it was enough to cause me to hate myself. So thanks to all y'all who played a part in that. I'm not bitter though, and I don't hate any of them. I mean, it caused a lot of hurt in me. I remember feeling suicidal in 7th grade. What's that-12 years old? A 12-year-old wanting to kill herself because of other kids. It's sick. Yet it happens all the time. It breaks my heart for them, especially the ones who didn't have the the support like my family gave me. I remember I started high school wanting to be invisible. I wore baggy, awful, boring clothing so I could hide. I was ashamed of who I was. Who could ever love me? I was very shy, and rarely spoke to people I didn't know. I just figured that they were judging me. I didn't want to go through the pain of anyone else telling me how awful I was. So I never let anyone get the chance. But it was in my head. Constantly. Everything I did wasn't good enough for me because I didn't deserve it to be. I was a bad person in my eyes because I was fat. As high school went along, I started to open up more. Getting involved with theatre really helped that. Being able to be someone else was freedom from myself. Yet, I was still never good enough. And it all revolved around my weight. Well, if I wasn't heavy, I could dance better. Well, if I wasn't heavy, I could sing better. But it wasn't that I wasn't good at these things, it was that I was afraid to do them. I was afraid of the judgement. So I tried to refrain from doing them because I couldn't face anyone else. Or when I did try, I'd psych myself out after the constant nagging saying I couldn't do it. So yeah, I couldn't do it. My voice and creativity was stifled inside of me. It was there, but scared. It wasn't until college when I started to feel free. Freshman year doesn't count. The summer of '09, I was in my first musical and during one performance, there was a number where I just opened up. I had all my sass and growl and fire within me come pouring out. But it wasn't all ponies and rainbows after that. I still struggled. I would be my worst enemy, but I was learning what it took to defeat me. I started being more outgoing, being more involved, etc. And it was great. The first year in New York was hard. I was in this massive, crazy-talented city surrounded completely by strangers. I didn't know how to put my voice out there.But I started to love who I was, nonetheless. See, I had learned to put a mean mug on. I tried to act like I was the bitch that doesn't take no shit. And, while I don't take shit from anyone, me being a bitch is kind of a joke. Now, don't get me wrong, I can be bitchy at times, but, by no means, am I inherently bitchy. Jamila told me countless times that year "Bree. You say you're a bitch, but you're one of the nicest people out there." Ok. Yeah. I'm nice. I would go above and beyond for any of my friends to ensure that they're happy. I realized I couldn't live my life being afraid of what people thought of me or afraid of myself. So I calmed the fuck down. I went searching for the peace in my life. And it wasn't easy. But I learned to love myself. My body wasn't the definition of Bree. And I mean, come on, I definitely know how to dress it to make it look good. But I don't use clothes to hide it anymore. I use clothes to...accessorize it. I don't mind showing it off...I mean...I'm not a stripper or anything, but I want people to see me. To look at me, and go "hey, that girl is cute." or "hey girl, you looking gorgeous." Because I am. Sorry. I'm not sorry that I'm not a size 6 or even a size 16. Whateva. I'm awesome no matter what size I am, what I have been or what I will be. I'm Bree and I'm crazy awesome. I mean, not just any body could have gone through all the shit I've been through. So I love it. For as poorly I've treated it by thinking it was the worst thing in the world, it really pulled through to keep me alive. I don't need to be thin to be beautiful. I just am. I like who I am, both physically and personality-wise. I've learned a lot the past few years, and, though I can always continue to improve myself, I have found a perfect balance. I'm nice, yet sassy, maybe a little bit bitchy, um...funny, definitely, really funny, smart-that's a good one. Calm...definitely much calmer than I used to be, which makes me less stressed out and less of a worrier. Ambitious...I've always been ambitious, but now I'm not afraid to go after what I want. And most importantly, I think I'm genuine. I'm not trying to be someone I'm not. Really, I've never tried being like anyone else, but I was ashamed of who I was. Now, I am who I am, and I love that. It's not being narcissistic or stuck up, it's just loving who I've become. I'm proud of who I've become. I've been through a lot of shit. A lot of stupid shit, but it made me so strong. Who wouldn't be proud of that? It's a really cool feeling, being proud of yourself. I don't think we let ourselves do that often enough. It's like it's taboo or something. But it shouldn't be. I'm awesome. I don't have to fake confidence anymore, I just am. And that's so fucking cool.