Jasmine DeLude

Tonight I’m here. Alone in my apartment. Contemplating the lives of others and the way the lights look. And wondering if I too appear busy enough, happy enough, content enough, loved enough.

It took me a long time to get here and I’m not wasting any more time. I’m not wasting any more goddamn time on anybody for any reason. We’re doing what makes us happy.

I feel like you’re the one I’ve been searching for. Like I found someone I’ve been missing but forgot about.

Tonight, I’m laying myself down to bed. I’m sobbing, because I finally understand why they say love is pain. Because I’m finally ready to face my fear. I’m ready to accept the love the world wants to give me.

If I put positive energy into the world, that affects other people. And if I put negative energy into the world, this too affects others.

Society has no influence on my worth as a person. I am not in competition with anyone. And no one can tell me that I am less than or other in any way.

Trigger Warning. This essay details one writer’s experience with suicidal ideation. If you are struggling with suicidal ideation or thoughts, you can reach the National Suicide Hotline at 1-800-273-8255. I’m suicidal, but I don’t want to die.

Remember that you are enough. You are smart. You are strong. You are beautiful.

The people you have in your life come and go. Relationships end. The thing inside you that makes you unique will not end.

When I die, I don’t want the worms to have to struggle to do what’s natural.

Tonight, in my heart and mind, I’m wishing you well.

To all of my fellow fat women. I said FAT. I don’t need to sugar coat that shit by saying Chubby, Squishy, Fluffy, or whatever. Fat is Fat.