Fat Scarcity

A Lament

I am in mourning.

Mourning for my siblings who, despite the abundance of their bodies, feel the sting of scarcity.

I, too, feel this sting.

This sting that says, “There is only so much love to give; there is not enough for you in your abundance of flesh.”

I mourn for all of us. Especially this week where we in the United States will prepare a feast that we refuse to allow ourselves to indulge in, perhaps.

I mourn for the scarcity that plagues us because of aspiring billionaires’ greed.

I mourn for the catalogue of desires that we have hidden beneath our beds, afraid to let ourselves want, even when we pray.

I mourn for my children, who have only known bodily abundance, but who live in this world of scarcity when it comes to fatness and plush flesh.

Abundance is ours, beloved. It is not just a fantasy—our bodies prove this truth.

Let my body stand as a testimony to such abundance. Let the rolls on my hips and the belly for days proclaim—There is enough for me. For you. For all of us.