maybe you don’t notice at first.
don’t notice the way you struggle a bit more to button up your jeans before work.
don’t notice the way your shirt feels a lot tighter, how it’s practically become a second skin for you.
don’t notice the way you breathe heavier just walking from your house to your car, sitting in the front seat for a moment just to catch your breath.
don’t notice the way you had to move your seat back this morning, too, because the steering wheel has started to press uncomfortably into your stomach and thighs.
don’t notice the way your first meal of the day has more calories than you should be eating for half the day.
don’t notice the way you stop and get donuts on the way to work more frequently now, so you have something to snack on during work.
don’t notice the way your co-workers are staring more and more often at you, the way your clothes cling to your body, every new pound on full display.
don’t notice the way your shirt has started to roll up while you eat, exposing that soft underbelly for the world to see.
don’t notice the way you eat three times as much as your friends do when you all go out, ordering more and more and finishing off their plates for them, too.
maybe you don’t notice how fat you’re getting, but you’re going to notice soon.
you’ll notice when you try to pull your old favorite jeans on, and they get stuck on your thighs. you’ll fight and pull and try to get them on, but even if you manage to slide them up your legs, they’ll never button across that belly.
you’ll notice when all of your shirts have suddenly become crop tops, sliding up to rest above the top of your belly.
you’ll notice when you get out of breath just walking from your bedroom to the kitchen to stuff your face even more. how a simple few steps make you have to pause.
you’ll notice when the seatbelt cuts into your belly and chest when you move too far in your seat, when it’s a struggle to fit yourself in behind the steering wheel.
you’ll notice when your breakfast order comes out and there’s enough plates to feed a family of 4, and the waitress asks if you’re sure you can finish all that.
(you know you can, you’ve done it before.)
you’ll notice when your two, three, four donuts a day becomes 7, 8, 9, a dozen a day, until the workers know your name and order by heart.
you’ll notice when your co-workers start to whisper when you walk by, asking what happened to you, how could you let yourself go like that?
you’ll notice when your clothes are tight before you even eat, but they become unbearable once you’ve shoved all that food into your face. when you have to unbutton your jeans mid meal, as to not risk losing a button.
you’ll notice when your friends start asking if you need that 3rd, 4th, 5th plate, if you really need dessert after all that food. when they say hey, we’re going to the gym after lunch, do you want to come?
you’re getting fat, and you love it.
