Dear Fat Annie,
Well. Here goes nothing. And by “nothing,” I mean “you.” [That’s a rude way to start a letter. Sorry, Fat Annie. Forgive me.]
We need to have a quick talk. See, I’m starting this Subway Get Fit Challenge. And it’s going to be awesome and fun and hard and in the end, I’m not going to know you anymore. I’m not going to carry you with me. I’m going to be healthy. And thinner.
And Fat Annie, you are just going to be a memory.
But that’s kinda scary because you are all I’ve ever known. In the words of Jane Austen’s Mr. Bennett, you’ve “been my constant companion these twenty years.”
Twenty years. That’s exactly true.
You know, I went through a rough season with you, Fat Annie. Remember high school? Early college? I hated you. Gosh I hated you. And then God began to speak loudly in my heart about how fearfully and wonderfully I was made. And it stopped being about you. And it started being about me. The inside me. The Annie that won’t change based on her pant size. And I like her.
So for the last ten years or so, I haven’t hated you. Sure, I’ve had days [weeks, but who’s counting?] but in general, I’ve just come to accept you.
But that’s wrong. You’re a sweet person, Fat Annie, but I don’t think you are the Best Annie. It’s time that my outside reflected the healthy heart that lives on the inside.
I’ll be honest with you, though. I think I’m going to miss you. I laid in my bed one night last week and cried over you, Fat Annie. Over the fear I have of being someone else. Over leaving the security you are for me. Over the loss. Because somehow, this feels like a death. Like someone I have known for a long time, and someone I have worked really hard to love, is leaving me. Because of me.
It’s a complicated thought process. And it doesn’t even make sense to me.
But I wanted to write you real quick. And say thanks for the good times, and the hard times, because without you, Fat Annie, I wouldn’t be here. You’ve been a good friend, but it’s time for us to part ways.
I’m off the grander things. Like the gym. And smaller pants.
Best Annie On The Inside Is About To Be Best Annie On The Outside
[that signature is way too long. I’m gonna have to work on that.]