Happy Friday! Today’s post is brought to you by Tricia Drammeh from blog.triciadrammeh.com .
“Dear Cool Mom,
You probably don’t remember me, but I remember you. How long has it been? Three years? Four? Doesn’t really matter, because I doubt you’ll read this letter.
While you were being the fun mom hanging with the preteens in the skate park, I was sitting on the bench outside eating McDonalds. The fat mom eating McDonalds. You thought it would be funny to mock me and to tell your children I didn’t really need those fries. My kids heard you. It made them angry and hurt their feelings, and probably embarrassed them too. I wonder if it embarrassed your kids. I wonder if you were embarrassed when you realized my kids heard you.
This isn’t going to be one of those letters where I justify my weight, because I don’t owe you an explanation for how I look or what I choose to eat. I won’t tell you…”