Last week, someone called me fat.
I’m going to be transparent: it hurt.
The comment was, “She’s the fat sister.”
And for a moment, those words found a place to sit.
I could pretend they didn’t bother me. I could tell you I immediately brushed them off and kept moving. But that wouldn’t be true.
I thought about them.
It replayed in my mind.
I even dreamed about it.
Because sometimes words hit differently when they land on something you’ve already been quietly dealing with yourself.
I’ve been navigating changes in my body. I’ve watched my weight fluctuate. I’ve looked in the mirror and noticed things that look different than they once did. And I’ve had my private conversations with myself about all of it.
So, when those words were spoken, they didn’t create a new insecurity. They knocked on the door of something I was already working through.
And for a minute, I answered.
But then I realized something.
Some echoes disappear when we stop answering them.
I cannot control what another person says about me.
I cannot control how someone sees me.
I cannot control whether the people closest to me always choose their words carefully.
What I can control is whether I allow their words to become the voice I use when I speak to myself.
And I refuse.
I can work on myself without hating myself.
I can have goals for my body while still loving the body I have today.
I can exercise, make healthier choices, drink my water, take care of myself, and pursue the woman I am becoming without believing that the woman standing in the mirror right now is somehow less worthy.
Whether I’m 30 pounds lighter or 30 pounds heavier, I am still Anika.
I am still beautiful.
I am still creative.
I am still helping people.
I am still building.
I am still becoming.
And I am still worthy of speaking kindly to the woman in the mirror.
Distractions don’t always look like distractions.
Sometimes we think distractions are social media, television, our phones, or things that keep us from finishing our work.
But sometimes a distraction is a sentence.
A look.
An opinion.
A comparison.
Something someone said three days ago or three years ago that you’re still carrying today.
And if we’re not careful, we will spend so much energy answering an echo that we lose focus on the life happening right in front of us.
That’s what I’m learning.
Not everything deserves a response.
Not everything deserves an explanation.
And certainly not everything deserves permanent residence in my spirit.
There will always be noise. And sometimes the noise will come from people we love. We may not always be able to remove the person, change the situation, or prevent the words from being spoken.
But we can decide what happens after they reach us.
We can acknowledge that it hurt without building a home around the hurt.
We can feel it without becoming it.
We can learn from it without carrying it.
And eventually, we can stop answering.
That’s where I am.
I heard it.
I felt it.
I processed it.
But I’m not answering that echo anymore.
I have too much life to live.
Too much purpose to pursue.
Too much love to give.
And too much becoming left to do.
A Becoming Note: “Some echoes disappear when we simply stop answering them. Protect your spirit by deciding which voices deserve to stay.”
Affirmation
I will not turn someone else’s words into my inner voice. I choose to speak life over the woman I am becoming.
Journal With Me
What words, opinions, or experiences have been echoing in your spirit lately?
Write them down.
Then ask yourself: Is this truth—or is this simply an echo I’ve continued answering?
What would change if today you decided to stop responding to it?
Maybe healing doesn’t always require another conversation.
Sometimes healing sounds like silence.
No response. No replay. No more echo.
Anika