Chapter 2: Miss Curvy

I didn’t answer and kept crying. Since I was too emotional to answer, I typed things on my phone while sniffling, then I handed over my phone to Annie.  

Annie read what I typed. “I didn’t win. Let alone win. My name wasn’t listed on the finalists either. I didn’t know how it happened.” 

All were quiet at once. My mom hugged me, and I sobbed more loudly. Dad asked everyone to go home. I immediately ran to my room on the second floor. I could still hear about what some of my extended family said from afar.  

“What a mess! How could they send an announcement and change the result on the day?” Uncle George, Annie’s father, was pissed off.  

“It’s possible they deliberately emailed Lana, so she came. They might want many to attend the event so it would be a successful one,” Reynold said. 

“How can you guess so?” Aunt Cleo asked. 

“Well, my friend experienced it too, Mom. He got an email to say he won a lottery, but how could he win? He has never bought the coupon!”

“It’s a different case, Son. It’s a fraud. While in Lana’s case, we don’t know for sure how it could happen. So, we can’t say your friend’s case is the same as Lana’s,” Aunt Cleo said again.

After a while, it was totally calm here. All of my extended family already went home. Dad and Mom left me alone so I could calm myself. They asked me to blow the candles when I felt better. They would wait because they didn’t want to miss my birthday celebration.  

My 28th birthday, a day that was supposed to be one of the happiest days and my proudest moments, turned out to be a disaster day that I would never forget. Getting a surprise (being humiliated before my extended family) was a truly extraordinary birthday gift!

Feeling exhausted after sobbing, a half hour later, I walked to the dining room. Mom and Dad were still there, waiting for me to celebrate my birthday. On the table, I saw a pretty pink birthday cake with brown flowers and candles. I smiled a little to see ‘Happy birthday, Lana’ on the cake.

“No need to think about it. Win or not, you are the winner.” My mom hugged me.

I didn’t reply because I was still too emotional to say anything. Staring at the birthday cake with two candles, with the 28 number, I felt the time flew so fast. It was as if I had just celebrated my seventeenth birthday yesterday.  

My dad lit the candles. “You may be disappointed today. It’s okay to be sad, but don’t be too long, okay?” He patted my back.  

I nodded weakly. Again, I said nothing. 

“Lana,” my dad said.

“Yes, Dad?”  

“Blow the candles first. Pray and make a wish for this year.”

Again, I nodded while trying to smile, despite not feeling like it at all. I closed my eyes, then said my prayer request in my heart. Love. I was stunned when I realized what I had asked for. How could I ask for it? I didn’t expect to wish for love this year. 

I wasn’t too close to many men. Most of them were only friends or colleagues. Boyfriend? Ah, it was just a daydream.  

When I opened my eyes, my dad stared at me and smiled. “I prayed God would grant what you wished for.”

My eyes were hot as I was about to cry again. “Thanks, Dad,” I whispered, while looking at the cake. If I kept staring at my dad, I would burst into tears again.  

“Let’s eat the cake,” my mom said while bringing a knife, three plates, and forks. 

After cutting the cake for my dad and mom, I cut a thin slice for myself.  

“Eat more,” Mom said.

I shook my head. “I don’t want to, Mom. Let’s keep it for tomorrow. Maybe I’ll eat more tomorrow.”

Afterward, I said goodnight and rushed back to my room. I needed time alone to think. Many “what ifs” played in my mind. I knew it was useless to think, but still I couldn’t stop it.  

Besides the changing of finalists’ names, I also thought about a different thing—what I wished for before blowing the candles. If only I got the desire of my heart this year.  

When I was 22 and got a broken heart for the first time, I ate like crazy. It was because of a simple reason: I found temporary comfort through food.  

However, when my body was getting fatter and my cheeks were chubbier, my mom panicked. “You’re too fat! Cut your food portion!”

It was weird that the more my mom forbade me to eat more, the more I wanted it. Maybe it had already formed a habit. It could be my small rebellion too. Slowly but surely, my weight kept adding. I was 5 feet and 3 inches and 165 pounds. I knew it was overweight already. When I realized it, it was already hard to lose the weight.  

My mom kept pestering me daily, “Don’t be too fat. None will want you! It will be so hard to be thin again. Go on a diet!” What she said was like adding some woods to a furnace, burning my suffering more and more each day.  

The irony was when I tried to diet, she would say, “Oh, my goodness! How come you eat so little? What if you are ill? Just eat in a normal portion.”

So, I was in a desperate situation. If I ate too much, I would be yelled at as fat. But then, if I ate too little, my mom was worried I would get sick. So, nothing I did was right. Because I didn’t know what else I had to do, I kept eating. No point in lessening my weight. It only brought suffering. It was good that I only ate food and hadn’t done negative things like get drunk or into drugs.  

Sadly, eating to get comfort was like a devil's cycle. The fatter I was, the tighter my clothes were. Finally, I had to buy a completely new wardrobe because my old clothes weren’t comfortable anymore. It was an unnecessary expenditure. While I was an accounting staff with a not too high salary.  

In the workplace, some people frequently whispered behind my back. “See that? Here goes Miss Curvy. She is so plump, isn’t she?” 

If it felt not enough to torture myself, I would listen to the next mean words. “That’s why if you have food, don’t offer her. She will be a giant soon!” 

I wanted to be mad, but it was a fact too. To think positively, they still used a soft nickname of “Miss Curvy” instead of “Miss Fatty”. It would be more condescending if they called me “Miss Fatty”.  

Gaining more weight made me inferior. I could get a boyfriend before. After breaking up six years ago, I was single until now. Probably, my fatty folds intimidated men. It was too bad because I wasn’t a possessive or a jealous lover.    

Sometimes I did self-defense. If there was a man who wanted to be my boyfriend, it meant he truly saw my inner beauty. Wasn’t the outside beauty only temporary and not everlasting? So, why bother to be busy with the outside beauty if we were ugly inside? 

Unfortunately, self-defense like that didn’t make me completely happy inside. Deep down, I wanted to be thin again. It would be great if I could be my old self, the one that was thin and attractive.