A six-year-old at my grocery store job asked why I was so fat. I quipped, “Why are you so short?” He replied, “I’m not short, I’m six.” His mom apologized, but the comment lingered. As a plus-sized woman, I’m used to remarks, but this one hit hard. I sat in my car, reflecting on my stalled dreams—teaching, a bookstore café with my friend Naeema—derailed by life’s demands.
Another kid later asked if I was pregnant. I brushed it off but noticed my health declining—winded easily, achy knees. So, I started walking, then jogging, with Naeema joining me. I lost eleven pounds, felt stronger, clearer. A customer, Mr. Vicente, gave me a flyer for a reading café, “Ink & Toast.” I applied, got hired part-time, and loved it—books, coffee, community.
Despite a grocery store promotion offer, I chose joy over security, keeping both jobs. Months later, the same kid reappeared, noting I wasn’t “fat anymore.” I smiled—growth had snuck up. Eventually, Mireya, the café owner, offered me the business as she moved. Naeema and I became co-owners, adding open mic nights and a kids’ library.
That child’s blunt words sparked a journey. From walks to a new career, I rediscovered my dreams, proving a moment’s sting can lead to a life reimagined.
