Tammin Sursok writes a heartbreaking letter to her ‘fat’ 13-year-old self

‘Dear 13-year-old Tammin,

‘Hi, It’s me, your future self, I’m standing on the sideline looking back at your ripe, fleshy, hopeful face and I know what happens when the arm of the clock aggressively hits its top pinnacle. The boy standing in front of you will break you. He will break your heart in ways you never thought possible. He will embarrass you as you feel the stares of awkward pre-pubescent males all stifling a hearty laugh. You will feel the chambers of your heart beat out of your chest as the blood dizzies around every cell of your body. For what you were waiting for, what keeps you up each night in desperate, feverish anticipation, is not the what the boy in front of you feels. Not only does he not have any giddy interest in you, but he will verbalise in front of everyone that you are indeed ‘FAT’ and after he miniaturizes you, he will parade away. And you will feel like the stage lights just blasted and you are standing upon a stage, naked, in all your quarter-pounder glory.

‘I can see you right now. The white cotton in your purple swimsuit stretches and moans as you fight to get it over your shoulders. You’d do anything to never swim again. You watch the unblemished swim team glide past, their bodies, as if carved out of medieval stone, fly like gazelles diving into the frigid water. Now it’s your turn. The room is deafening. The faces around you start to blur and de-colour as you feel like you are a passenger on your own haunted hayride, that is your life. You dive. Well, you try. You try to dive. Your body can’t propel you high enough so you falter, you slip and you fall. Hitting the water so hard that you feel like your body has been stung by a team of the Hamilton Island jellyfish. As you come up for disorientated air, all you hear, is the muffled chuckles and with all eyes on you, you have become the punchline, once again.

Happily ever after! Tammin is pictured with her husband Sean McEwen and daughters  Phoenix and Lennon at an event in Glendale, California on March 24, 2019

‘I see that girl. She will spend your school years antagonizing you, she will make it her duty to beat you down, trying to suck from a straw any self respect you might have. Distracting herself will deflect the self-loathing she feels for herself but you wont know that just yet. Not only will she steal your first real love but she will celebrate it, mocking you mercilessly until the only thing that can rock you to sleep is the monotonous sound of your own cries

‘But one day things will change. You will change

‘After enough friction and discord and abrasion a fire will spark in you. A fire that will burn uncontrollably. You will hear a voice, buried in other people’s opinions and words bathed in hate, that will rise like the Phoenix rising. You will name your first child this, to remind her that out of adversity she will forever reign. Your body will change, not because you are mimicking perfection, but because you will regard it as a vessel that needs to be treated with respect. A figure that will ultimately swell and magnify as it carries your unborn child. You will realize that malevolence towards you was from people who were struggling. Struggling in their own sense of self worth. You will realise unhappiness is the most powerful pipeline to hate. Things won’t happen overnight, you won’t feel resilient right away, most of the time you will walk through your life feeling stuck. But I’m here, standing on the sidelines, looking at you, my 13-year-old self, and I want you to know you’re going to be more than okay.’