A chubby girl complains about her body image and all her shortcomings, but unknown to her someone is soon to walk into her life to provide another perspective on things.
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This is a short story with no objectionable themes (and a little twist) which is meant as a reply for all the far too many fems who bemoan their shapes and feel ugly and unlovable. Its a fantasy/romantic piece but hopefully the themes it broaches ring true. Its a celebration of the oft derided, a recognition of the trails and pain many go through because they feel they don't measure up to the ridiculous standards of the 'norm'.
The truth is that these same lamenting woman may be missing out on the truth about themselves that someone who truly cares for them can share.
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Not the usual brand of story from Ol'Squeaks, but he feels strongly about this issue.
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The Capn' can vouch as he's fond friends with a fem many unkindly call names because of her shape, but to him she isn't just unfairly attacked but Ol'Squeaks is frankly fonder of the fair sex with a natural shape. Who wants a stick without definition say I, especially when the models in questions make themselves miserable to fit into a role assigned by society?
Big is beautiful, but no matter the shape or size ye can always find that better mirror out there :)

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A Chubby Girl

She sat on the beach and wept, salt laden tears like the salt spray that drifted onto her naked skin.
“I’m hideous!” she whimpered. “The ugliest creature in creation! What god did I rebuke who condemned me into this form?”
Pushing her trailing hair away she cupped her abundant breasts, despair wrought on every feature.
“I’m heavy, ugly. So much heavier the pretty girls who parade themselves for all the world to admire. My bosoms are obese, my stomach is portly, my bottom is outsized and round as two globed fruits. Woe is I!”
In a kind of desperation her questing hands sought out her hips, and she broke into a fresh series of sobs when she felt her circumference so far apart, her base practically bulging.
“Who could love someone so big in the middle, so puffy and swollen?” her eyes streamed like waterfalls. “I can’t imagine anyone caring for someone as plump, as hefty as me. I might as well crawl off into a cave and live alone in my misery until I die. There’s no sense in subjecting the world to so chubby a girl.”
“My gosh…”
The young woman turned to see a beachcomber staring, his expression hovering between surprise and suppressed delight.
“What?” she snapped. “You’ve come to laugh at me too? I know I’m not beautiful, no good to anyone being so…so fat!”
The beachcomber slowly shook his head, a smile creeping onto his lips.
“But don’t I disgust you?” she sniveled. “My stout chest, my rounded behind?”
He shook his head again, slower, eyes distant as if focused on something within her rather then simply her form.
“How about my hips and my abdomen?” she sneered almost prideful. “Most disgusting thing you’ve ever seen! I’m huge, biggest woman you ever laid eyes on. You’d probably just as well call me piggy or blimp or whale as look at me!”
“I’d call you…” he gulped. “Lovely.”
She was genuinely shocked, almost taken aback.
“Lovely? Are you blind?” she lashed the beach in frustration. “I’m a massive, bulging ugly, chubby, hideous…!”
“Mermaid.”
Her mouth quivered but no sound came.
“You’re a mermaid.” The young man said. “A beautiful, buxom, graceful creature. You can’t see that all these shortcomings are just your tail. It’s just a part of you, but even then it’s not a thing so terrible. You’re wondrous and unique.”
Tears slipped from the mermaid’s eyes but they were cold now, not hot with her sadness, and she even managed a brief smile.
“All the time swimming and you never look into the waves from the top to see yourself as you are?” the beachcomber blushed. “Look carefully. See the whole you.”
She glided to the waters edge and looked down into herself.
“I don’t see anything but a chubby girl.” She said, sourly.
Suddenly the beachcomber’s own reflection joined hers, standing nearby.
“Then perhaps you need a better mirror.” He said. “Sometimes it takes people who care for us to see us with another set of eyes. There’s a word we humans have for what happens when those better mirrors we meet speak back to us all the wonders they see that we cannot.”
“Hmm?” she was feeling much more at ease, the color returning to her cheeks. “What word is that?”
“Love.” He said, simply.
She beckoned and he crouched beside her. He made no resistance as she took his chin into her delicate hand and lowered him gently to sit beside her. Her deep green eyes found his blue and she heaved a contented sigh.
“The merfolk use the same word.” She said. “Until to today I did no know what it meant.”
“There’s always another fish in the sea.” The man chuckled. “Even if you have to surface to find it.”
Then, by the light of the dying sun, they shared a passionate kiss.