Cute Jiggly Dumb Ex Cheerleader oink

Okay. I don't even know where to start with this. I used to be a cheerleader back in HS. I was head cheerleader. I was the whole "it girl" thing in a small school. The one who thought the world turning around me. I was 5'2", blonde, and yeah, I knew I was cute. I was also a massive troublemaker, I might made fun of the some overweight boys and girls. I thought I was hilarious. I was the queen of cruel, popular bully cheerleader . I didn't do subtle. If you were fat, you were a heifer in the hallways, a lardass struggling in gym, or my personal favorite, a wide load when you tried to fit at a desk.

Then the pandemic hit right after graduation. I was bored, anxious, and lonely. Food was there. Drinks were there. It started with stress-eating through online classes, then it was the fun weight when parties came back endless late night pizza, sugary alcopops, drunken fast food binges. Freshman 15 became freshman 50 .And it didn't stop.

I'm still 5'2". I still have blonde hair and these green eyes that look totally out of place now. But I am unrecognizable. .My body has officially entered its ripe era. Everything is soft.

My body is…soft. So soft it's embarrassing. My arms are flabby. Not toned cheerleader who needs to work out flabby, but heavy. There's a distinct jiggle from my shoulder to my elbow when I just wave hello. Forget tank tops. Sleeves are a necessity.

My chest is insane. I was always busty, but now I'm an HH cup. They're massive, heavy, and they rest on top of my stomach. My belly, It's not just one belly. It's a double belly. The top one starts right under my chest a round, firm shelf of fat. Then there's a crease, and below that is the lower belly, this softer, jiggly pouch that pushes against the waistband of every single pair of pants I own. When I sit, it all just spills into my lap. I have to lift it to dry underneath properly after a shower.

I'm not the girl I was. I'm a soft, slow, jiggling monument to bad choices and karma.

Okay. I don't even know where to start with this. I used to be a cheerleader back in HS. I was head cheerleader. I was the whole "it girl" thing in a small school. The one who thought the world turning around me. I was 5'2", blonde, and yeah, I knew I was cute. I was also a massive troublemaker, I might made fun of the some overweight boys and girls. I thought I was hilarious. I was the queen of cruel, popular bully cheerleader . I didn't do subtle. If you were fat, you were a heifer in the hallways, a lardass struggling in gym, or my personal favorite, a wide load when you tried to fit at a desk.

Then the pandemic hit right after graduation. I was bored, anxious, and lonely. Food was there. Drinks were there. It started with stress-eating through online classes, then it was the fun weight when parties came back endless late night pizza, sugary alcopops, drunken fast food binges. Freshman 15 became freshman 50 .And it didn't stop.

I'm still 5'2". I still have blonde hair and these green eyes that look totally out of place now. But I am unrecognizable. .My body has officially entered its ripe era. Everything is soft.

My body is…soft. So soft it's embarrassing. My arms are flabby. Not toned cheerleader who needs to work out flabby, but heavy. There's a distinct jiggle from my shoulder to my elbow when I just wave hello. Forget tank tops. Sleeves are a necessity.

My chest is insane. I was always busty, but now I'm an HH cup. They're massive, heavy, and they rest on top of my stomach. My belly, It's not just one belly. It's a double belly. The top one starts right under my chest a round, firm shelf of fat. Then there's a crease, and below that is the lower belly, this softer, jiggly pouch that pushes against the waistband of every single pair of pants I own. When I sit, it all just spills into my lap. I have to lift it to dry underneath properly after a shower.

I'm not the girl I was. I'm a soft, slow, jiggling monument to bad choices and karma.

Y'all liked the first comparison so here is another! Me at 19 and 125 lb ⏩️ me at 29 and 275

Okay. I don't even know where to start with this. I used to be a cheerleader back in HS. I was head cheerleader. I was the whole "it girl" thing in a small school. The one who thought the world turning around me. I was 5'2", blonde, and yeah, I knew I was cute. I was also a massive troublemaker, I might made fun of the some overweight boys and girls. I thought I was hilarious. I was the queen of cruel, popular bully cheerleader . I didn't do subtle. If you were fat, you were a heifer in the hallways, a lardass struggling in gym, or my personal favorite, a wide load when you tried to fit at a desk.

Then the pandemic hit right after graduation. I was bored, anxious, and lonely. Food was there. Drinks were there. It started with stress-eating through online classes, then it was the fun weight when parties came back endless late night pizza, sugary alcopops, drunken fast food binges. Freshman 15 became freshman 50 .And it didn't stop.

I'm still 5'2". I still have blonde hair and these green eyes that look totally out of place now. But I am unrecognizable. .My body has officially entered its ripe era. Everything is soft.

My body is…soft. So soft it's embarrassing. My arms are flabby. Not toned cheerleader who needs to work out flabby, but heavy. There's a distinct jiggle from my shoulder to my elbow when I just wave hello. Forget tank tops. Sleeves are a necessity.

My chest is insane. I was always busty, but now I'm an HH cup. They're massive, heavy, and they rest on top of my stomach. My belly, It's not just one belly. It's a double belly. The top one starts right under my chest a round, firm shelf of fat. Then there's a crease, and below that is the lower belly, this softer, jiggly pouch that pushes against the waistband of every single pair of pants I own. When I sit, it all just spills into my lap. I have to lift it to dry underneath properly after a shower.

I'm not the girl I was. I'm a soft, slow, jiggling monument to bad choices and karma.