The Trickster – A Fable About Body Positivity and Self-Acceptance

Once upon a time, in a quaint little village, there lived three women who were rivals, friends, and each other’s harshest critics. Ironically, despite being slender and considered attractive by many, they took great delight in mocking each other’s bodies with cruel nicknames. They called one another Chubby, Fatso, and Porky—not out of affection, but out of vanity masked as jest.

These women wanted nothing more than to be courted, adored, and cherished. But, despite their youthful appearances and thin frames, no man ever seemed interested in them. As years passed, they made a pact: they would remain as slim and svelte as they had been in their teenage years, believing this would eventually win them the admiration they craved.

Chubby adored desserts—pies, pastries, and anything sweet—but after turning twenty, she denied herself every indulgence. Fatso loved rich, buttery pasta but swore off it forever. As for Porky, nobody ever discovered her favorite dish because she only ate in secret, ashamed to be seen enjoying food.

Time marched on. The three women aged into middle life, yet their bodies remained thin. Still, they lived alone, except for their cats who offered silent companionship. Their hearts, however, remained just as empty as their dinner plates.

A Strange Visitor Under the Moonlight

One crisp autumn evening, Chubby strolled through her garden and spotted a strange creature nibbling on her berry bushes. It was a turtlebat—a mystical being with the shell of a turtle, wings of a bat, and wise, glowing eyes.

“Shoo! Don’t eat my berries!” Chubby shouted, though her voice lacked conviction.

The turtlebat chuckled, “Oh dear lady, these berries are the sweetest I’ve tasted. But tell me, why are you so thin and stern-looking?”

Chubby crossed her arms. “Because if I gain weight, no man will ever love me.”

The turtlebat laughed heartily, his wings flapping gently. “What a pity! If you only ate what you truly loved, your happiness would grow along with your figure. Tell you what—start eating freely, and I’ll return in one year to take you on a grand flight. But mind you, in your current state, you’re too frail—you’d fall right off my back.”

Without waiting for a response, the turtlebat soared into the night sky, his laughter echoing through the trees.

A Year of Change

Chubby returned home, thoughtful and inspired. That very night, she baked herself a golden apple pie, warm and fragrant, and devoured it with two glasses of creamy whole milk under the moonlight. For the first time in decades, she felt satisfied and peaceful.

The next morning, she told Fatso and Porky about the turtlebat’s visit. The friends scoffed at first, convinced it was just another prank or delusion. But when Chubby began filling out, her cheeks rosier, her laughter warmer, they couldn’t ignore the change.

Fatso couldn’t resist any longer. She prepared herself steaming plates of pasta drenched in butter and cheese. Porky, emboldened by her friends, began eating in public for the first time, savoring each bite without shame.

Soon, the three friends started frequenting the local tavern every week, ordering whatever caught their fancy—meats, desserts, and wine. As their bodies grew more varied in shape—Chubby becoming voluptuous, Fatso a plump and radiant medium, and Porky remaining slim but glowing—they noticed a peculiar shift.

Where once they were scowled at, now charming men smiled at them, offered drinks, and asked to join their table. Their laughter filled the tavern, and their old cruel nicknames were replaced with tender ones: Honey, Sweetie, and Darling.

By the time the year passed, each woman had found a suitor, someone who loved them not for their size, but for their joy, confidence, and kindness. Their lonely days seemed a distant memory.

The Turtlebat’s Return

But far above, the turtlebat had not forgotten his promise. One year to the day, he flew over the village, searching for the three women. He found them arm-in-arm with their new partners, smiling and radiant, their lives transformed not by weight, but by self-acceptance.

The turtlebat landed quietly in Honey’s garden, gobbling up the sweet, ripe berries with glee. He chuckled to himself, “Sometimes, a little trickery is necessary to steer people back to joy. It may be wrong to lie, but the happiness it brought—well, that’s a truth of its own.”

And with that, the turtlebat disappeared into the night, satisfied that his gentle deception had worked wonders.

Moral of the Story

The value of a person is not measured by their body size but by the joy they bring to themselves and others. True happiness comes from embracing who you are, indulging in life’s pleasures without shame, and living without the weight of others’ judgments.