What its like to be obese like this…
I came across this thanks to my Google alerts and I have to admit I was horrified. Not surprised but still horrified.
Trigger warning (extreme self hatred and fat hatred ahead)
The story is one person’s account of being obese. Now I hate the word obese for a variety of reasons but that is the word this person chooses to use and it is just one way the predominant social attitude towards fat has pummelled this poor individual into a state of severe self-loathing.
According to nomorefatty (the author of the piece), her story reveals the ‘terrible truth’ about living fat. I was intrigued. I agree, there are some downsides to being fat (like people hating on you simply because you are fat) and I was curious to see where nomorefatty went with this. By the end of the account I was really upset for nomorefatty. Not because of her being fat but because of the extent of her self-loathing. I firmly believe that nomorefatty’s self hatred is more likely to cause her problems in her life than being fat will.
Nomorefatty says
You stare wistfully at your reflection in the mirror. No matter which angle you turn, you just don’t quite look right… You can apply makeup, and help make yourself look better to a certain degree, but you know that no one is going to compliment your shade of lipstick today. The rest of your body is a mishmash of lumps and bumps, protrusions and strange angles that you know you simply cannot hide, regardless of what you wear. Your desperation turns to panic as you raid your closet and realize that you have nothing decent to wear. Your panic escalates to heart failure as you remember that you won’t be able to find anything to wear…ever. The pants you own hug your belly, butt and thighs as if the cloth itself were holding on for dear life. The shirts you don only seem to accentuate your spare tire and bring attention to your ever-expanding waist. You realize this is as good as its gonna get and vow to avoid mirrors for the remainder of the day. You leave for work. As soon as you exert yourself in the simplest way you begin to leak copious amounts of sweat from pores you didn’t even know you had. You are constantly plagued by this problem, and try to move as little as possible, because you know if you do, you’ll start to sweat again, and everyone will see it. If the bathroom, supply room, lunch room, whatever is downstairs you will put off going for as long as possible because you know that the simple climb up those stairs will cause those telltale beads of sweat to form along your brow…the one’s that scream “Look at the fatty, she cant even climb a flight of stairs without breaking into a sweat!!!”
In response to that, I say this. I am obese. I am what is classed as morbidly obese. And while I don’t doubt for one second that this is how nomorefatty thinks about herself and experiences her life, it is certainly not how I experience MY life. People read accounts like that of nomorefatty and they assume that this is what life is like for ALL obese people, and nothing could be further from the truth. I do not look ‘wistfully’ into the mirror. I do not feel that I don’t ‘look right’. People compliment me on the shade of my lipstick (and eyeshadow) all the time! I do not try to hide my mishmash of lumps and bumps and wouldn’t even consider doing so. I don’t panic when I look in my closet because I am privileged enough to have a wardrobe full of really nice clothes that fit me and that I like, despite being ‘morbidly obese’. I do not avoid mirrors and I do not ‘leak copious amounts of sweat’ unless I have undertaken vigorous physical activity or it is 40 degrees Celsius outside. I don’t avoid climbing stairs either for that matter.
Nomorefatty continues
You eat your lunch. Regardless of what you decide to have, you know that people are silently judging you. Salad or pizza, everyone is either thinking, “She should NOT be eating that” or “How pathetic, like a salad is going to fix THAT problem”. In addition, you struggle with your own guilt and self-loathing. If you pick the salad, you will be tortured with the smells of that penne a la vodka wafting off your friend’s plate. If you pick the pasta, you beat yourself up and don’t enjoy a single bite of it. Either way, you loose. You go shopping. You dare not even attempt to walk into most of the stores in the mall. You have tried it before and were immediately put to shame by the disapproving glances of the sales people or your fellow shoppers. You realize that the largest size they carry is a 12, and since you are a 28, there is no way that is happening. Sadness overwhelms you when you realize all you can buy in the vast majorities of stores are socks, shoes, and earrings. You make your way to the “big girls” store and walk in, shameful, hoping no one saw you. Your heart aches as you ponder the wares being offered to you. Bottoms that are ill fitting and make you look twice as heavy as you are. Tops that are just as ill fitting that make you feel like you are wearing a garbage bag with holes cut out for the head and arms. Everything offered is in garish colors like lime green or neon pink. The materials used are cheap polyester blends that just intensify your own body heat and will make you (surprise!!) sweat like a pig. You may find a few items that could potentially look OK on you and you say a prayer as you take them to the fitting room. As you try these items on you are not surprised by the result. You look fat…and the clothes only make it that much worse. Of course you need pants and sweaters, so you buy the closest thing to “ok” that you can find. Naturally you pay more for these items than your thinner counterparts because the stores know you only have one or two retailers to choose from, so if they charge 60.00 for a pair of basic black slacks…you are gonna have to pay it. No $10.00 items for you fatty!
I do agree with nomorefatty that people probably are silently judging me no matter what I eat when I am out in public. Do I let that bother me? Not anymore. I used to. I used to avoid eating in public at all costs. Now I couldn’t care less what people think of what I am eating. Let them be judgemental fools. It is more of a reflection on them than it is on me. And yeah, I do struggle with guilt and self loathing sometimes. Don’t we all? But now days my guilt and self loathing is rarely related to my being fat. I have other more important things to feel guilty about! If I pick a salad for lunch, it is because I WANT a salad for lunch and it won’t matter what my fellow diners are devouring. Which is why if I want a penne a la vodka, I will have a penne a la vodka. If I feel like a salad, I will have a salad. It is called mindful eating. Look it up. Yes, I will avoid particular stores in the mall because I know they do not carry clothing in either my style or my size or both. Does that bother me? Only in that I wish larger size clothes were more widely available in the style I like to wear and I can’t fathom that businesses haven’t worked out they could make a shitload more money if they stocked larger sizes as well. Decently styled larger clothes that is, not just frumpy tent dresses. But if I want to go in and look, I will. How the hell do they know I am not shopping for my daughter or a friend? They don’t. And if they lose my business because of their anti-fat attitude, then bigger fool them! I am not shamed when I walk into ‘the big girl’s store’. Mind you, we only have one such store in my town. And half the women in said town shop in said store. Sure, not all the clothes in there are my cup of tea but that’s ok. I can source my style elsewhere. I do lament the crap that is offered up as an excuse for plus size clothes. I do think there should be better alternatives. I have nomorefatty’s back on that one! But not for everything she laments…
You go out with your friends. While your thin girlfriends get drink after drink bought for them, you bear the shame of reaching into your wallet over and over again. While they attract positive attention, flirt shamelessly, steal kisses and get numbers you hover near the bar, pull at your ill-fitting clothing and wish you were invisible. If by chance some guy happens to pay you some attention you now its one of three things…Either; the guy is not someone that you would want to be with, they are super drunk and rocking beer goggles, or it’s the work of the super hot guy who is trying to bed your thin friends wingman. Sure, it could be just a guy who likes bigger girls…but come on, who the heck are we kidding? You know deep down that you will never attract the kind of guy you would want to be with long term. That perfect guy, who is fit and handsome, has a great job and a great personality, who is funny and witty, who has great friends and a great family, who you would be proud to have on your arm and who will treat you right. That decent guy is out there, and although he would never be mean to you because he is far to kind, and although he would never poke fun at you because his mother taught him good manners, and although he may buy you a drink because it is the polite thing to do…you know that he will never turn to you, gaze into your eyes, kiss you softly and tell you that you are “the one”. Why? Because he is not attracted to you. Sure, you can get a guy, get a date, get someone to take you home…but is that really the guy that you would pick if you could pick anyone? The answer is NO. Let’s be honest.
While I don’t go out partying much at all these days (if ever) I did plenty of partying before I got married (before I got married this time anyway). And my girlfriend that I went out with most of the time WAS thinner than me. She wasn’t thin but she was thinner than me. And never had to buy her drinks (or anyone elses) because I was fat and not getting any attention or having a good time. The three qualifiers nomorefatty offers up as to why a guy might show interest in a fat chick? #1? Oh yeah. I got hit on plenty of times by guys I was not and no way ever would be interested in. Sure, maybe #2 happened. It sure happened from my end! #3? No. And I can say that with certainty because my friend and I never ended up with guys who were friends or who were out together. I know the wingman thing happens and it makes me sick. But it hasn’t happened to me. As for knowing I could never attract the sort of guy I would want to be with long term? Um well yeah. I did. I have. And come Thursday I will have been married to him for 5 years. My husband is HOT and he is JUST the sort of guy I wanted to be with. So yeah. Even fat girls can get the guy, should they feel so inclined. I don’t see the perfect guy has having to be ‘fit and handsome’. I don’t want ‘the perfect guy’. I want the perfect guy FOR ME. And I have him. Sleeping in the bed next to me as I speak ; ) He has great friends and a great family, is HOT (did I mention that already?), has an awesome personality and a fantastic job. He is funny and witty and charming. He treats me right and I am as proud to have him on my arm as he is to have me on his. This decent guy did turn to me, gaze into my eyes, kiss me softly and tell me I am ‘the one’. And he has been doing so for near on 6 years. He IS attracted to me and he tells me so all the time. And that is being totally honest.
You read up on sites that proclaim “FAT? So what..?” and study sites that rally for fat acceptance. You hear people that look just like you proclaim that they are happy with their weight, that they love their bodies, and that they wouldn’t change it for the world. You listen to them say that society is the problem and that others should be more tolerant because we are all meant to be different. You pump your fist in righteous indignation and agree with them, heck, you may even truly come to believe in their bylines. However, there is always a part of you that knows that what you are is not accepted, not natural and not attractive. You know, deep down, that you are the problem…not everyone else. You also know that if a magic potion were offered to you that would melt away your fat and make you lean and toned you would take it without hesitation. You also know that all those “fat acceptance” people on those websites…deep down…would too.
This is the reality of being obese. This is what it is like. Maybe not everyday, but just enough days to make you really seriously consider becoming a hermit.
Sorry nomorefatty but no. No. No. NO. I do not, deep down, know that I am the problem. I do not know that I am not natural and not attractive. And I definitely do not know that all ‘those fat acceptance people on those websites…deep down…’ feel that way too. Being one of those people on those fat acceptance websites I can tell you in total and utter honesty, I do not feel that way at all.
I could on and refute nomorefatty’s entire account but you get the general idea. And while I acknowledge that it is highly possible that my life is more privileged in many ways than perhaps nomorefatty’s is, I find it alarming to have one person put forward what they believe life to be like for ALL obese people. Nomorefatty’s story is but one person’s individual account of life. Mine is very different. Nomorefatty’s version fits nicely with the social stereotyping of fat people and the sort of lives they THINK we lead. I know different. I know my life is different and I know the lives of many other fatties are different to that of nomorefatty. I wish nomorefatty could learn to love and accept herself, her fat self. I wish she could be happier with who she is and find fulfillment and contentment within herself and in her life. I wish that for everyone. Self loathing is not the way people, it is not the way to anywhere you want to go. Believe me, I have been there. Many, many times. I still visit occasionally but I sure as hell don’t want to live there. I wish nomorefatty could move out too and find somewhere much nicer, somewhere with a lot less self loathing, where she could live and love and be happy. I can wish.
Thank you for sharing this. I too read a lot, a real lot, of self loathing there. I hope nomorefatty can get past this place and find what we have and are finding.
Though I have to admit, even at my lowest, I never loathed myself this much. Never once. Elements of, but not that whole, total, complete self loathing that I see there.
And I’ve often wondered about the sweat thing too – I don’t sweat like others talk about. Alcohol makes my face sweat. And really humid days do, but generally, this superfatty doesn’t sweat any more than I think others do.
Whoa…
That was me all the way for most of my life. It was like going back in time, to HELL. I didn’t avoid stairs either, but the rest of it was so true.
I am totally glad I read this. I honestly have come so far and I knew that, but I didn’t KNOW it deep down. I still feel that way from time to time, but those feelings are mere ghosts of long dead suffering. No real substance to them at all. I am so happy with me now that those feelings have no real power to hurt me, maybe they never did?
The only part that made my cry was when you talked about you and your husband. How you love each other. How he told you that you were the one. I was happy for you, a little sad for myself that I haven’t found that but not wounded, you know?
This is why this FA movement is so immensely important. There is no reason for anyone to feel that way about themselves. I know that it will not happen overnight, but these small changes we manage to make today will ripple out into the future.
That poor, sad, misinformed woman. She is wasting her precious, irreplaceable life believing & accepting the lies, hating herself, & choosing to be lonely & unhappy. That is just so wrong. I hope that she has an awakening someday soon.
I won’t disagree with your overall point. It’s sad that this woman dislikes herself, dislikes her body, so intensely.
I will say, though, that her sweating experience is awfully familiar to me. I don’t know if it is associated with my body size, or if I would have this problem even if I were slimmer. But when I move around, and it’s at all warm, my face starts to drip with sweat.
Most of the time it’s not a real problem, but it happened a few weeks ago when I was at a job interview on a hot day. I’d dressed as lightly as I could, while still looking professional, but as the day wore on I felt my face and neck start to sweat, and sweat, and sweat. I tried to deal with it subtly, but it’s not like I could pull out a bandanna and swab my face in the middle of the interview, without calling attention to the problem. And I fear that if the interviewers noticed this they would fall back into stereotypes of fat people, that because I was sweaty I must be sloppy, unkempt, and unhealthy.
So, yes, this post is really sad. But unfortunately some of her points do ring true. It’s just that we can choose to try to handle the lives we’ve been dealt with optimism, or we can be distressed by them.
As for me, I’m now trying to figure out a still-cooler interview outfit to make and have ready for the next time I have to interview on a hot day. What else could I do? Silent suffering, misery, and self blame just isn’t my style.
I feel great sorrow for Nomorefatty. She clearly has huge self-esteem issues. But Nomorefatty, don’t pin your issues on me. I don’t sweat excessively (and it’s very possible for thin people to have extra-active sweat glands, too, btw), I don’t feel shame on going into the plus size store at the mall. In fact, I choose it over the department store that also has a women’s size section. I can even find some pretty clothes that actually fit me there.
I have never been talked up by someone’s wingman. I feel no shame at buying my own drinks. In point of fact, I’ve been known to buy someone else a drink because I think it’s great that I live in a time when I can have my own income and take care of myself.
Yes, I can take care of myself, but I’ve also been happily married for more than sixteen years to a guy who honestly adores me – fat, sarcasm, rotten housekeeping, grudge holding, and all. Hell, a couple years ago a guy came to a screeching halt in the street to have a word with me. Me. 5′2″, size 22 (at the time), no makeup, me. I can take care of myself, but I don’t need to be lonely. And when I’m alone, I find that I’m actually pretty darn good company.
As for people judging my figure, my clothes, my food choices…I feel sorry for people who have so much time on their hands to judge what I’m doing or what I look like. I enjoy my food, whether I want salad or pasta or (gasp!) a cinnamon bun with gooey frosting. I enjoy dressing up to please my own eye and that of my husband (as a far secondary consideration). If anyone else likes it (and many do), that’s nice. If they don’t, well, they don’t have to look at me.
I have a job I love, a husband who delights me and delights in me every day, good friends, hobbies, a cat who picked me out of hundreds of potential people, good health, and a great sense of humor. Being fat has not stopped me getting any of those things, and it doesn’t have to stop Nomorefatty, either.
Nomorefatty, take another look in that mirror, but this time try to see what you have that’s good. You have a job, you can support yourself, and I bet you’re a lot better looking than you realize. You have friends. You have the ability to express yourself with eloquence. Not everyone has those things. Don’t let anyone tell you what you can’t be or do because of your fat…and please don’t tell me how I feel about mine.
I wonder if nomorefatty is an actual fat person or someone imagining what it would be like. It just seems kind of fishy.
Unfortunately in the third paragraph she pretty much nutshelled what 95% of fat chicks seem to think of 95% of ‘fat admirers’ (in this context using the term to mean a guy who actually finds a fat person attractive as opposed to merely tolerable). The average self-loathing fat woman is so repulsed by herself that she automatically considers any guy who shows an interest to be a weirdo or a perve, ESPECIALLY if that guy isn’t ‘buff’, popular, dressed in the latest fashion and all the other ultimately inconsequentially superficial things that women (like men) have been led by the media to believe they ‘deserve’ in a partner. I suspect that even if her hypothetical Brad Pitt type did approach her at a bar she may well dismiss him out of hand as ‘abnormal’ for showing an interest in her, and if so, how f*cked up is that?
But then you really can’t generalise about these things. I have a female acquaintance who in the conventional sense is absolutely drop-dead gorgeous yet has limited luck with men because they all assume that she must either have an ego the size of Texas or a complete lack of personality, or are quite simply intimidated by her. And just like a fat chick, she attracts assholes. I’m not sure anyone, however thin or popular or whatever, can just ‘pick anyone’. Dating and the whole bar pickup scene are complicated enough before the added issues that accompany being fat are factored in; I circumvented it all by using a (shock! horror!) BBW dating site, something nomorefatty and her FOBT probably sadly considers ‘beneath’ her.
As for the clothes thing, unfortunately both I (a guy) and my wife can attest to every word of it being true and it’s far and away the biggest obstacle to acceptance. People might dismiss that as vanity but it’s more complicated than that; clothes carry such symbolic value in our society that to be excluded from that whole sphere of life does limit opportunities and can make day-to-day activities pretty uncomfortable. Work, school social life, special occasions; whether one decides to conform or express their individuality all depend on having access to the correct clothing; lack of this frequently equals exclusion. Why else would the likes of MeMe and Tam Fry get so outraged at the suggestion of Torrid or plus-sized school uniforms besides the effect the current lack of opprotunities has as a weight-loss motivator?
I am also a lot more like you than like nomorefatty.
Back when I was an in-betweenie teenager (and felt worse about myself than I do now) I had a lot of trouble finding clothes because I’m only five foot two (or 1.57 meters). My skinny sister who is a little shorter than me has just as much trouble finding clothes that fit well as I do… my point is, it’s a sickness to blame yourself for not fitting the fashion industry. Hardly anyone is built like a dress dummy.
The times I’ve felt I was missing out socially because of my appearance have had more to do with my reluctance to have my tits half hanging out than with my size. I learned to accept that I am a modest introvert and stopped going to environments with a tit-based social economy. Problem solved!
I too hope that nomorefatty can lose her self-loathing and learn to love herself, whatever size she ends up.
Hi
There is about 90 members to that group and there are 30 experiences shared, that is a lot of negativity!! Even for the ones who successfully take the weight off and keep it off this is a bad state of mind to be in and I hope the ones who do not lose weight (most of them) do not continue with this dismal mindset for the rest of their lives.
William (I may not be 100% accepting of myself, but I am a champion of acceptance compared to them)
While I agree it’s painful and sad to read this story, and that it’s ultimately damaging to have it held up as the true experience of all fat people, there’s something about the notion that she’s just got to have an ‘awakening’ or work on her self-esteem that doesn’t sit quite right with me.
While fat-self-hatred appears as an individualised issue, it’s really a systematic cultural ideology. And while there’s much to be gained both individually and collectively by changing our own thinking, there’s also something about it that keeps the focus on the individual being somehow wrong – in society at large, her body is wrong; in fat acceptance, her mindset is wrong. (I know that’s not necessarily what anyone said, I’m drawing out the subtext here.) And I think that’s ultimately about as useful as telling someone with depression to “look on the bright side”.
I can feel a post coming on…
I’m with Bekbek –
It’s just such a polished litany of self-loathing, it sounds more to me like something a thin person would write while pretending to be a fat person. Some of the details don’t seem to be accurate – primary-coloured polyester sacks sounds more like 1970’s plus-sized hell than what’s available today.
So it’s either an exercise in creative writing, or I should be glad that, even at the (long-past) depths of teenage self-loathing, I never hated my body as much as nomorefatty does hers.
Like BekBek said up above, I also wonder if this was penned by a fat person as their true account, or if it is rather the imagined account of a fat person (or many fat people in one person). If it is a genuine account of one person though, it’s very saddening
I also perspire a lot, but it has nothing to do with my weight. I would perspire when I was in high school, at a typical weight, and I perspire now as a deathfatty! I take a folding fan with me, and tissues or hankies to dab at myself. I don’t really see any shame in it! I do live in Brisbane though, and for six months of the year everyone is a puddle of sweat!
Yeah, my mother, who’s never weighed more than 125 pounds in a nonpregnant state in her life, sweats buckets. It’s congenital, folks, not something you can avoid with more “discipline.”
My mom was also a total knockout when she was young. She could never just “pick anyone,” as in having squillions of Great Guys to choose from, and lamented her lack of real choices in a partner lots of times before she met my stepfather. That took about, oh, 15 years between the time she split up with my dad and then. What she DID have were lots of guys interested in her who looked great on paper, but who always had some…fatal flaw. Like, not being able to keep it in their pants around other women. Like, being manipulative douchenozzles. Like, being irrationally jealous. Like, being fucking DRUNKS. And so on.
This woman has never seen the other side of it. What if she married one of those so-called Great Guys in a thin state and then gained weight? After she’d already had a couple of kids and was more or less trapped with someone who wouldn’t touch her with a ten-mile dildo? That’s a far more common scenario than the fat chick who has to settle for dregs.
….I think the thing that strikes me the most is that she’s saying “You.” Dude, don’t second person me. You cnanot tell me what my life is like.
I feel sorry for her. Self hate is time consuming and hard work. Okay, so what if guys don’t buy her drinks in bars? So what if you don’t like stairs? Those things are no reflection on who you are as a person.
Wow. That brought back memories for me, painful memories. As in memories of the days before therapy and antidepressants. This woman may well have serious depression issues that haven’t been diagnosed and aren’t being treated. To those who think this looks too polished, too “woe is me”, depression can do that to a person. You start blaming all your sadness, all your perceived deficiencies, on your fat, not knowing that there may be something else going on. And the world around you will do the same thing, reinforcing the notion that obesity is causing all your problems. “Lose weight and gain confidence!” “Lose weight and you can wear these clothes!” “Lose weight and find the man of your dreams!” et cetera ad nauseam.
I hope that nomorefatty finds some way to make peace with herself.
One of my good friends is gorgeous – tall, long blond hair, naturally around a size 4 (US), beautiful, and a genuinely nice person. She and I (with a few other friends) go out to bars regularly, and I can say with fair certainty that she does not have drinks bought for her significantly more often than my (technically) obese self.
I suppose the only part I agree with is people judging my food choices, but then again, I’m past the point of caring. It crosses my mind sometimes, but really, it’s no one’s business but mine.
I also can’t decided if this account is that of an actual person or one imagined by someone who has never been fat. I do find it interesting that she defines obese as a size 28. I’m medically obese and wear a US size 12 – not even plus sized! I realize that I kind of “pass” for thin (or at least “normal”), but hell, I still step on the scale at the doctor’s office and get labeled obese. It’s not the same experience for everyone, and self hatred never helped anyone.
I’m a genuine fat woman [can supply photos] and I’m a feminist and I’m trying trying trying to not feel completely shit about myself (for my 30E bra sized partner as much as myself, who makes me feel totally inadaquate) and nomorefatty is EXACTLY how I feel, so please don’t patronise her (us?) by saying it’s a ‘creative writing’ exercise or an imagining of a thin person.
It’s the most precise example of how I feel I’ve ever read.
And I’m 20, so no 80s experiences for me.
Except that I barely sweat while thin partner has a bit of a complex about her sweat.
Please don’t pity me.
Actually, I don’t think this is made up: I’ve felt like this more times than I care to count (and her experiences with plus size clothes are spot on for this Kiwi Girl: the uglier the better seems to be the mantra of plus size retailers over here… those few who stock above a size 22, anyway. There is little that isn’t loud, garish, and badly made).
I can’t offer her any advice because I don’t know how to let go of this stuff myself.
Nomorefatty seems to have copy and pasted this same story in 3-4 other experiences, all of which have the word “fat” in it.
There is a different story but it’s p. much still the same song and dance.
GOD!! Even my experience list varies..
Maybe this is fake, but what I felt wasn’t. I did feel that way each and every single day of my life. I don’t feel that way anymore, but it took a lot of practice. So, yeah. Creative writing or not s/he nailed it from my perspective and if that is not the norm then I am extremely glad.
Way to go, Bri. Nomorefatty’s hatred of her fat is causing her the anguish, not the fat itself. She is still in the stage of blaming herself for what others think. Perhaps one day she will work through all that self-hatred and realise that she doesn’t have to live for the opinions of others, that fat is not a moral issue and that all she needs to do to be more confident is to release the shame. It IS down to her to make a change – but the necessary change is attitude not weight loss.
I hope that the poster can eventually own her experiences rather than putting them on “you”, distancing herself from her own body. But that’s exactly what our society teaches us to do – to make our lovely, lived-in bodies objects of shame and blame. Good luck to her, and to all of us, wherever we are in our journey.
“primary-coloured polyester sacks sounds more like 1970’s plus-sized hell than what’s available today”
Really? Where are you shopping? Please tell!
Anyway, this post (FLOG’s not nomorefatty’s) is right on. Just weighing in as a fat woman who also *knows* she is “natural” and “attractive” (though not accepted by all, but who is?) and is not “the problem” (except insofar as she procrastinates and has a hot temper) sweats less than most, got plenty of drinks bought for her back when she was single, and is married to the man of her dreams (who also happens to be fit and handsome – not that that’s essential to me, but there it is.)
Nomorefatty is totally right, however, about the clothes – I’ll give her that.
@ Electrogirl – I saw it as depression too. I guess it takes one to know one. Depressed thoughts can be very convincing to the self. She also comes up with a lot of supporting evidence as I did. I wish I could give her a hug. When I was deeply depressed I ruminated for hours on what was wrong with me.
She is stuck in a terrible feedback loop where she gets messages from almost everywhere that fat is bad.
Ulumuri – I mostly buy Making It Big’s all-cotton slacks in neutrals. Warning: they only carry from 2X to 8X.
Regarding the premise of Nomorefatty’s piece, I’m aware that my blog could be used as source material for those who want to see “OMG the horrors of obesity”. I’m going to keep posting, though, because I don’t think the facts are all that bad — if anything, getting the facts out there will likely disprove some myths.
Okay, I confess I googled.
Added weight or less muscle?
Because thin women’s feet never swell.
WTF? Does she even realize that thin computer jocks get this if they let their core muscles atrophy?
Because of course this is such a tragedy that the human race is dying off out of women avoiding pregnancy-related stretch marks.
…and of course it’s impossible to do anything about these without losing weight.
Wow is she ever depressed. Like her I have felt/thought/done many of these things but I don’t hate myself. She hates herself. I’m working on being ok with who I am at any size. She has given up hope, given up…period. So sad.
I really feel for nomorefatty, but having said that….
Im a short fat chick, and I have been married to a tall, painfully skinny (not thin, my man is almost a skeleton!) very cute man for the past 20 years.. over that time he has been approached by people (lets average it at 1 every 6 months) asking him how he can be with me. Chicks hit on him in front of me (Oh you cant be attracted to THAT one said) He has been accused of having a fetish he has been asked how we make love (quite well thanks!) Strangers just cant seem to accept we just love each other. Fat, thin, tall, short… it doesnt matter, its whats inside that counts.
I am the author of this original piece posted on experience project. I just wanted to say, to the author of this page, I can appreciate and thank you for your comments. I really do try to see both sides of the coin and although my self loathing was admittedly peaked on the day I originally wrote this, I don’t hate myself per se. All the things I wrote of were not instilled in me, by me. They are reflections, rather, projections put upon me by so called friends and those trying to “do the right thing” by telling me how “it is”. I grew up taught to love myself no matter what, but after being battered and beaten over the head with negativity I’m afraid it has rubbed off on me.
Please don’t misunderstand, I never intended my piece to be an overall representation of what it’s like for EVERY fat girl, it was MY take on it, and what I personally believe to be true.
Stigma and unkindness are terrible things to endure. You are lucky in that you were not subjected to the types of abuse I was from friends and strangers alike. I am working on trying to love myself harder, however, after many long years of loathing the very skin I am in, it takes a little practice.
Best Wishes to all…..oh, and I love your blog…big fan! Totally honored to be included!