fat girl chutzpah (or lack thereof), masks, boobs and interviews.
It may come as a surprise to some of you that I am not always a confident fat chick. I am always a fat chick but not always a confident one.
Lately I have been struggling with this lack of self confidence and, as it has in the past, my feelings about my weight enter into my assessment of my own self worth. Yes, I have come a long way in the last couple of years (since I discovered Fat Acceptance) but (like Tiger Woods) I am still human and I still fall prey to the all consuming social ideal of ‘thin’ from time to time.
Last Saturday night I went to a masked Ball known as Cirque Noir, organised by a committee of pagans (many of whom I consider my friends) and it was a great night. There were all manner of costumes, more cleavage than I have seen in one place for a looooong time, great music, yummy finger food and wonderful company. I had a fantastic time and I felt good in what I was wearing (I did a Gothic Lolita sort of look).
Until I saw the photographs from the night.
And then I didn’t feel so good about myself.
The thing is, I KNOW I am fat. I have no qualms about that. But I guess I don’t ‘feel’ as fat as I actually am, so when I see a photograph of myself, it is a bit of a shock. Not so much because of the fat (although yes, that can be confronting) but because I don’t look the way I think I look. I don’t look the way I feel.
I will get past this momentary lack of confidence, it has happened before so it is no stranger to me. But it is confronting to feel this way when it flies in the face of everything I actually believe and totally contradicts the way I think of/feel about other fat people…
Then on Sunday I had my first ever professional bra fitting (yes, yes, I know, at 36 years of age and having had two pregnancies and breastfed for a combined 3 1/2 years, I should have had many many fittings but I just haven’t). Turns out I am not a 20 D at all. I am in fact an 18 F. Not only is the F bit a surprise to me but the thought of being an 18 in anything is also boggling my mind. I knew I had gone down a shirt size in the last 12 months (to a 22) but didn’t figure on the bra thing. So now I have a drawer full of gorgeous bras that don’t actually fit me…
I have also decided I need to do something to stretch my muscles, my legs in particular. So I am looking for plus size pilates dvds. Anyone got any recommendations?
AND
On Thursday I have an interview for the Research Fellowship I applied for a little while back. It is a paid position for 12 months to research my own project. My proposal centred around the experience of fat people with the health/medical profession and if it is that relationship that actually influences the supposed inflation of health costs in relation to fatties rather than actual health problems themselves. Please cross fingers and all other available appendages for me as I really, really want this position.
crikey if it was cleavage you needed ya shoulda just called me!
i know EXACTLY how you feel.
i think that we do have this whole “image” of ourselves, and despite all our varying levels of confidence and self acceptance (or lack thereof), it’s the disparity between what we FEEL (which can be that monumental sexiness where our fat becomes an invisible thing) and the reality captured on film, and it is within the lacuna between the two states of perception that the real problem within lies: we don’t want our sexy feeling to be blurred by our extra healthy bits.
it sucks.
anyway.
sending you a big smooshy hug, and i have every confidence in you regarding the RF – let me know if you want me to be a guinea pig!
oh yah and isn’t it funny re the bras! don’t throw your sexy ones out though – all bras are different shapes and sizes and someone’s 20D is someone else’s 18F… and in some cases a 22 DD! it’s all a mystery! i just think they’re lovely!
xx
pilates won’t stretch you! you’ll need to stretch AFTER pilates. trust me, your core will be screaming.
If you learn well from books, I’d suggest the picture-laden Megayoga book from Megan Garcia. She also has a DVD which is pretty good, but the book has a wider variety of positions.
Every time I see a picture of myself taken by someone other than myself I always have to check the mirror. I know it’s me but I don’t feel as fat as I am. At near to if not at 300 pounds, I run around with friends (about to be running around Disneyland for a friend’s birthday), laugh and jump and climb stairs and dance, go for walks with my dogs and stay up late with my brother, and I sit and watch TV and be lazy sometimes. So when I look at a picture and see the lovely roundness of me, I’m taken aback. Sometimes I’m taken aback with how amazing I look. Sometimes I wonder where the photographer found those beady eyes and extra, extra chin to slap on me.
I mean, I’m AWARE of my weight. I’m careful to test the sturdiness of chairs before I sit. I often stop and stare at the desks provided at my college and wonder how I’ll fit,and I don’t dance on tables. I know I’m big. But it boggles me that I look that way. I AM fat, but I don’t feel like the stereotypical fat person is supposed to feel according to the media.
I am crossing all available appendages on your behalf, and look forward to reading about your project! Also I definitely feel you about the pictures thing — I can’t remember a time in my life where my default feeling about having my picture taking wasn’t cringing at how awful I would look. Not because I’m necessarily all down on my appearance, all the time, just because I almost never look like myself in pictures. I’ve mostly decided that it’s okay, especially since realizing that I almost always look like myself in the mirror, and even when I’m not feeling entirely myself, I still almost always feel better than I think most pictures of me look. Which is saying something, considering my propensity for depression and being my own worst critic and all that. It is saying that I really, really do not like pictures of myself. Or (non sequitur!) bra shopping. But I am still most envious of your professional fitting adventures.
Photographs are a two-dimensional representation of a three-dimensional subject – namely, you
. And in the translation from two to three dimensions, a lot of the depth and dynamism of the actual subject gets lost…which our eyes tend to translate as width. So no, photographs are not always an accurate representation of what we look like. They don’t exactly lie, more like create an optical illusion.
So maybe some of it is the difference the way you feel vs. the way the camera captured you, but some of it just may be how technology translates what it sees.
And my heart breaks for your drawerful of bras that don’t fit. I have one, too
. I miss some of them.
Yes, yes, yes!
I’m dreading Christmas because despite the all the effort to present glossy hair, long lashes, heaving bosom, pouty lips and pretty dresses, it all counts for nothing when the photos come back.
Just as Lexie Di said, I’m aware of my size, it pervades my every thought, but I don’t recognise the person in the photos. I can’t even look at the stranger in my wedding video – the bride in my mind’s eye had a graceful gait, a waist and even subtle cheekbones!
I’m just so glad you wrote this as I thought this was just happening to me – knowing I’m not alone really helps – thank you so much.
I hate candid pics. I like people to give me a moment to gather myself before they take my photograph. It just makes me feel ready and composed and presented. I never like candid pics of myself when I see them – I always feel they don’t show the real me, but the bits of me that are in between the moments of the real me. I don’t need to be perfect in posed photos, but I like to CHOOSE how I am in photos. I can be silly or “unflattering” but at least I chose that way.
Sometimes I need to metaphorically sit with a photo for a bit before I like it too. I have to get used to myself shown at that angle, or with that expression, because I don’t see myself that way. Other people do, but I see myself at different moments.
Ok this probably doesn’t make sense but it is 30C at 10.30pm!
I have to agree with the pictures, so often I feel a sense of shock when I see pictures because it was not at all how I was picturing myself in my head, sometimes it is a positive thing as in I am shocked I looked so hot, sometimes it is disappointing. Kath I totally understand the idea of having to sit with a photo for a bit before I start liking it. that has happened to me a bit.