Confessions of a Fat Girl (Con-fat-sions?)
I live in terror of people seeing full-body images of me online. I get nervous about interacting with people who only know me online, where I can carefully filter what they see of me and how they see it.
I don’t want people to know I’m fat.
I hate my body.
I hate that I work to change it and nothing happens.
I hate that at one point I had made MAJOR changes to it and felt good about myself again…and then put all the weight back on and more and now can’t seem to lose it.
I hate that people believe pointing out my weight invalidates anything good or right I have to say or do in this world. I hate that I agree with them a lot of the time.
I hate that shopping is a chore. I hate trying to find clothing that fits correctly because either clothing isn’t made big enough for me or it is cut to fit one standard body type and the assumption is that I’ll want to wear a burlap sack to cover up everything WRONG with my body.
I hate trying to date with a body like this because I worry that any man who’s comfortable dating a woman of my size is a chubby-chaser who fetishizes something I truly hate about myself or is just under the assumption that I have low self esteem and will obviously settle for whomever offers to stick it in me and make me a wife and mother.
I hate that people assume I’m unhealthy because I’m fat. The only thing wrong with me IS that I’m fat. My blood pressure, blood sugar, heartrate, everything but the number on the scale is within the healthy range. There’s no medical reason for me to be this way. I hate that a lot.
I hate going to shows and doing interviews with bands because I’m sure the guys in said band will be shit talking me as soon as I leave. “Oh God, you know that FAT GIRL who interviewed us? Probably just some FAT FANGIRL who got lucky and got a pass.” I hate that I don’t believe they can see past my weight.
I hate that I don’t believe anyone can see past my weight. I hate that a lot of the time I can’t see past it. I hate that I feel like the size of my clothing and the number on my scale define me.
I hate that I know at least one person is going to take advantage of this to make snarky remarks about my weight, if they even see this. I hate that I’m even mentioning them here. I hate that they’ll miss the point of all of this.
I hate fat acceptance because to me it just seems like giving up. I hate that the reason I feel this way is because I truly believe being fat is something WRONG with me that needs to be fixed. I hate that I know how terrible that sounds. But I don’t hate warning people not to try that FA shit on me. If it works for you? Great. It just depresses me further.
I hate that people might end up replying to this with weight-loss tips or “OMG JUST KEEP TRYING!” They will probably hate my replies to that sort of thing.
I hate that I’m posting this.
I hate that I’m pretty sure I’m not alone.