The Horrific, Awful, Rotten Truth About Being Fat

Look! A fat cat!

You know, fat is pretty much the worst thing you can be.  It’s worse than kicking puppies or using the wrong your-you’re-yore.  It’s worse than war and worse than disease.

It’s not?

Oh yeah.  It’s not.

So why do we all get so hung up over being fat?  Either someone is hung up about it because they’re carrying too many pounds, or they’re all judgy because someone else is.  I have a thin friend who occasionally says that she’s “channeling her inner fatty” when she indulges in food cravings.  Once, I said that I was fat in front of a friend’s mother, and she said, “Oh, don’t say that.  That’s the worst word you can say.”

Really?  It’s worse than stupid?  Or boring?  Because I’d rather be called fat than stupid or boring.  But those are my priorities.

Look, I’m fat.  Not using the word doesn’t magically make me shed pounds.  When I was in high school, I was called fat (even though I looked amazing), so I squeezed into the smallest size jeans I could, bruising my internal organs and never being able to inhale.  I thought I looked great.  It wasn’t until years later, hearing the word “muffin top” for the first time, that I realized that perhaps jeans in a size larger would have been better.

I have a double chin.  It’s not contagious.  It’s not a moral failing.

I’d like to lose some weight.  I eat mostly vegetables and exercise.  I almost never sit still.  And I don’t lose weight.

I really hate how fat people are portrayed, and even worse, I hate that some of it’s true.  I recently read a book called The Big, Not-So-Small, Curvy Girls Dating Agency by Ava Catori.  I wanted to like the book, but the character spent most of the book drooling over a hot guy and feeling insecure because “guys like him don’t date girls like me.”  I know that for a lot of overweight women, that’s how it works; that’s how they feel.  And how sad is that?  That she’s simultaneously drooling over his looks and hoping he’s not so superficial that he won’t be put off by hers?

In Fried Green Tomatoes by Fannie Flagg (amazing book, by the way), the main character eats all the candy and junk food she can gets her hands on, complains about being “fat,” and at one point reveals she’s a size 16.  If I ate junk food the way she does, I’d probably be twice my weight.  Listen: not everyone who’s fat is fat because they eat junk food.  And not everyone who’s thin gets there by way of diet and exercise.

And who cares, anyway?

If you’re fat because you eat junk food and never exercise, who am I to judge you?  Why is that even part of any discussion?  Now, if you eat junk food because you feel lonely or depressed, that’s a different story.  That’s sad and I’d love for you to work on that so you don’t have to feel that way, BUT, it’s not judgement-worthy.  We all have choices.

I’ve mostly stopped being self-conscious about my weight.  Yeah, I have bad days, and sometimes I see pictures of myself taken at a bad angle, and hate the way I look.  But most of the time, I like the way I look.  It’s nice to be able to say that and mean it.

We get all hung up on the word “fat,” and honestly, I don’t mind it.  It’s accurate.  You can say “overweight,” and it still means the same thing.  Euphemisms don’t make the word mean something else.  It just means you’re trying to be politically correct and obscure what you really mean.

News flash: I know overweight means fat.  It’s okay.

Personally, I hate the word “obese.”  That one gets thrown around a lot because of BMI, and it makes me think of people who are so large they can’t get out of their homes.  But that’s not what obese means.  I’m obese, of course, but I have friends who look like they’re at “normal” weights who are technically “obese.”  *sigh*

We’re all different.  Shapes, sizes, colors.  It’s what makes the world go round.  Whether you’re fat or thin, tall or short, black or white or brown (or some shade in between), just be the best you that you can be.  Own it.

I sent this to a friend of mine:

And their response was: “So you’re beautiful.”

Best compliment ever.

Tune in for tomorrow’s tips about dealing with being fat.  And no, I’m not writing about exercise.

Bullying and Me

So yesterday, I wrote about my issues with being a vegetarian, and I talked a little about my weight struggles. In a moment of great timing, I saw a link to Bombshells Against Bullying on Stacy Pershall’s Facebook page. If you don’t know who Stacy Pershall is, she’s a wonderful author and advocate for mental health awareness and destigmatization. Her book, Loud In The House of Myself, discusses her recovery from Borderline Personality Disorder, probably the most stigmatized mental illness in existence.

But I digress.

I was reading the Bombshells Against Bullying page, where various women talk about their experiences with being bullied, so I’d like to share mine.

My first memory of being bullied was on the school bus. I was maybe 5 or 6, and pudgy, as I said yesterday. An older boy from church started calling me “Pigface,” and the name followed me for years. I remember I had a beautiful pink winter coat that was fuzzy. I loved that coat. A girl my age started chanting at me, “Hey ho Eskimo, don’t you eat that yellow snow. I thought I saw a doggy go.” Of course then the, “Ew, you eat yellow snow?” followed.

There were more incidents throughout the years. I’ve been called, “Elephant,” “Fido,” and many other things. The ironic thing about this is that I was really beautiful, and yeah, I had a few pounds on me, but I wasn’t that overweight. These days, I’m heavier than I’ve ever been, but I’m also more comfortable with my body than before. Would I like to be thinner? HELL YES. Am I going to stress about it or make it the focus of my life? I’m going to try not to.

I think we all need to focus on how we function. When I was struggling with stomach problems, I changed my eating habits in a way that worked for me. It wouldn’t work for everyone, but it worked great for me. I felt better and it fit my lifestyle. I love to hike and walk and swim, and I’m able to do those things. If my weight gets in the way of what I enjoy, THEN it’s a problem. If my weight affects my health, THEN it’s a problem.

I have great eyes, and people always ask me if I dye my hair because it’s such a cool color. My strengths are what is important. If it’s not a strength, that doesn’t mean it’s a weakness. Unless I allow it to be.

I’m a whole person, not just the sum total of my parts, and if I want others to treat me that way, then I need to treat myself that way. I used to wear baggy clothes that weren’t flattering because “I didn’t care how I looked.” But that was just defense. By not taking care of my appearance, I was trying not to care.

Recently, I went into Lane Bryant, Torrid, and New York and Company with a friend who dresses great and bought clothing that flatters my shape and makes me feel good about myself. If I feel better about how I look, then I feel better in general. I want to be a good role model for others, and the best way I can do that is to be me.

And in case you’re wondering if the bullying ended when I was a kid, it did, more or less. People learned in high school that I was too hard to bully to be bothered with. I cried when I was 5, but by the time they called me “Fido” in high school, I just rolled my eyes and told them to try to be a little more creative. However… about 6 months ago, I was at a buffet with an “average weight” friend of mine, and she was teasing me about how being a vegetarian is weird and I need to eat some meat. “Screw your vegetables,” she said. A random woman said, “I agree. You tell her.” I laughed until the woman continued, “And all the vegetarians I know are fat anyway.”
I didn’t say anything back because I was stunned. My feelings weren’t really hurt, but I realize that part of the reason for that is that I’ve internalized “fat” as part of my identity. But the fact that a grown woman thought that was okay to say to a stranger just tells me how far we still need to go in the fight against bullying.

*After I finished writing this post, I came across another article, Eight Things I Learned from 50 Naked People.  It relates to the topic of loving yourself, no matter your shape… I highly recommend it.  My favorite quote from the article:  “Your weight is the least interesting thing about you.”  -Kate Bartolotta

Vegetarianism, Rules, and Me

Two years ago, I decided to do a lifestyle change. I was having a lot of problems with my stomach, and I was opposed to medication that would mask, but not fix my problem. My doctor told me to read The Spectrum, by Dean Ornish, and I learned that I have a lot of unhealthy attitudes toward food.

I’ve been overweight as long as I can remember. I have a picture of me on my 7th birthday, standing beside my slim and neat best friend. I’m pudgy and pigtailed. I knew what the word “diet” was before I knew what calories were, and I’ve struggled with my weight my whole life.
There’s probably a mix of genetic and lifestyle reasons for my weight struggles. As much as I struggled with my weight as a teenager, on a perpetual “diet,” I look back at pictures and realize I was gorgeous. As much as I’m “obese” now, I realize that how I look isn’t as bad as I sometimes think. I have good days and bad days with that.

I ate the way I was taught, and thought it was the way you were “supposed to.” I never really liked meat, not as an every day thing. But I ate it, along with my potato or rice and my vegetable, because that’s how you’re “supposed to” eat. I was so programmed, and never thought to explore different ways. I was never into fad diets, but if I worked at dieting, I was always hungry. I never “went vegetarian” because I didn’t think I could stick to it forever and ever, never eating meat again.

After I read The Spectrum, I realized the rules I thought I knew were all just BS, and they weren’t right for me. I never liked meat, but I ate it because I wasn’t “a vegetarian.”

These days, I primarily try to avoid processed foods. I eat fish once or twice a month. I’ve eaten other types of meat 3 times in the past year. Twice, I had literally two bites of something to try it. I ate a steak on my birthday. The vegetarian police didnt come to get me. I haven’t lost any weight, but my stomach problems went away, and I have more energy.

I may have to resign myself to the fact that unless I want to be hungry all the time or spend a half hour a day in the gym, I’m going to be way overweight. I have more energy than most of my average weight friends and I never stop moving. I eat healthier than anyone else I know. I’ve (mostly) stopped using weight as a yardstick of health. It’s hard sometimes. I want to have flat abs and thighs that don’t jiggle, but I don’t think it’s ever going to happen. And I’m trying to be okay with that.