Now That I’m Fat…
I actually hate the abundance of cute little words to describe overweightness: plump, rounded, curvy, roly-poly, rubenesque, generous, BBW, padded, comfortable, chunky…adipose-enhanced? I despise them all. Having too many words for something is always a good clue that it’s a socially uncomfortable reality we don’t want to deal with.
And by ‘deal’ with, I don’t mean get thinner. I have no intention of getting any thinner. I figure staying fat is one of the few revolutionary acts I can get away with anymore. It’s the one concrete way I can respond to a monstrous and immensely profitable economic structure which is hell bent on making me feel bad about my body. Admittedly, I am not morbidly obese. I’m not in any danger of developing diabetes, or over-taxing my heart. I can sprint up stairs when I need to, and run for the bus (albeit with a bit more jiggle than before – and I figure the jiggle happens with age anyway.)
When I was young, I was thin and insane. Literally. I was skin and bones and bipolar as fuck. At the age of 28, I was prescribed Tegretol, which contributed enormously to stabilizing my moods, but had the unfortunate side-effect of slowing my metabolism to a crawl. After my regimen of meds, it didn’t seem to matter whether I consumed 800 or 2000 cals a day, or whether I worked out 4 times a week in a gym or not. The slowly accumulated weight won’t shift.
Concurrently, western society has become more and more obsessed with thinness. After years away from the west, I cannot begin to explain how shocked I was to find that, in the US, there is a dress-size called ‘0’ – and millions of women yearn to claim it as their own.
I admit, I didn’t take to being fat very well for a while. To begin with, if you’ve spent almost 30 years of your life being thin, you’re stuck with this indelible body-image of a thin little thing that has woken up, like poor Gregor in Metamorphosis, in this strange carapace that fundamentally feels like it doesn’t belong to you.
People assume that fat girls just love eating. This isn’t strictly true. Although I like the taste of food, I’ve never been a big eater. I’ve never crept down to my fridge at 3 am to eat a whole chocolate cake or even a slice of it. I have never cared enough about food to bother getting out of bed for it. I can go for a day without eating and just not notice. It’s not that I don’t like it. Other things excite me more.
People also assume that fat girls have no self-discipline. This isn’t true either. I’m a fascist – and I don’t use that word lightly. I have insane amounts of self control. With two notable exceptions – expensive underwear and cigarettes. But considering the myriad addictions I might have as a weak-willed tubby, according to urban legend, that is the totality of my indulgences.
It took me about ten years to stop bumping my hips against chairs and tables and giving myself horrible bruises. I think this is because, for at least half of my existence as a fat girl, I thought I was thin. Inside, I still had a mental image of a sylph-like boyish creature navigating through the world of immovable objects.
I spent a number of years miserable and confused that my inner reality did not accord with my external one. It wasn’t until I went in for a bra fitting that reality truly struck me. I had jumped 3 cup sizes, from an A to a D. I stood there in the changing room with the blue-rinsed, older changing-room attendant thinking: wow, fuck me! I have TITS. And I do. I have truly magnificent breasts. If I fill the bathtub up enough, they actually bob in the water. All plump and creamy and fecund. Like the most immaculately made Chinese steamed buns.
The other thing I noticed was a distinct lack of wrinkles. Now that I’m 50, I’m expecting the crows feet and the laugh lines, and the turkey neck, but they’re astoundingly absent. And I know if I were the 85lbs I used to be, they’d be there in force. Finally, there’s the skin. It’s very, very soft. I had rougher skin when I was young and thin. Perhaps it’s because I’m being constantly oiled from the inside out? Who knows.
Just about the time I started to actually, physically KNOW that I was fat and began to think it wasn’t such a bad thing after all – between the tits and the smooth skin (not to mention that my ass has stopped going to sleep on the back of a motorcycle) – I also began to notice how much effort society was putting in to make me hate it.
Moreover, I began to notice all the ways I could spend my money in a desperate effort to be thin. I could get liposuction, a personal trainer, go to health-spas where they feed you nothing but wheatgerm at $900 per day. There’s a whole line in women’s clothing to suck you in, and redistribute all the adipose tissue into a more pleasing form. Support hose, tummy-flattening underwear, t-shirts with build in bras. Not to mention the toning machines, the stretch mark cream, the cellulite serums.
There’s a huge industry out there dedicated to making me feel terrible about myself so I will buy something they’re selling. It is in their interest to ensure I don’t lapse into a sinful state of plump self-satisfaction. Every magazine, every ad, every in-store standee, every celebrity tabloid, every porn film.
“This,” they all shout, “is what you should aspire to, and we can help you achieve your goal (the one we’ve set for you) for just $9.99 for a limited time only *conditions apply.”
I’m not going to even begin to numerate the ‘medicalized’ side of this whole effort. It’s obscene.
The reality is I have come to like the body I’m in. It is warm and comfortable. It is soft and tactile. It’s generous and takes a good firm spanking with no fear of internal damage. I’m still immensely flexible. I can still race you up the escalator. My orgasms feel just as good as they did when I was thin, and they happen a good deal faster and with more frequency (although that is probably just due to dedicated practice).
And I’m perfectly capable of getting laid if I want to. That’s the other myth. The one not only perpetuated by the media ad nauseum, but repeated over and over by fat girls to each other. That fat girls don’t get sex.
Most fat girls don’t get sex because they believe no one wants to fuck them. So they don’t boldly saunter up to someone and say: “Wanna fuck?” Admittedly, if you are a fat girl, you might have to lower your sights below the Adonis level, but I’ve noticed that most Adonises are so obsessed with themselves in bed, they’re lousy fucks. And anyway, did you want a nice oil portrait, or a couple of hours of mutual pleasure? And if there is a tad more audible smacking of flesh going on, well, personally, I’ve always found that hot. The point is… fat girls don’t get laid because they don’t ask. And the whole ‘thin-world-order’ depends on the fact that you won’t; their banking on it, literally. Because if you got laid fairly regularly, you’d probably start to reassess whether you are all that imperfect at all. And that would mean a huge plunge in sales for them.
I recognize that it is not healthy to be massive. It makes you more susceptible to certain grave physical illnesses. And I do think that eating less processed food is better for you. It tastes better, it makes you feel better. If most of your diet consists of sugar, fat and processed carbs, you need to think about changing that. Not to get thinner, but to get healthier. That being said, 70 years of happy life is a shitload more valuable than 90 years of misery.
There are a lot of things to make us miserable in the world. There is ignorance and poverty and prejudice and violence and corruption. There is greed and hatred and a lot of downright nastiness. Your weight… is just not that important. Don’t let a global industry aimed at making you feel inferior persuade you that it is.
I couldn’t agree more. I love my curves.
I reckon you could redress the balance with the skin observation. I know I look younger than my skinny peers. Skin is one of the first things, biologically speaking, that we look at in our sexual partners as an indicator if health.
The ideal figure to aspire to IMO is ‘farmer’s wife’. When I was an holistic therapist I had a couple of women in this role in the salon. They had the most beautiful skin I’ve ever seen. Peachy smooth and rosy cheeked.
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The pressure for women to achieve the size zero ideal has created huge amount of unhappiness and poor mental health.
Not to mention that for a significant portion of the male population their response to size zero women is “please, just go eat a sandwich!”. So the drive to slim does not even guarantee finding a partner, let alone one who is not image obsessed.
People need to re-examine what they define as positive body image and what they require to find happiness. By all means eat better and exercise, but it will not make you happier, liking what you see in the mirror will.
And by the way, from the images you have shown, I would not say you qualify to use the word fat. Your just perfectly normal as defined by anyone not sucked into the size zero garbage.
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I think being a self-hating, cranky, defensive bag of insecurities pretty much guarantees you won’t find one. And if you do, they won’t stay. Hell, I wouldn’t.
As to whether YOU think I’m fat or not, or someone fatter thinks I’m thin, I can assure you, by all the current standards of optimal female body size, I am fat.
By my own standards, I don’t do comparisons. And if I ever spend more than about 10 minutes naked with myself, I usually get distracted with a quick wank. So… you know, in my own little universe, I have become sort of ajudgmental.
About 6 month ago, I finally got so fed-up with disliking my shape I forced myself to go for full body, completely naked massages everyday for a month. That cured me good. Resignation can be a very positive state of mind.
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>>>As to whether YOU think I’m fat or not
My personal opinion, and I freely admit it is of no relevance, is that you’re not.
What I was trying to say however is that all the external judgments range from irrelevant to insane because they will never match your internal body image. It’s like pasting a sauce label on a tin of beans, pointless!
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Can I suggest that, as I have not given you a single clear full-length image to judge that from, your desire for me NOT to be fat is an interesting one. Why do you need to tell me I’m not?
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Sorry, had not noticed this reply.
My desire to tell you not probably comes from the dialog I have with my better half. Who struggles with both the weight issue and the spiral of mental self harm and abuse that it can cause.
The problem with the label fat is not the word itself but the negative associations it connects to and reinforces in the individual. Fat for me is just a reminder to eat less biscuits and drink less beer so I can fit my jeans comfortably. Fat for many others is a confirmation of their worst negative images and thoughts about themselves.
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I think there ARE men who feel the women they are with are accessories, and being accessories, they should conform to some ideal in the same way their watch or their car does, but really… who the fuck wants to be with a person like that?
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I’m about 125 pounds heavier than I was as a teen. At one point, I was seriously underweight and, yeah, seriously undersane. I understand what it takes to lose weight and not be a fat bastard, and I’ll do it if I feel like it. Right now, I don’t feel like it. I’m about 75 pounds over what is supposed to be my ideal weight.
Truly, I love food and alcohol. I crave both sweets and proteins. I love cider, sweets, and carbs too much for the paleo diet (not that it’s really based on science anyway) and I hunger for meat too much to be a vegetarian. Food provides a great deal of pleasure for me. Last week, I made a pan of rice krispy treats and killed the whole fucking thing by myself in maybe three days. I’m not one to eat and then feel self-loathing. I eat and then think how much I enjoyed what I just ate. I love to try new and exotic foods. I hate going to restaurants with bland, American faux-fine-dining food. Right now, my favorite place is a Mexican restaurant, but I’m looking forward to a chicken cheesesteak this afternoon. We may make some oven fries (I guess they aren’t really fries if you bake them. I’d say oven chips if I was in the UK I guess) to go with them.
Not to sour grapes it, but I do notice a lot of skinny people being somewhat uptight. I know I was when I was skinny. Suicide rates tend to be significantly lower for heavier people.
People have recommended the benefits of both gastric bypass and Atkins/Paleo/low-carb diet of the week to me. I’m not interested. Most of the people I know who had bypasses had to go in for additional surgeries.And after a gastric bypass, you have to closely monitor your eating anyway, so…why not just monitor your eating and then surgery is not needed? Regarding the low card diets, yeah, they work great, but then everyone packs the weight right back on. Diets are correlated with weight gain.
Regarding fat girls not getting laid, is that even the case? Seriously, is there data to show that heavier women have less sex than thin ones? I am curious. I think that people who work really hard to be thin tend to be very self-conscious, which can be a detriment during sex. Also, people who spend a great deal of effort at being thin and/or athletic sometimes resent others who do not value thinness as much (one anorexic woman at the gym positively glares at my wife).
Regarding guys and fat girls, I think this is complicated. My (highly unscientific) theory is that the higher the socioeconomic bracket, the thinner the men like their women, or more precisely, the thinner they SAY they like their women. I think, in the lower brackets, we are simply more honest in our appreciation of big butts and boobs. For some men, it is as though they are ashamed to admit their attraction to sexual features, and so they claim to like a more boyish figure for women. Maybe I am only justifying my own bias. But I do think that sometimes men may seek a thin mate based upon the social ideal of thinness.
There are some features that universally turn men off, but these seem to be related to evolution-derived aversions to poor health (and thus poor reproduction prospects). But a certain body mass is not one of these. It is not a universal preference. It’s just made up.
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Wow, your theory on socioeconomic brackets don’t hold for Clinton 😉
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Ha! Emphasis on the size they SAY they like.
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Knowing who you are and accepting it creates a beauty all its own. I think you are quite
stunning.
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I do okay 😛
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Reblogged this on dazedeye and commented:
Gawd, I fucking love this woman! *eats another sandwich*
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I was going to write you an extremely long comment… but actually I think I need to respond by writing a piece of my own. Thank you. This is truly a magnificent piece of writing; and the photos definitely help too.
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Pingback: Terms of Fatness - (It Girl. Rag Doll)(It Girl. Rag Doll)
found this through squeaky commented there because i didnt notice it was reblogged *embarressed*
“YEEEEHAW!!!! I have so much to say about all this that I’m going to have to respond on my own blog lol. Here’s to being comfortably fat! :D”
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I’m a fat girl too, and I love it!
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I love this entry. I’m sure you already know how I feel about fatness.
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I agree with this blogger totally! I still want to drop a few pounds, (at least a good 30) but I know that being fat is one reason I look younger than most 43 year old women. What you said about Adonises is funny. Ironically, the hunky muscular men don’t even have as good sex as average looking guys, because they insist on fucking skeletons. 🙂
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I heartily apologize…but I suppose I’m curious what you define as your being “fat”. From the pics you’ve posted of yourself, you are not what I would deem “fat” by any definition of the word. I’m currently 5’9″ and 330 pounds. I wear anywhere from a size 22-26 in a US women’s cut garment, depending on the day and I’ve been over a size 18 my entire adult (and teen) life. While I agree with a huge percentage of what you’ve written above, the co-opting of the term “fat” as some banner of rebellion by average-sized women (have you ever been called horrific names out on the street? Been so overweight you couldn’t fit in a classroom chair or a rollercoaster ride? Been denied healthcare coverage due to your weight?) is problematic for a number of reasons. I’d die to have the thighs you picture above. In recent years I’ve seen a huge percentage of my truly fat girlfriends (yannow, those of us who can only shop in Lane Bryant), go from BBW princesses and queens to a variety of sizes, mostly thanks to bariatric surgery (and related reconstructive surgeries) and my feelings about this have been all over the place. It’s endemic of what is happening to truly fat women, who have been truly fat for years, decades, their entire lives. For us, living in current Western society is a lot more complex than just non eating wheatgerm, not eating cake in the middle of the night, and having size D breasts.
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Glad to see you have the energy to put in to the battle over who is REALLY fat. So – I don’t know what you’d like me to say, Diane. You out-fat me. You win. Now what?
Maybe you have time to fight over the who’s fatter than who. Who gets to use the term. Who doesn’t ‘deserve’ to use the word because they’re not as fat as you.
If this is where you feel your best efforts are to be spent – on blogs comparing dress sizes – well, good luck to you.
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I share this in good fun, because it sounds like an analogous discussion:
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Beautifully written!
A recent quote from JK Rowling said, “Is ‘fat’ really the worst thing human being can be? Is ‘fat’ worse than ‘vindictive’, ‘jealous’, ‘shallow’, ‘vain’, ‘boring’, or ‘cruel’? Not to me.” I couldn’t agree with that more. To be honest, this is another reason it’s hard for me to lose weight. While I know that physically it’s unhealthy for me, I actually don’t mind the way my body looks for the most part. It’s soft and smooth and squishy. At least, out of clothes. I dunno about anyone else, but I for one, am far more comfortable being completely nude than being in a bathing suit or in clothing that pulls and gathers and bunches!
I’m a fat girl and have been my whole adult life. But I didn’t realize it or start feeling fat until 6 or 7 years ago. I’m 5’10” and technically “morbidly obese” by medical standards, I guess. I weighed 155 when I graduated high school in 1993 and hit 200 right around age 20. Currently I am 264, but working my way down from my all-time high weight of around at least 305 (after the scale said 297, I didn’t step on it again, although I know I gained more after that) a couple/few years ago. The lowest I’ll go is 175-180, but really all I care about is being under 200, even if it’s maintaining 199.9 for the rest of my life.
I want to lose weight, but not because of what society and media says. Like I said, I don’t mind the way my body looks, for the most part. From the front or back, anyways. From the side is something else entirely! But I don’t like the way it feels, the toll that being heavy takes on me. The way my knees and ankles hurt from doing too much. My lower back pain. I hate having a double chin and an upper belly and thighs that touch unless they’re spread wide open. I have some fat-girl health issues like PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome) and constant armpit and groinal yeast infections on my skin. And most of all, I think I’m just tired of wearing fat-girl clothes. Sure, they make some cute stuff for big girls now, but they are still obviously fat-girl clothes. Also, I’d like to learn to walk in heels gracefully without having to worry about balancing 250 lbs on these ankles. I’d like my head to not look like a potato in my drivers license photo.
What I really wish is that ‘fat’ wasn’t deemed such a negative description. I get so tired of people telling me that I’m not fat, like I’m talking down about myself. It’s just a fucking adjective, people. Stop pinning your hangups on me! While I’ve never been out of the US, it’s my understanding that this is the only country in the world that gives ‘fat’ such a negative connotation. Yes, there is an unhealthy obesity epidemic in this country. But carrying a little, or even a lot of, extra weight shouldn’t carry the social stigma that it does.
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Also relevant, perhaps. A snippet from my OkC profile:
You may not be able to tell from my pics, but I’m a fat chick. Just to let you know. I get a lot of guff for saying that but I’m not down on myself, just realistic. Fat is just a descriptor, an adjective. I don’t subscribe to the negative connotations associated with it. Yes, I sometimes describe myself as voluptuous, but not to protect my ego. It’s just an accurate description that conveys a woman who is sexy and sensual and comfortable with her own curves. I may not necessarily like being a fat chick, but I’m mostly okay with it, because I am mostly height-weight proportionate. Nobody ever believes how much I weigh. I know I won’t always be this way. One day in the not-too-distant future, I’ll be one of those trim über-health nuts. Just not today.
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Well, Tonya, I hope you succeed in losing the weight you want to lose, not for what anyone else thinks, but for you; for your health and your sense of well-being. I think that is really the only really compelling reason to bother.
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I have a thing for curvy women. And I don’t mean that as a code-word for BBW or fat: I really, honestly, love curves. I love hips. Shoulders. Rounded thighs. Plump breasts. Full, soft, bellies.
Larger women tend to have better curves – but the truth is, I’m pretty non-discriminatory when it comes to size. Tall, fat, skinny, I worship at an altar that is more concerned with how well you own your body, than it’s density.
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I have to agree that ‘ownership’ is really ultimately the issue. I spent many years trying to ignore my body because it did not fit my understanding of what it should be. At some point, I came to realize that, as my body is the sensory portal to my experience of the world, trying to ignore it is tantamount to going through the world wrapped in a thick wadding of cotton wool – all experience is muted. It’s half a life.
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Remember me?
My god, it’s been a long time since I looked through your dark window…yet you are ever beautiful. Only you could send my soul skimming through the stars. I delight at your words. You shake me. You spread me out.
My mind enjoys your mind.
My flesh celebrates you.
Magdelena
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Of course I remember you. And thank you for saying that.
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It’s just that, isn’t it. Aligning your internal image of yourself with the reality. I am bigger than I’d like. Not than society would like. But than I feel comfortable being. But it’s not about weight for me. It’s about muscle tone. I mind. Because it is something that is different than vanity. It’s about health. And frankly, I need to give up smoking again before I beat myself up about anything else. There are worse things to do to your body than carry a bit more weight than you did as a child. And when I did lose a pile of weight, quite accidentally, what was lovely and reassuring, was that normal people don’t want you to be a size zero. They take it as a sign that you’re unhappy or ill or over-worked and express concern. The media can try all they like to create an unhealthy norm. Most people understand that pictures are photo-shopped and food tastes better than dietary supplements.
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I have to disagree there. Media generated objects of desire (as little or as much as they’re photoshopped) ARE the measure by which many people judge themselves and others. Especially women.
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In young people I see the impact as much on boys as girls. But in my peer group, whilst we see the perfection portrayed, I find an awareness that the ideal often results from an unrealistic or obsessive lifestyle and that people would rather be living than preening. Just my direct experience. The industry clearly makes it’s money somewhere so I guess my viewpoint is not at all correct. 🙂
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From a fat girl – love what you have written here…..
~Mia~ xx
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Love it, well done. Have nothing else to say.
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Never mind fat. Can we talk about sagging tits?
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Oh please, let’s not. I can only adjust to one thing at a time.
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I love this! Thanks so much for this post. I followe a friend here from Facebook and I am so glad I did. I love my smart friends 🙂
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Beautifully said.
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This was an excellent read! You have total clarity a the most healthy perspective and self image one could have! I am so glad I read this!.
The one statement that really hit me was”70 years of happy life is a shitload more valuable than 90 years of misery”! This is the the way we need to live!
Thank you!
P.S. if your not busy I’d be interested in……
LMAO!
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From a fetishist perspective, I love woman who can put a corset or an OBG to good use…just saying! There’s nothing wrong with that is there?
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Pingback: Terms of Fatness - (It Girl. Rag Doll)
Great story, and I think you look so much more beautiful at your current weight – ultra feminine!
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