To be fat is to be like an alien

… except aliens get to be skinny.

That’s not a metaphor. I’m being literal.

As in, I feel like E.T. No one understands what I’m trying to say.

This post has been building up inside me like a freaking volcano. I don’t know if it’s a rant or not. I hope that it will be legible and that someone will get something out of reading it because I am going to be completely honest and probably very politically incorrect.

I love you guys. You leave me comments telling me that skinny people have no soul and that they eat cotton balls and you make me smile. Also very politically incorrect but we laugh, right?

And I know I’ve been writing a lot of posts directed at thinner girl/women who think they know me (if becoming thin isn’t that hard then getting out of debt isn’t either, skinny. So get a freaking job, pay off those Pradas and stop criticizing my “unhealthy” and “sedentary”, read: actually low-carb and active, lifestyle).

Okay, I’m ‘fraid to say that this one is going to go along the same lines. Except it’s geared towards a different type of skinny girl. The defensive skinny girl. The being-fat-ain’t-so-bad-so-stop-trying-to-change-the-world skinny girl. You’d think that skinny girls would know the pitfalls of being fat. That’s why they’re so skinny, right? Not so much.

Fuck, this will be a story. I hope I’ll take the time to come back and read this one day. It’s not even about being understood. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to adequately express how I feel being who I am right now through words or images or anything. Unless you can relate to me, you’ll never know. If you are anyone, a woman, a man, brown, black, white, whatever- and you have always been within the predominant barriers of what is… (how the hell do I say this?) normal to look like, then you won’t get it ever. But hopefully, you have an open mind and you’ll try.

I remember a few years ago, I stumbled across a classmate crying in the bathroom because a teacher asked her if she was anorexic. “Tara” had always been skinny, extremely skinny, but still looked nothing like the emaciated models I’m talking about. She cried a little, her friend comforted her and in a few minutes she was back in class going about her usual business. A few days later, I asked her if she was alright. She looked a little confused about what I was referring to and when I mentioned the incident, she just smiled nicely and replied that it just “gets me sometimes”. She adjusted her size 00 skirt and walked away, chattering to her friend about her new car.

The smile was frozen on my face.

I felt bad for her. I honestly still do. The other girls in the toilet looked affronted but I could see that the tears were genuine. I did feel bad. I feel bad for girls who are targeted because they are too thin. I feel bad for anyone who feels sensitive about something they can’t change. My friend always had a complex about her red hair, another one had a scar on her arm… but weight is a little different. Being overweight all my life, I know this. So that day, I asked my sister a question (who has a BMI that classifies her as underweight. Seriously, this girl has legs that go on forever). I asked her if she was ever hated on or called anorexic because of how skinny she was. Her response?

“Yeah but they’re usually just jealous and at least I’m not fat”

Like previously with Tara, I was surprised about her attitude. Was my sister overly self-confident? Not really. And Tara usually spent most of her time flaunting her waif-like body. Both girls were beautiful and if they didn’t think so, they sure did a hell of a job faking it.

I’m writing this post because I feel as if I am largely misunderstood. Any place I see articles criticizing underweight models and society’s obsession with looking stick thin, I see women angrily stating that they have always been underweight and that no one has a right to call them disgusting or anorexic. They say that they are sick of hearing how unappealing it is to be them and how tragic it is that they are looked down on by today’s society. It’s happened on my own posts too. I am not upset at the women who are upset because they have been prodded about their weight. I am upset at those women who think that because they have been victimized, it has levelled the playing field and now all of us fatties and too-skinnies can hold hands and sing kumbaya.

First of all, I want you to know what, in my mind, is classified as disgusting…

• Not Tara or my sister
• Not anyone who eats but has always been naturally skinny
• Someone who doesn’t eat and substitutes daily feedings with small amounts of nuts, Coca Cola, cocaine or anything unhealthy.
• Someone whose body fat is practically non existant and has their ribs, shoulder blades, kneecaps and various bones jutting out of their skin. Please don’t tell me that you are “naturally” skinny and exhibit all of those symptoms. We all know, short of being extremely ill, that’s not true.

So there you have it. Thatis what is disgusting to me. In terms of someone being naturally skinny, I will never say something insensitive like “omg you’re so skinny, I hateeee youuu!”. I will never tell a skinny girl that she looks too thin or sickly. Because in my opinion, naturally thin girls have gorgeous bodies.

Now here is where my issue lies… I understand that some of these naturally skinny girls may have been insulted by people with comments like these. I appreciate that they are hurtful and I am sorry that they felt demeaned by someone like that.

What I don’t appreciate is how they feel that they can relate that on an equal level to how a fat girl feels about her weight.

Before I say this, I want you to know that there are worse things than being fat and that many women find it in themselves to accept it. But for most, that answer doesn’t work. I guess I’ll explain more about it later.

I’ll tell you now because if you are thin, you may never know.

You will never ever ever know what it feels like to be overweight unless you have experienced it. You will feel things that you have never felt before, you will fall to an ultimate low and pick out flaws in yourself (mentally and physically) that you did not give a rat’s ass about before.

Being fat is not about an insensitive comment, a cry and then recovery. It isn’t apaper cut. It doesn’t heal. Being fat is like a constant disease. This is why I was surprised at my sister’s reaction. It wasn’t the “at least, I’m not fat” comment. It was the fact that she was so dismissive. If only I could be dismissive.

I can’t.

Because when you’re fat, it’s your life. Since about the time I was 8 and actually realized the implications of being overweight, I have devoted at least 20% of my thought process to my weight. And it’s not like I’ve been completely idle during the past 15 years, I’ve had plenty to do. When I didn’t have anything to do, I thought about it. And even while I am accomplishing my everyday tasks, the fact that I’m fat is always at the back of my mind. It’s sad really, even if I do lose weight, I don’t ever think I’ll get rid of it. It’s ingrained in me. Is this me having a pity party? God, no. I’m just stating facts. This is how I feel. We all have to play with the cards that we are dealt. I just got the fatty card. Go fish? I think not.

I’m not exaggerating though. A friend of mine who recently gained weight told me she couldn’t remember what her stomach looked like when she was skinny. She said when she was thin, she never worried about her weight unless someone mocked her small boobs or something… and that was usually forgotten about within an hour or however long it took to call the speaker a ho. Now, she couldn’t stop obsessing about her stomach flab and the shape of her thighs.

I’m glad I’m not alone.

The fact that I am fat will always be at the back of my brain.

Don’t eat that. Suck in your cheeks. Don’t look at him. Fix your shirt so it doesn’t stick in the fat rolls when you sit. Don’t picture yourself there. Try on a larger size. Steer away from the narrow door. Raise your head so you don’t get a double chin. Don’t walk by that group of guys sitting there. Make sure you pull your pants up. Try not to look forward to that party. Dance so your ass doesn’t jiggle. Stand at an angle. Don’t order anything to eat that may be embarassing. Wear something baggy. Don’t draw attention to yourself. No skirts above cellulite level. Keep your arms away from your sides. Don’t take the elevator. Eat the apple. Carry the binder in front of your stomach.

Why?

Because you’re fat.

These are worse than the compulsions I had when I had OCD. But they are my life. And not just mine, I have it on good faith that any of my friends who is a little overweight goes through these motions too. I wouldn’t be surprised if most people do.

Anyway, to get away, I started using this form of escapism in middle school. I still rely on it heavily now because it just makes me feel better. In my daydream, I’m skinny, beautiful, intelligent, funny and with a beautiful man at an event that takes place a few months from now (in which period, I have lost a significant amount of weight). He loves me, we go through a series of scenarios where we prove our devotion to each other and make all my enemies jealous with our perfectness. It sounds a little more extreme than it is, for the most part it’s just harmless fantasies about my hot bod and really awesome guys who would probably annoy the shit out of me in real life. Tinyland is my escape from fat land re: real life. In tinyland, I don’t worry about my back fat because it doesn’t exist.

Being fat, I think, is how hopeless and helpless anorexics feel. Except they fear being fat. We’re actually there. And we can’t control it. The difference is that they’re killing themselves. We’re just killing our own self worth.

So what do I do now? Stop? Tell myself I should just stop thinking about my weight. I can’t… because I am not beautiful. I don’t care who you want to fucking blame. Blame me, blame the media, blame society, blame everyone. Some bigger girls are pretty. Most aren’t- not to me in any case. You can tell me I’m wrong and I won’t argue with you. It’s just my opinion. I also don’t think Reese Witherspoon, Sarah Michelle Gellar and Jennifer Aniston are all that pretty either. It’s my own perception of beauty, right? You may call it warped, I call it a product of Today and my own personal preferences. Either way, regardless of what people say… I’m not pretty so long as I’m fat. It doesn’t matter if my features are nice or my cheekbones are high, doesn’t make much of a different if there’s a layer of fat over them. Call it what you may. This is me being honest. I can fake it with make up. I can’t fake myself into believing that I am. I don’t need a pep talk or a confidence boost, I have plenty of confidence in myself… just not my appearance. And once in a while, I’ll get dressed up and feel beautiful but that’s fine as long as the truth is there. I don’t want to live a life of self-deception.

But see, this is what I’m afraid of.

I’m nowhere near two hundred pounds (although I got close once) and my doctor tells me that due to my family history of obesity, I’ll probably never be skinny (this is my newer doctor by the way, the old one tried to get my mother to turn me into a vegan). He says my diet is perfect if a little extreme. He tells me to stop thinking that skinny is beautiful. But how can I stop thinking like that when the world thinks the same? When a guy I liked forever picks a girl with legs that could fit between my forefinger and thumb? When my little sister is constantly whistled and stared at? When my grandmother berates me for “growing horizontally and not vertically” like all my cousins on my mother’s (read: skinny) side? When I watch 7 shows a week and not one of the women on there weighs more than a hundred and twenty pounds?

I feel like I don’t belong here. Like I should be living in a different world. I should always be an extra running in the background and cut from the final scene.

This is what I’m afraid of.

That there will be another little girl like me who eats normally, acts normally and lives normally until she realizes that she is ten pounds heavier that anyone else. Then she realizes that none of those people on tv are ten pounds heavier than anyone else. That there is no one else. Just a bunch of thin people. Suddenly, the cheekpulls will stop and she won’t be hugged by her aunts because she’s cuddly. She’ll notice their hurtful comments. And how her baby fat isn’t melting off like it is on her best friends. How different everything is for her than it is for her skinnier counterparts. How she’s excluded out of cliques when others her age figure this out. She’ll go on diets, awful diets. She’ll skip meals. She’ll cry. She’ll be afraid. She’ll throw up. She’ll exercise… more than anyone. She’ll still be overweight. She’ll skip out on parties. She’ll think everyone is judging her. She’ll buy clothes for when she loses weight. She’ll put her future on hold until she does it. This will happen.

You can break out of it. I’m not sitting in every weekend but mentally, I am. Six months into the future, I’m always thin. In April 2010, I’m skinny.

Again, facts. Not pity. If I drop down to 110 lbs. I don’t think these feelings of inadequacy will ever change. That’s why it’s so important for the world to change. Like, now. Before y’all can influence them with more false ideas about what beauty is.

Beauty should never be something you can’t attain.

And this is what I mean, skinny girls. You are pretty. Those people who tell you that you are anorexic are just wrong or jealous. Wrong and jealous. Because at the present time, the world says you are pretty. No one takes a look at you and tells you you’d be pretty if you gained a few pounds. Yes, those comments are hurtful but they aren’t true. My body image is true. So please don’t compare us. Don’t pretend that your weight plagues you like it does mine.

And if your feelings are hurt because someone calls a starving model “disgusting” then I’m sorry because unless you look like that, you are not being referred to. You are beautiful. And just because I don’t want anymore people to be royally screwed over like I was doesn’t mean I’m insulting you or your weight. You are what pretty is right now. You don’t need to feel guilty. You didn’t ask be pretty. But let me have my own refuge. I think it’s time for you to figure out that you don’t know anything about me. And that a sharp comment to you about your weight will irritate you for a minute while one directed at me will add itself to a pile of hurtful shit that has been gathering all my life.

See, when someone says you’re too skinny, you look at a billboard. You know it’s not true. You’re set.

Someone tells me I’m too fat, I look at a billboard. It’s true. It is depressing. Yeah, so some call the wambulance. Tell me I’m too sentimental. I don’t care. Just, please change it before little chubby girls end up like me.

I know you may have other problems even bigger than my superficial ones… but your weight is not a problem. It is for me and we need to get to place where it’s not a problem for anyway.

We all know inside us how superficial appearances are. In twenty years, it won’t matter but right now it’s destroying lives. Lives of young girls who should be doing their hair and getting ready to go our with friends to enjoy a night out worry-free. Why is weight so prominent in the world when it composes such a small part of our lives?

And like I said, there are worse things in life.