Every single day my Facebook feed is bombarded with ‘love the fatgirl’ slogans. Bloggers, self help experts, body acceptance typography feeds my soul with all of the stuff I’ve wanted people to say to me since I was little. I’ve been a fat girl all my life. For as long as I can remember I knew that I didn’t look like the other girls. I couldn’t run like the other girls, or jump or wear the same clothes as the other girls. It meant that I didn’t do all of the things that other girls do. I never ‘went out’ with boys, went shopping with them and actually bought anything or had the balls to tell them that I don’t actually have a Sportsgirl t-shirt because they don’t make them in Jabba the Hut size.
So when my social media world became saturated with the new brand of un-fat-shaming, I thought all of my Christmas’ had come at once. I found online stores in clothes that fit, I found my style, I found people who had thigh rub to the same extremity that I do and women who wore cardigans because they were cute AND covered their arm fat. I bought a fatkini and I wear it. STILL. And then today I read a blog post from one of the numerous American fat girls I follow and was left with nothing but the bitter aftertaste of a cream pasta sauce.
Right now I am at risk of not only being persecuted by my fellow fat sisters but being outcast from the entire fat community. And people I don’t want to leave! I found pants that fit and I don’t want to lose them but for this – the risk is worth it. This people, will probably be one of the most important things I’m ever going to say – so hear it. ‘I don’t like being fat.’ There, it’s out. In type. To most of you this is not news. I’ve never walked around sprouting the joys of being a fat girl. I don’t like buying my clothes in special sections, I don’t like the way drunk men look/laugh at me, I don’t like having to defend myself to myself consistently and on a daily basis. I don’t like the way I have to talk myself out of eating my feelings and I don’t like it that more of me wobbles when I run than anyone else has to deal with. The perks are few!
Today I read a blog that asked the world to get on board with fat pride. For the world to accept the idea that being fat was now something to be proud of. With new words like curvy, thick and cushy being slandered about it’s easy to forget that in the thesaurus the words are far less friendly and include words like burly, butterball, dumpy, gross, meaty and even bovine. Words have always been tricky with fat girls. For our entire lives people have been touchy about what they can use to describe us. Big-boned, lovely personality, roundish, plump, well-fed, likes her food, all of these were meant to be ‘friendly’ and inoffensive. Newsflash – they are all offensive. But nothing anyone could have ever said could hurt more than the names we called ourselves.
So fat pride…? No. That’s not what this fat girl needs. This fat girl doesn’t need a bunch of other fat girls telling her they should just make bigger seats because we are now the majority. This fat girl doesn’t need to be reminded that she is the subject of sexual fetish. This fat girl doesn’t need to tell the world that they should love her because of the size of my thighs.
What this fat girl needs is a reminder to move. A reminder that working hard at being healthy will make me live longer. It will help me have healthier babies and play a bigger part in the lives of my future kids. It will help me breathe and sleep better. It will help me shop in places that I don’t have to mail order from. I don’t need to be skinny. I’ve accepted the fact that I will never be a size 10. It’s just not in my genetic make-up.
What I need is to be strong. I need to be healthy. I need those things no matter what size my arse is. So fat ladies, that’s enough. That’s enough of the FAT PRIDE. Let’s get back to the body positive messages that support each other. Let the fat chicks unite with back pats and high fives for moving, for wearing tights with sweat marks on them, for running when everything jiggles, for choosing snow peas instead of the cupcake (not everyday – just most days – I’m not a monster) and all of those other things that come from loving the body you have AT ANY SIZE.
I don’t care how we got ourselves into this position, what I care about is being able to do up buckles on my shoes, walking up the stairs at work, running to catch the bus, being able to get pregnant, doing up my zips and not asking for the extra lap belt on the aeroplane. So at the risk of persecution and exile…
FAT GIRLS OF THE WORLD SSSSSHHHHH!!!!!
Love your body. Celebrate what you have. Work hard at being fitter, healthier, stronger no matter what the size of your arse and hashtag the shit out of yourself when you find the small wins in your body battle because we all have them.
#fatgirlstrong
I would mic drop here if I could. (I’ve always wanted to.)
#fatgirlstrong
life in big frilly knickers 