Hello, I’m fat.
I’m many other things as well, but fat was —and is— always my identifier. That’s the first thing people notice when they see me. The token fat girl at the party, in the group of friends, the one who makes her skinny friends feel better about themselves by no merit of my own, just existing.
It took me 22 years to finally find someone to love me exactly the way I was, but he didn’t know what I had to do to get to that point. No one looked my way, always the fat friend that had “a great personality” but people (men specifically) could not get over my plains of skin, my rolls, my scars. I love the man that was finally able to see me. I plan to marry him someday.
But this not about the love I found with a man. It’s about the love I’m desperately trying to find with my body. My main reason for starting this blog is to vent my feelings about my body, to discuss with myself why I feel the way I do. You see, I have this internal debate. A never-ending struggle with my inner voices. In the last couple years, I have grown into my feminism and have found the body positive movement. I have also found fat activism and this seems to have only caused stronger debates in my mind. Sometimes I wonder if I’ve become too educated.
So here’s my main debate: Am I still body positive if I want to lose weight? Does my want to lose weight make me fatphobic deep down? I seem to be incapable of loving my body the way it is while I so willingly love and accept every other body. I’m not sure why this is and I hope that writing about with bring me some clarity. I do want to lose weight. I’ve done it in the past, not in the healthiest way, mind you, but now I know what it feels like to be literally lighter, and smaller. It was novel. And it didn’t last long.