I was having a conversation with my friend last night about fat people needing to buy two seats in an airplane. He was arguing for, and I, against it. I told him, “The world is designed for thin people! Why should fat people be penalized for being fat?”

He said, “They pay already by buying fat people’s clothes, if they are fat, make them pay for it, it’s their choice.”

I said, “Well, for some people, fat isn’t a choice.”

He said, “There’s no gland that makes you morbidly obese, like, 500 pounds.”

And I said, “I just don’t think fat people should be penalized for being fat. And you, you’re six foot three, haven’t you ever been in an airplane and felt it was too small for you?

And he said, “Yes, but I would pay more for 6 inches of more legroom.”

“And that doesn’t seem unfair to you?” I asked. “No, that doesn’t seem unfair to me.” he said.

“Huh.” I said. “I’ve been on airplanes, and I think I’m under 200 pounds, and I’ve felt, since I started riding airplanes at age 12, that the seats have gotten too small for ME, so, what’s really going on here is that airlines are trying to make more money by making the seats smaller.”

I’ve been fat my whole life and now I’m obese enough to have aches & pains from it. I was nodding through this post.

I avoid buying clothes like the bubonic plague. My husband finally said “Enough! You cannot live in torn sweatpants forever!” and dragged me to Catherines. Wonderful women, women like me, helped me find clothes I actually like and look good in.

Now I just have to find a way to like myself enough to want to be healthy.

And now I’m going to go put some pants on and go pick up my book which just arrived at the library!
.-= Oliver Danni´s last blog .. =-.

Rock on Beauty.
.-= Leah´s last blog ..More of this please…….Amplification Friday =-.

i was raised as a woman, and i was told all my life that i was “supposed” to be skinny. my body doesn’t work that way, so out that went with all the other BS gender stereotypes. turns out a lot of the crap our culture feeds us is just that: manure.

as someone who’s definitely round in the middle, i’d take someone who’s round-shaped over a stick figure any day. that way i don’t have to worry about snapping them in half if i get a little overzealous about hugging.

I learned for the first time that “fat” really isn’t synonymous with “unhealthy.” There are diseases that we fat folks are less susceptible than our thin friends as well as vice versa. Ignorant people love to point out fat people who eat terribly and don’t exercise, but there are thin people who do exactly the same thing and are just as unhealthy. You just can’t tell from the outside! It’s the exact same phenomenon as happens to people whose age, disability, or ancestry isn’t visible from the outside–they don’t feel as much discrimination because people can’t tell that they’re different. If we even needed more evidence that all that stuff is bullshit, there it is.

When I dusted off my sewing machine recently, I got a fantastic book from the library about designing clothes for big sizes. It talked about the history of sizing models for clothing patterns, and how and why they’re ridiculously out of date and proportion for real people. Never once did it suggest that fat was a flaw to be overcome–on the contrary, it pointed out that since fat people take up more visual space and therefore attract more attention, we should give them something to look at! It also discussed the way certain design elements flatter different body types, always with the point that you should choose the ones that make you look good–not necessarily the ones that make you look thin.

I spent about a month tracking calories and limiting what I let myself eat. This was, numerically, effective–I think I lost about 15-20 pounds–but was a constant source of disappointment. Yes, my weight number was lower, but my body wasn’t any different (so I couldn’t fit into more/different clothes, which is most of why I cared), and I had to keep turning down things that I would have enjoyed. So I decided to do an experiment. I stop caring about how much I weigh, and start caring about how happy and healthy I am. If my size kept bothering me, I’d resume trying to change it. Perhaps needless to say at this point, I never looked back.

Last but not least, I was helped immensely by something I can take almost no credit for: awesome, respectful, supportive, and flattering lovers. I can tell myself that I’m sexy all I want in a vacuum, but when I get undressed and the person waiting in my bed just looks me up and down, broadcasting desire, I feel like the hottest thing in the world. I grew up honestly believing that the “normal” (ha) female body we see everywhere is the only kind that anyone else is attracted to. I was incredulous, and then delighted, to find out I was wrong.