I haven’t written anything of note or particularly personal in a loooooong time. My struggles have changed dramatically but have also stayed frustratingly the same. One particular item of note that has changed since the last time I wrote a blog is that I am now fat. I’m not borderline, or thin-passing, or temporarily-fat. I’m all the way fat. I am now on the other side of eating disorders and manic exercising –which are huge wins, but I am now struggling EVERY-SINGLE-DAY not to hate my body.
The fact is that most people are hardwired to despise fatties. They assume that we’re gluttonous, lazy, slobs that are incapable of putting down a doughnut long enough to walk around the block. We are the ‘before picture’ of a beautiful and happy person’s life. We are the dire warning to children of what they don’t want to become. We are loathed, but we are also often fetishized. People love to look at us and fuck us but are often secretly ashamed of wanting us.
On-line dating is a mixed bag. It’s 90% percent dick pics; 7% nice people who think I should be grateful that they’re even considering dating a fat person, and 3% genuine interaction. It’s nice, though, because it’s very easy to find out whether or not someone is repulsed by or attracted to your body before you go out with them. It is also exhausting. I gave up on sifting through the barrage of bullshit last year and decided that it might be cool to try and meet people the old-fashioned way. You know, in real life. This meant I would have to leave my house and shower more frequently, but I was excited to try it.
This experiment of mine is not going so well. I’m a socially anxious introvert who can also be incredibly funny, charming and self-assured. That combination is a fucking nightmare in the dating world. When you add to these already confusing signals the fact that I’m fat, it gets downright impossible. I don’t lack confidence, but my anxiety lies to me about everything –all the time. Someone may be blatantly flirting with me, and my anxiety will tell me that they’re just being nice. Without being able to look through someone’s question answers or dating history, I have absolutely no way of knowing whether or not they are into big women.
You see, when I was younger and had thin-privilege I could safely assume that a person flirting with me was doing just that. And, I would act on it. But, now, I constantly exist in a state of not knowing what to do. I don’t mind being rejected for who I am, but I absolutely mind someone being repulsed by my advances because I’m fat. And, my anxiety tells me that every person alive hates me for being fat.