Over the past few weeks my long-suffering Twitter followers have tolerated my complaints about a poison which until recently has lurked undetected in my pantry and refrigerator, a poison that for the past almost-year has upset my stomach so terribly that sharing any details would be just rude.
So I won’t1.
Clearing out that poison from my system (if not from the pantry, as no one else in the family is affected) has brought about a change that is nothing short of miraculous. The time freed up that once was spent in the bathroom2! The energy regained! The ever-so-slightly-decreased sense of all-pervasive self-loathing! Glory be!
As a not unwelcome side effect, the ban on glutens has forced me to be more cognizant of what I put in my mouth. Just two weeks later my pants fit better and were I to gather the courage necessary to set foot upon the scale I have no doubt that it would report back a number marginally less soul-crushing than the last time I was so bold.
So on a beautiful fall afternoon after triumphantly scoring some non-poisonous cornbread mix from the local health-food store my son and I stopped by a park just off one of my town’s main thoroughfares as a reward for his not poking sticky3 little fingers into every bulk bin. At one in the afternoon we were the only ones there; I watched the child gambol and cavort, as almost-happy as anyone with my particular disposition and set of mental health issue could ever hope to be, until some jackhole leaned his upper body completely out of his car window and shouted “Fatass!” in my general direction before speeding bravely away.
What are we to make of this charming young man? Here are some possibilities. He might have been:
- Raised by wolves.
- Hard-of-seeing, as it’s patently obvious that my ass is the least egregiously un-thin part of me.
- A devotee of Marie Claire magazine.
- Unaware of the unrelenting fat-hatred dished out minute by minute to which he was contributing:
- All of the above.
If you’re fat, you’re not only meant to be unhappy, but deeply ashamed of yourself, projecting at all times an apologetic nature, indicative of your everlasting remorse for having wrought your monstrous self upon the world. You are certainly not meant to be bold, or assertive, or confident—and should you manage to overcome the constant drumbeat of messages that you are ugly and unsexy and have earned equally society’s disdain and your own self-hatred, should you forget your place and walk into the world one day with your head held high, you are to be reminded by the cow-calls and contemptuous looks of perfect strangers that you are not supposed to have self-esteem; you don’t deserve it. Being publicly fat and happy is hard; being publicly, shamelessly, unshakably fat and happy is an act of both will and bravery. (It is definitely worth reading the rest of the post here.)
–or–
It’s a painful reminder that no matter how many amazing things I do with my life, no matter how successfully I mother or love or write, no matter how vigilantly I work to manage body and mind — to a certain set of people I can be nothing more than a “fatass.” No doubt it was meant to be a reminder, a reminder that in that young man’s reasoning the only version of womanhood worthy to be seen is the kind capable of bringing on an erection.
I am not that. Therefore I should not exist; not anywhere, and certainly not at a park where I could be seen by him.
And I wonder, when I can’t stop myself from thinking down this path, what precisely would change in my mind should this whole gluten thing bring on enough of a weight loss that I’d no longer be subject to that kind of negative attention? Would I, once thin, attract a different set of potential partners? If I caught the eye of some skinny-girl-loving-man, would I ever be able to trust him?
Or would I look into his eyes and wonder if he was the one who yelled?
“the only version of womanhood worthy to be seen is the kind capable of bringing on an erection.”
I’m sure your body has brought on many an erection, and it’s too bad you don’t see your body as erection worthy. My last long term GF was a sexy big girl, and when she bent over the sight of her ass … MMMMMMMMM instant hard-on. Damn I miss her.
“it’s too bad you don’t see your body as erection worthy.”
I do. He didn’t.
*thinks real hard for possible alternative*
Maybe you didn’t see the chubby donkey being led around the corner behind you?
I’ve been changing my eating habits quite similarly over the last few months. I’m currently gluten-free as well, and understand the wonderful feeling of not eating it. As I have also been losing weight because of my changes I also resonate with the wonder of getting to a socially acceptable size and having people then attracted to me. I can’t say I have much to add to what you said other than I know where you’re coming from on all of it and agree.
And by “wonder” I meant wondering about that rather than actually experiencing it. I’m still far from a generally socially acceptable size.
“to a certain set of people I can be nothing more than a “fatass.” ”
Maybe, but is that set of people worthy of your even caring about it?
Sigh. I was in the middle of getting some writing assignments done yesterday when you posted on Twitter about the idiot at the park and I forgot to take a moment and say I was sorry that happened to you and ruined your time at the park with your son. It’s because of crap like this why I hate people.
I am going to tell you that you will loose some weight on a gluten-free diet, but it’s probably not going to be enough weight that people won’t look at you and make comments like that. I am sorry to be the barer of bad news there. My husband has lost somewhere between 20 and 30 lbs and one pants size since going gluten free but it seems to have stopped. As a side note, from personal experience with my family, have your doctor run blood tests to check your Vitamin D and B12 levels. Gluten intolerance and celiac disease will cause absorption of these vitamins and cause other problems.
Moving on. You probably know this, but it’s worth saying, no matter what you do, how you look, how you dress, your religion, the size of your family, etc. someone somewhere is going to judge you because of it (ask me about it sometime – I have horror stories). You may have control over what you are being judged for, you may not. What is important is that you are happy with you. Don’t let this kind of crap get you down. You are better than that. You are better than the idiot at the park and a lot better than the twit who wrote that article for Marie Claire.
I ended up blogging today about the crap in Marie Claire. That article made me sick. I really don’t understand what that post, article, whatever it was, was allowed to be posted.
Hang in there and remember, there are those who like you for who you are :0)
I wondered about the Marie Claire article too, but I notice the author has now posted an (actually rather heartfelt) apology, retracting her statement and admitting that perhaps the commenters are right and her own history with an ED has colored her judgement.
Doesn’t make it right, but at least she acknowledged the hurt she caused.
If I caught the eye of some skinny-girl-loving-man, would I ever be able to trust him?
If you were anything like me: no.
For a while in my mid-20s I had body that was called “perfect” by successive partners. I could have made a lot of money from being naked, if I’d wanted to. I wasn’t “skinny”, but I was thin and big breasted — hourglass-shaped. I clung to that, thinking without it, I’d never get any man to look at me once, let alone twice.
It took me over three years, and some weight gain, to start believing that my boyfriend (now fiance) loved me for ME and not for how I looked.
I loved this post. It reminded me of an encounter with a skinny woman when I was picking up my sons from basketball practice. It seems that this woman was offended when I turned around in her driveway. After a rather heated exchange during which I calmly and logically explained my legal right to do so, she became so frustrated that she sputtered, “Well, you have a fat ass!” to whit I replied, “I’d rather have a fat ass than be a dumb ass like you.”
I know, I know. I should have been ashamed for stooping to her level.
But I wasn’t….
Ummm… Would it be bad form to ask for photos? ;) I’m joking because that’s the only way I can deal with the random passers-by yelling. I get called various things just for having long hair.
Congratulations on cutting out gluten! It’s *hard* for my wife, even with a good dozen local friends here ranging from the non-medically tested to Celiacs and folks with wheat allergies. Some local restaurants have taken up the mantle of providing good GF food, but re-learning how to cook for ourselves is being a challenge.
I agree it’s not fundamentally a weight-altering diet, but I kinda suspect you’re not in the regime to really need that… My wife has found that food satisfies her much better now that her body actually digests it, so she no longer feels compelled to eat.
(The really crazy & scary bit was that she had no issues with wheat in Italy. Might really be something in *our* wheat.)
Re: #3, I wish you’d gotten his name and address. I’d love to send him a subscription. Combined with that abhorrent article this post just makes me want to hurt people.
Which is not productive at all.
I’ve probably mentioned this before, AAG, but I’ve always been into big girls, BBWs, or whatever label of the day (I don’t like labels, suffice to say). And I’ve always found you gorgeous, although I know you weren’t fishing for compliments or anything with this post. In any case, I think you’ve hit it right on the nose with your points about this unfortunate, misguided young man, and I hope that less people, as society ideally becomes more accepting, share his negative and judgmental attitude.
Just know that one asshole oughtn’t ruin it for the rest of us, and especially not for you — but you’re magnanimous enough to realise that, I think. I’m glad you wrote this; you’re one of the sane voices in a sea of lunacy. Keep your head up high, and flaunt that ass of yours! *hugs*
Sadly, you could have a ridiculously svelte body and he’d just have yelled something else. “Waif!” “Eat something!” Or if you were wearing something alluring, “Slut!” or “Hooker!”
Bullies don’t bully based upon their victims, they do it for themselves.
Please don’t denigrate wolves by suggesting such a worm was raised by them, wolves would bite someone like that!
I find your last sentence so poignant.
Don’t listen to the m0r0ns.