  Why is it that some people think that as being a fat person, I don't own a mirror in my home and know this? Long story short, got into a fight with some idiot who decided that their real crushing comment to me would be to call me a "fat bitch.
" I of course retorted with, "That's all you've got? Fat bitch? You think I don't know that I'm a bitch already? You don't have a fucking clue and couldn't catch one even if you smeared yourself with clue musk and did the clue mating dance in a field full of horny clues. " So, needless to say, unless it comes a some great shock to you, I'm fat. Not fat in quotation marks or parentheses, fat in actuality.
Not that girly, "I am so FAT, I had to buy a medium and not a small T-Shirt! " Not movie fat of like twenty extra pounds that two weeks of diet and exercise can erase just in time for the "big makeover reveal" scene-that isn't fat.
That's bloat. Not even beach novel fat, where some strange miracle or tragedy occurs that suddenly makes the pounds melt off without having to diet, attend meetings or eat tiny portions of shitty food, after which the fabulous man that loved her in spite of her size is able to watch her float down the wedding aisle in a size 6 Vera Wang. I'm not large. I'm not voluptuous.
I'm fat.
I'm a size 26-28 at Lane Bryant. That's the highest size they have. I wear a 3x at Target. I have since joined Weight Watchers because it's the best way to control my diabetes until the doctor decides whether I can control it with diet and exercise or diet, exercise and pills. I am medically categorized as morbidly obese. Nice. Let that roll off the tongue for a moment.
Of course my whole family is overweight, but I can narrow my obesity down to two things. I like to eat and I hate to exercise. I shouldn't say hate because I do like some forms of exercise. I'm a self taught gourmet chef, and the creation and eating of fabulous meals is a joy of mine. I like to see people enjoying what I make and I like to feed people. It's the southerner in me.
With a different metabolism, or with a strong interest in major physical activity, I might be okay. I am a woman of significant physical amplitude. I am not hourglass. I'm a dayglass. Possibly a day glass and a half. I wear a 44C bra and you could park a Honda in the shadow of my ass. When I sit crossleg, I look like Buddha in drag and way more hair and I am one sexy beast. I'm totally not kidding. I'm totally cute when I pull out all the stops. I may be big but I am genuinely beautiful.
I have a beautiful face, thanks to my mom. I have big blue gray eyes and nice full lashes. Great shoulder length reddish brown hair with golden highlights, alabaster skin that is mostly flawless with the exception of a few freckles here and there. I am, for a fat chick, a real hottie. Luscious, luxurious and abundant. I'm the fat girl the guys who aren't usually chubby chasers go for.
Sure, there have been guys who didn't want me for my size and kids have been cruel, and there have been a few moments of genuine depression and despair but overall, I've had a great life. I've accomplished many of my goals and continue to set them and push myself to my very limit. I've also had more than my fair share of high quality men.
I am done making apologies for being fat as if I had some sort of social disease. Do you want to see me naked under halogen lights? Of course not but I look great under candlelight and moonlight. Are my tits going to be in my armpits when I lay on my back? Of course, but who's aren't when you have breasts over a b cup? How about weird sexual postitions? Um, probably not. Am I great in bed? You bet your ass I am. If any of this bothers you, well that's your problem, not mine.
There is more to humans than one characteristic, be it skin color, religious belief, sexual preference, or size. I find the whole fat discussion very boring. I am who and what I am in more complexity than any single label. Success, failure, happiness, misery, the will all be mine in some measure, and none is avoidable or achievable based on what numbers the scale may flash.
Don't get me wrong. I understand fully what lays before me. I realize that my being overweight has only helped me get a disease that was perfectly avoidable until I ended up pregnant or later on in life. It doesn't shock me at all that I'm diabetic. I knew it was coming. I ate the food, I didn't exercise and I have to live with the consequences of my choices.
There are a lot of things I can not do and places I cannot go because of my size. People who dismiss me simple because of my weight and probably say awful things behind my back. For ever man who has loved me, there are probably a dozen who said "Not in a million years. " I have a lot of very lovely and good friends but I'm sure there are people in the world who dislike me and refer to me as "fat bitch" like the girl tonight instead of just "bitch".
I guess the point of the matter, besides venting a little, is that calling me fat isn't a shock to me. It doesn't hurt. It probably did when I was in the 4th grade but not any more. I've had years to live with it. I wake up ever morning and look at myself in the mirror, just like you. Right now I laugh at your stupidity, and give you a big "thanks, Captain Obvious.
" 
