plus sized manifesto

Let's just talk about the elephant in the room shall we?

And yes, in this one particular occasion I am talking about myself.

I've been thinking about this blog post for a very very very long time.  The words have been tumbling around in my head for years but I just haven't worked up the nerve to put them out there.

For as long as I can remember, I have struggled with my weight.  When I was in the fifth grade, all of the students in my class were weighed.  As I kid, it didn't seem that strange but looking back on it I wonder what made the school administrators think that my BMI was any of their business.  Lice checks?  Yes.  Random group weigh ins?  No thank you.

Anyway, I was one of the last students to be weighed (last name Winn always put me at the end of the line).  I watched as each classmate was measured and their weight quietly and discreetly recorded.  I stepped onto the scale with all of the untarnished innocence that only an eleven year old would have to have my weight shouted out for all to hear.

"Eighty five pounds!" he shouted like I was some sort of prized pumpkin at a state fair.

And that's when I learned how the rest of the world looks at fat people.  Like big giant freaks.

A large percentage of our population (no pun intended) struggles with weight and obesity.  It's a horrible thing to deal with.  I agree that it's a public health crisis reaching pandemic proportions.  This is not a post intended to celebrate all the plus sized divas in the world.  It's a problem.  Trust me, I hope beyond hope that precious Katelyn doesn't inherent the offending liquors of my genetic cocktail that will cause her to struggle with it for the rest of her life.  If she does, I hope I can set the right example for her so that she can live a healthy life.

I'm also not trying to disown the fact that I'm overweight by blaming poor DNA.  (Although I will say that I know maintaining a healthy weight is more of a challenge for me than others.)  I'm not trying to justify or rationalize being overweight.  I am working on it but it's an uphill battle that I will trudge forward with for the rest of my life.

Here is what I would like to clarify: fat people are not lazy.  We are not slothful or sloppy or less than.  We have not let ourselves go.

I can't speak for all the plus sized people in the world but I can say that a lot of us are hard working, caring, and intelligent people.  Fat people are strong.  (And if you don't believe me, strap 50+ pounds to your back and spend an hour participating in your usual routine.  What you would consider exercise is just another day's activities for us.)

I have spent years learning how to avoid photographs or if I can't, how to use other people as human shields.  I stay away from swimming pools and beaches and public occasions in general.  I've spent a lot of time hiding but not because I think I'm unattractive.  D tells me I'm beautiful every single day.

I've been hiding because I get the feeling that people look at me and make those kinds of judgements, that people assume that because I'm fat I must have some major moral failing.  I've been hiding from the fatphobes and their shaming view.

But come to the conclusion that just as I shouldn't be judged based on my weight, all the skinnies in the world should have that courtesy extended to them as well.  I've realized that they very well might be looking at me blind to my size.  I could totally be wrong about everyone else, my vision clouded by an insecurity that has been festering for years.

So here's the manifesto part of this prose.  I am done hiding.  I've decided that I'm tired of it and I shouldn't have to hide or explain myself or feel less than a person because of my outwardly appearance. 

So love me or leave me.  I've got to be me.  I'm done hiding and if that's a problem for you, keep it down clown.  I don't need that in my life.  The people who love me will stick around and they are wonderful.