My fat (was) is armor. It is armor against a society and culture that devalues me because I have darker skin, kinky hair and when I open my mouth I sound wrong (as in educated and accomplished as opposed to not). My fatness lets me not be feminine and sexual and sexualized and exploitable in the standard fantasy way. My fat allowed me to be in the world and not trigger my father’s fears about my sexuality and my mother’s vanities. I mean seriously, how was I supposed to cope with everything being thrown at me as shade from society, shade from culture and fear and loathing from Mom and Dad. If a doughnut made me feel better or a Big Ben sugar gel candy, please get me more!!!

If we stopped judging people, especially women, about their weight, would we really listen to the reasons they’ve wrapped hearts and souls in straight jackets made of flesh?


Veteran Cat Servant

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