Let's start our morning with some bigotry, shall we?

This is one of the most disgusting, hateful things I have ever read.  And since I will in NO WAY be signing up for a Marie Claire ANYTHING to leave a comment, I will leave mine here:

I am fat.  I didn't get fat because I am the most disgusting person in the world, though I do like potato chips very, very much.  I got fat because my thyroid is wonky.  I got fat because of genetics.  I got fat because some people are just fat. 

No, I was never a big fan of organized sports.  Yes, I do like butter.  I can point you to about a dozen people I personally know who can say the same thing, and are not fat.  I am fat because I am fat.  I'm done blaming anyone in the world for that, including myself.

I am healthy.  Sure, my allergies act up, and I carry all my tension in my back and hips (as my massage therapist can tell you), but I live in a city where the only real way to get from A to B in a lot of cases is WALKING.  I take the stairs.  I move my body more than a lot of people.  I love plenty of vegetables and eat them regularly.  My cholesterol is fine.  I'm not diabetic.  All those HORRIBLE DISEASES that fat people get blamed for bringing on themselves?  I don't have them. (And if I did, studies linking my fatness to those diseases have been correlative (not causative) when they show any real link at all.)

I've worked really hard to like myself more over past year or so.  And part of that is trying to get past the awful stereotyping that this (horrible) woman at Marie Claire just dumped on the internet, yet again.  No matter how many times she attempts to justify her statements (in comments, never amended to the article itself), she never apologizes or admits that maybe, possibly, someone like me could actually exist without being ashamed to be seen in public. 

Fuck you, lady.  Just like you can't see inside my head to know exactly who I am and what I struggle with and what I DO NOT struggle with and how I'm not the awful person you surmise that I am from the fatness on the outside, I bet if I saw you cross a room I wouldn't know that inside, you are way more disgusting than any of the fat people you condemn.

*

I don't watch Mike and Molly for the exact opposite reason that Maura Kelly does - fat jokes are not funny to me, and this show hasn't found a tone I like yet.  But if they are showing fat people making out?  (Like the adorable and too-quickly-canceled Huge did?)  I might tune in.

I like traditionally hot people on my TV as much as the next guy or gal.  (Have any of you seen the new Hawaii 5-0?  Hot damn.)  But I think the word "traditionally" is key there - plenty of people are hot who we almost never GET to see on our TVs.  The couple in Mike and Molly may be fat, but they are also pretty damn attractive, and variety is the spice of life!

One more note:  If you took Ms. Kelly's article and substituted "gay" for "fat" ("I have a few friends who are gay", or "Those people aren't just gay, they're downright faggy!", or "I'm happy to send you some literature from my church group if you need it") would anyone other than right-wing nutjobs EVER think she was anything but a homophobe and a bigot?  Would Marie Claire have published this piece of hateful trash?  No.  And for a lot of people, being fat is as much of a lifestyle choice as being queer - that is, it is NOT.  It is who they are, and not all that changeable.  And, like queer kids, fat kids (and grownups) spend a lot of time hating themselves for who they are, dealing with a society that demonizes them, and doing really dangerous, self-destructive things to try and force themselves to be someone they are not.

This is an uphill battle folks.  But there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  Skim the article at MC if you want to, but then go check out the comments.  Nearly all of them rip Ms. Kelly a new one, and let her know that we're here, we're fat, and we're not about to put up with uninformed bigoted crap anymore.  Well done, ladies.  Well done.

no words.

Another suicide by a gay teenager, this time one who jumped off the bridge I can see from my street. Tyler Clementi, dead at 18, college freshman.

The whole story is gross and heartbreaking and upsetting, and whether his sexuality was the deciding factor in his suicide or not, it certainly can't be discounted.

Either this is reaching kind of epic proportions, or the media is finally putting the right label on a lot of teen suicides - they weren't suicidal simply because they were bullied (though that is enough).  They killed themselves because they couldn't bear to be who they were, because the world keeps telling gay kids that what they are is shameful, gross, perverted. 

They are none of those things.  They are perfect just the way they are.

Rest in peace Tyler, Seth, Asher, Billy, and all the other kids out there who couldn't see that it gets better.

Man, it really does get better.  Unless your college roommate is Dharun Ravi, who I hope gets the full weight of the law thrown at his FACE.

I just want to hug every queer kid in the world today.

Some days are less awesome than other days.

I feel like I'm failing myself this week - I am in a financially not great place, so whenever I don't bring my lunch (so it is "free"), I am punishing myself by not eating lunch.  Today, it is 4:12pm and I have eaten... a KitKat bar.  In fact, I haven't eaten before 5pm any day this week save Wednesday, when I ate lunch, but no dinner.

And my inner voice is thinking "serves you right" and also "maybe I can drop a few pounds this way", even while my body is really just screaming for a fucking sandwich, or a slice of pizza.  ANYTHING.

My relationship with myself might seem fierce in the good way, but I have bad weeks as often as not.

Next week - three squares a day, for which I will gladly pay (10 points if you know from what movie musical I bastardized that line).

Baby steps, people.

Photo by johnwilliamsphd on flickr.

I do not want to look like a couch!

I am not a Project Runway fan, mostly because my knowledge of and interest in fashion has always been nil.  But I do love me some Tim Gunn.  And now, I love him even more!  From an interview with Perez:

If I were to do a clothing line, it would be for sizes 16 and higher. Because I really believe that those women are truly a neglected population, and when I visit department stores and I go to the shop that’s called “woman,” I am horrified! Horrified by the awful, degrading, disrespectful choices that women have. It is mind boggling. I mean, selecting these gigantic prints, and it’s… I mean, who wants to look like a couch?

AMEN AND HALLELUJAH.  I would buy your clothes in a white-hot second, Mr. Gunn.

Thanks to BDFblog!

Credit where credit is due

So, yesterday I went to the doctor for my annual checkup.  I do this because I am concerned about my health, and because I was raised to be a mild hypochondriac.  I do this because while I know when I feel okay, I also know that I don't know what is going on INSIDE my body and I want to make sure everything is going well.  I do this because a friend of a friend who was in her 30's died last month completely out of the blue, and it was shocking, and I don't ever want to shock the people I love like that.

Here is the deal:

• I want to make sure my heart is healthy.  This means checking my cholesterol, good and bad.
• I want to make sure my thyroid is on track, which means making sure my levels are good, and my meds are working.
• I want to make sure my blood sugar is normal - it always has been, but I don't want to screw around with it, especially with a family history.

Here is what I walked out with:

• A referral to an allergist, because after years of treating me for chronic ear, sinus and chest infections, my doctor thinks this is getting ridiculous.
• A referral to a cool new OB-GYN.
• A flu shot.
• A lecture about weight loss.

Here is what I did NOT walk out with:

• Any credit at all for being a healthy person, regardless of my weight.

I like my doctor.  She is cool and smart and always has time for me.  She is competent.  I believe she truly has my best interest at heart.  And if any of those tests come back with red flags, you can bet your ass that I will work with her on ways to combat any future health risks.  Problem is, she looks at me and thinks my very existence as a fat person is a health risk.  Now, you're thinking, "but hey, she is your doctor, she might know better here."  But this lecture came before her having any evidence in front of her that my weight is affecting my health.  (We'll leave aside arguments about correlation vs causation here, even though those are completely relevant also.)  Her weight loss lecture consisted entirely of "well, I don't like seeing you this heavy, and in the long run it might help you avoid joint issues."

So what she is saying is: I am pretty healthy overall.  She has no idea if there is anything wrong with me, other than hayfever and mild acid reflux (a health issue that plagues friends of mine both fat and thin).  I should put my body through the physical and emotional stress of a weight loss regimen because... just because.  Because she looks at me and sees FAT and her brain translates that to UNHEALTHY.

I would like, for once, to be given some credit for being a generally healthy person who likes walking (even if she hates the gym), enjoys foods (of all sorts, even green), and goes to the doctor regularly.  Setting aside the issue that it's my body, and my business what I do with it, I like to think I DO treat my body with some modicum of respect, and the fact that my outward appearance makes people (including my doctor) assume that I do not is just frustrating as all hell.

You know what they say about people who assume, after all.

Fat and feminism

I feel like this is a point that feminists would mull over–does a body, merely by being a body, signal anything? If my having big boobs tells you nothing about whether I’m a slut, why are you so sure it tells you anything about whether I’ve had too many donuts?

Are we sure we’ve actually given up the desire to scrutinize women’s bodies and tell them what to do with them?

Because these discussions make me feel like some folks need to think more about why they’re so excited to jump into these discussions in order to tell people how unhealthy they are.

Oh, Aunt B.

I think we're going to get along just fine.

Isn't it delightful, indeed.

There are lots of other words people use [to describe larger body types]. Curvy, chubby, stout, voluptuous, zaftig, fluffy, big-boned, thick, and so on. But they don’t really describe my body in a meaningful way when I want to talk about my particular body experience.

...

There are plenty of other words that have been thrown my way over the years. But, for my linguistic energy, fat is still the best thing out there. It’s not a fancy word but I don’t need it to be. It’s one of the first words we learn to read; it’s basic. It’s as basic as “This is my body.” My body is many things. My body is fat.

The objection, of course, is that fat is used as an insult, is used to tear people down. It’s a successful insult because of the cultural perception that fat is bad.

I tell you what, my fat is not bad. It isn’t morally wrong, nor is it poorly behaved. It simply is. I’m not afraid of my fat and so I am not afraid of the word. “You’re fat,” (or, more commonly from trolls, “Your fat”) is a statement of fact, not an insult. Why, yes, yes, I am fat. Isn’t it delightful?

- From the always delightful and amazing Marianne Kirby at The Rotund.


In case you were wondering, I enjoy the word 'zaftig' a lot, but I am, at my core, just plain-old fat. It's not a revelation to say that about myself - I've been calling myself fat for years. What is new is the fact that I am saying it without judging myself. Fat as a descriptive word with no moral weight attached to it - THAT is a revelation.


In related news, I think I am addicted to Alight. Mmmmmm clothes!