Thoughts from a Weird, Strange, Funny Girl
Today people were laughing at me, at least I am pretty sure of it, and I am also pretty sure why. It’s not like I am not used to it, I have been teased and commented about my weight my whole life. And though as I’ve grown up and learned how to handle peoples intolerance better, it doesn’t erase the sting.
Because here’s the thing, although I do get more than a little enjoyment of putting you in your place, my hand on my hip, staring you down with the dirtiest look on my face that says “yeah jerk, I know you’re talking about me. Say it to my face, you *bleeping* coward!” I do feel resentful that I can’t just be a normal person in a normal world. I can still shop in most normal clothing stores, if just barely, and fit into their clothes. I can still weigh myself on a normal scale, if just barely. I like to be active, when I choose to be, and do normal things like walking, hiking, and generally being outside. I even enjoy exercising when motivated enough to do so.
It just never seems to be enough though. Because I am still fat. And probably because I do live the life I want to live and I am generally not ashamed of it. I don’t apologize for my eating habits even though I know they are mostly not the healthiest ones. Does this mean I deserve the behavior from people that I get? For being who I am? For daring to venture out of my apartment with my boyfriend and picking up dinner.
Sometimes I am just so tempted to mimic back the rest of the world’s flaws when I see it, as immature as it would make me. Like, racially pulling my eyes back and making totally inappropriate Asian noises. Well, that’s just speaking about the people I dealt with tonight, but I digress. (And no, I didn’t do it) I have a million completely inappropriate, completely stereotypical, completely cruel replies. But I know that it is useless to fight against city hall, at least in this case I can’t fight the world. I can’t change the world’s opinions of me and if I am being honest I can’t be bothered enough to do it.
What the problem isn’t the opinions, it’s the whispers and the side long looks. People are usually too coward to say anything to my face, or maybe because they think that will hurt more or just feel sorry for me. What these people never expect is my defiant look back with both of my double chins held up high. I don’t apologize and I am usually pretty good at making you feel awkward while never saying a word. And I’ve done this many times. But at the same time, I don’t stand up for myself enough. I don’t say anything when people purposely short change my portion sizes almost daring me to ask for more and I don’t ask for double portions of anything but vegetables.
“What? You’re fat enough. You don’t need more food.”
That’s one of those phrases that are very rarely ever verbally said, at least in most the customer service/food and beverage industry. But it’s out there. Staring me down the same way I stare back. It’s an especially humbling shameful feeling. It’s embarrassing. I know certain fat people who aren’t afraid of asking for more food in these circumstances but that’s not the phrase I am embarrassed about. It’s the second half. You. Don’t. Need. More. Food. And it’s true, I don’t. I know how insane portion sizes are and that the human stomach does not need to be eating the over saturated, over salted, over calorie meal as it is, let alone more.
But I want it. I also want the most that I can get out of the dollars that I spend but hey, I know that’s the cheapskate in me. Get as much as you can for as little as you are able. It is in these moments that I wish I were normal. A normal size person in a normal sized world. Then being skinny(er) wouldn’t make me feel so guilty for going out, ordering larger portions. Nobody thinks anything’s wrong when the skinny girl get’s the Grande Mocha Cookie Crumble from Starbucks but hello fat girl ordering it! Does the girl want whip cream on it? Of course she does! She’s fat, look at her. She will probably scarf down some huge meal right after she drinks this and your probably going to be right.
So judge. You’re going to anyway. But my head will always be high and while I may have some insecurities, like not asking you to please not short change my salad bowl at Chipotle, I won’t ever show you that I have them. You are the one walks the fine line of placing one sarcastic toe out of line, from not only losing my business but complaining about them as well.