From One Fat Chick to Another: An Open Letter (whatever the hell that means...)

Dear Ladies (and the occasional wandering eyes of gentlemen),

Once upon a time there was a little baby girl, and for some reason or another she grew and Grew and GREW into an enormous, unhealthy woman.

She blamed her state on everyone else:
Even though no one was force-feeding her like a goose.
Even though she was perfectly capable of lifting whatever five pound object was in her home (a large jar from a failed DIY project, one of her many cats).
Or put on a pair of shoes and walk outside at a brisk pace.
With slim exceptions, such as the bleak hours of the night where one secretly admits to the Sandman their folly- her unhealthy state was, unequivocally not her responsibility or fault.
She blamed all men for not seeing her inner beauty.
At times, people were mean to her about her weight, so clearly she had the right to be mean to others, considering she was the victim and all...

For hours she'd stare zombily at social media sites.
She posted quotes by amazing people, as if to live vicariously through their minds (although most were dead, so it was more retroactive...) but never acted on anything that inspired her.
She ogled pictures of faraway places and beautiful cultures, but decided the mountains looked too steep for her, the oceans too deep.
Her favorite thing she COULD do, however, was mock ugly pictures of celebs.
Or wait sneakily, like the villainous cat from 'The Great Mouse Detective', for someone to post something, anything to sink her teeth into.
With a whole list of retorts she'd been holding back since middle school (because kids are judgey assholes at that age) finely crafted through the years- she was a warrior of the comment section!
The touch pad her sword and the 'delete' button her shield.
Titles like:
"Blah blah FAT SHAMING blah blah"
and 
"REAL WOMEN HAVE CURVES!"
and
"Insert Generic Comment Here About How Every Womyn's A Goddess And Men Are Pigs."
and
"Health Tip Only Meant For Already Healthy People But The Blogger Is Trying To Raise Their Viewership, So They Make It Seem Anyone Can Do It!"

To these, the woman would tear vehemently at the article and posters, with the ferocity she'd show a German Chocolate Cupcake with a truffle in the middle.
She cheered and shouted out, and wrote how true it was her curves were that of a woman- men SHOULD love her the way she was!
With puffed chest, she'd look down upon the kingdom of her feline masses like the Goddess she was meant to be.
She'd repost the health tips, as if everyone but her should be doing them, because, after all, they'd never have known it without her.

She'd tear down the people she longed to be like and raise up those that were just like her. 

There were times she'd watch a woman or girl she considered much fatter than herself walk by, hand in hand with a universally hot guy.
Sometimes it was a hot woman with a balding, pork-bellied man.
She wondered how it was possible (and not in a good, self-respective way).

At some point she may have found love.
Maybe they were both just settling because neither wanted to 'die alone'.
He may have accepted her weight, maybe not.
In those bleak, Sandman hours maybe both wished they were lying next to their ideal instead.  
Maybe he was just like her and content to talk about all the things he'd like to do as he binge-watched Netflix with her for the rest of their lives. 
She may even have had kids; fat chubby bastards, just like their parents- after all, monkey see monkey do.

What I do know is that she was always tired.
Her skin was always oily.
Her hair greasy despite all the fancy shampoos at Sephora.
In her thirties, without any sort of disaster or infortuitous circumstance, her body began to ache at the joints.
First her knees.
Then her hips.
Next to rebel were her arches.
She began to have 'pains', like her nerves twitching in odd places.
Paranoia set in about heart attacks just in time to get diabetes.
The electronic chair helped her get around, despite everyone always being in her way.
She wasn't very kind at this point either.
The world owed her.
She watched from her chair as women twenty years her senior still laughed and moved around, unhindered.
She died eventually, like we all do.


And that was her life.
She never went on an adventure because she knew she couldn't make it up the mountain or across the river.
Certainly not without help.
Certainly not without embarrassing herself and having to admit she couldn't make it.
Admitting it out loud.
And she never found the person she felt she deserved, unlike that bitch, Savannah down the street, still outside everyday doing yard work. 


My morals of the story are these ladies:

-Weight has nothing to do with health.
-Our health is the only true thing we have control of in this world.
--Thus: Your health is your responsibility. No one else's. Only yours.

-Healthy people want to spend their time with other people who care about their health.
--It's not that our personalities are necessarily lacking, but we can't blame others for finding value in one's body when we aren't showing we do as well.
---Healthy doesn't mean a size '0' or being able to run a triathlon while skipping: it's being able to physically do all those things you want to do, and only stopped by physics, genetics and anatomy. 

-Choosing to spend the amount of time ALL of us do on Social Media and Netflix, letting those hours slip by unnoticed, is a fault.
--If you have the time to spend doing all that, you can equally chose to improve your health with that time.

-A "Real Woman" has two X chromosomes. And then there are those that want to have two X chromosomes and guess what? They can be real women too. The more the merrier! So knock the rest of that crap off.

-Being happy with one's self isn't usually followed with verbal hostilities about someone else.
--Shrinks call it 'masking' or 'projecting'. Recognize yourself.

And most importantly:
I want you all (myself included) to live an amazing, healthy and happy life filled with all the potential you could possibly achieve.
So please, let's all drop the ego, the act, and the excuses and get our own asses out there.
That's my New Years wish at least... 


Sincerely,
Dust in the Wind

Contemplations of a Fat Girl: The Mantra Ode de Blubber

    Welcome back to another bout of bountiful contemplation and anecdotal insight from your favorite (or at least congenially amusing) Fat Girl and Bar Stool Shrink (as proclaimed by some very drunk guy a few months back)! Since my last scribblings, I haven't been sure where to go from where I left off. I wanted to explain some fears, but the spectrum is so broad that I don't quite know where to start without straying off the topic and ranting on for a few hours before trying to tie it all in with one last, paragraphically Puckish sentence. So we begin with the mantra every fat person knows.

    Let's start with something personal, shall we? Last week, I drew a rune from a set I've had since right before high school. (This part is important, despite how some people may think it's silly and others may judge me harshly. However, even though I don't prescribe to any religion, my grams, a devote Lutheran, draws runes too; she always has and says it's an important part of out Nordic heritage. So neener-neener. I feel validated.) The rune I drew said, basically, that I'd finally hit my stride in life, that I was accomplishing my

goals and evolving myself nicely (again, paraphrasing). However, I shouldn't start anything new and throw myself at it, because it wouldn't go over like I wanted it too. Well, I've hit my stride at my current workplace, my friends here on the island are freaking solid as the lava that keeps cutting us as waves send us through the washer, I'm going to the gym regularly and seeing small little changes here and there that are enough to make me ecstatic, my hair's even longer! Even with a back injury and cold, it's still been a rocking several months. Then, all of a sudden, there's this cool guy I meet (What? You expected him to be boring? Psh.)! I end up hanging around him a bit. We talk. He walks me home because his place is in the same line. I think, hmm, things are going well, but as the saying so popular in Korean dramas goes, 'I got too greedy.' Suddenly, (I think a friend mentioned something to him), he becomes evasive-ish. Like back in middle school, where that cool kid, you know the one, hears through the grapevine you have the hots for him and for the rest of the year, gives you that awkward sort-of half smile in the hallways and walks past you with expediency. Now, here's the tie-in, even if it's nothing to do with how I look; I could have stuff in my teeth or maybe just a terrible personality, possibly it's just the fates saying, 'Hey, don't freaking ignore us! Rude.' or he's simply not thinking one way or another about me, has nothing even to do with me- all this is beside the point, because my first thought is, and always has been, "It's because I'm fat.".

    There it is! The single, most suffocating, demoralizing and number one reason why fat people find it hard(not impossible) to change. Four, mostly monosyllabic, slightly contracted, words that limit everything we do. In them hides all our fears about ourselves, anxieties for our bodies and judgements on how other people perceive us. It's also our number one excuse.
"It's because I'm fat that I can't start running."
"...That those guys at Best Buy never help me, even when I'm clearly looking dazed and confused."
"...That the hot guy/girl doesn't notice me, but will talk to my hot friends."
"...That I won't get that promotion."
"...That I don't have the courage to talk to that person."
"...That I'm afraid to go to the gym, because everyone will judge me."
"...That I can't wear pretty clothes, I'll look ridiculous, like that Hippo from Fantasia."
"...That we won't be anything more than 'just friends'."
"...That I can't join in, because everyone will see I can't keep up. Or I'll let everyone down."

    The list is pretty infinite and the emphasis varies from person to person; and it's silly to assume that any individual doesn't have those exact same fears for different reasons, whether it's physical, a lack of skills or fear that your personality's lacking; we all have these. Thus, you may think there is no validity here, that it's all a bunch of excuses and whining, but when it's the same saying for everyone who falls into the fat, fluffy and 'Daaamn!' category, it's worth taking note of. Someone, more inspirational than myself, could say, "Just turn the it around! Say, instead, "..."" See, I've got nothing. Truthfully, in the end, one-liners don't work when dealing with a cacophony of others' blithe commentaries and your own viscous voice of self-doubt and loathing(and that's not even me being dramatic). This is because there's a certain level of truth to it. From conscious to subconscious, much of it's a learned behavior, backed up by societal interpretations of the body image. Let's explore one, shall we? With more bulletin points! I know how you've missed them.

Today we'll look at how fat people are effected by the voices and people around them. And there are voices, oh so many voices...

• Parents- That's right, whether you were fat since you were younger, to even older ages, unintentionally or not, any snide, bitchy, flippant or otherwise, comment from a parental unit can start the turning of the brain to the dark side, if it wasn't there already. Even parents who aren't highly affectionate and practically speak in tongues can do irreparable harm to their child's psyche even when they're used it. For instance, "He would have liked you if you if you weren't fat." That's kind of an obvious and scarring one. Or, "He'll need a large size... you know... because he's big..." Obvious statement, but still hurtful. "If you just lost a few pounds, that dress/shirt/pants/skirt/socks/bandana/bathing suit/leg warmers might have looked good on you" Very possible, but why can't something be found that will look good now? Ooh! And a classic, "*pokes at belly fat* Is that a beer baby?" I heard a friends mom say that once, he blushed and tried to 'shoo' her away. They're our parents after all, even if we don't want to admit it, their words can seep into our skins like a chill in the mountains and without proper contemplation, one may never realize how a single comment affected us so directly. 

• Siblings- Oh siblings... Depending on your relationship, the age gap and in which way the 'gap' scale slides (no pun intended), if you have/had a tumultuous relationship with siblings closer to your actual age, on average, you've heard your share of jokes about whatever characteristic you have that isn't flawless; and in a sibling rivalry, there is no such thing as flawless... lest they make fun of you for that. And should their friends band together to tease you- as any good friend would, to take down the evil sibling- then affect is that much greater. On the half, those comments easily bounce off our thickened hides, after all, we're bickering at each other getting our share of shot in too. To the other half... Let's just say I know a very pretty and in-shape lass who truly believed she was fat every time her brother would say so. He was kind of a jerk. After all, like our parents, we see them everyday, and the constant nagging can wear you down like the gazelle being chased by a lion, toying with you until they finally grab you by the jugular and topple you too the ground.
• Friends- Unless they are the no B.S. type and tell you everything straight out, we're don't  believe you when you say we 'look fine' in whatever it is we're asking you about. Whether it's because you're too close to be subjective, not paying attention or just lying through your teeth, the mirror already told us all our flaws that we've spent countless hours obsessing over and if you can't point even one of them out with your awesome Jedi Mind Tricks (which you'll need because a good portion of perceived flaws are nothing out of the ordinary to someone else.), then were going to assume we look worse than we ever actually did.
  This may be geared more towards women...
• Any Guy/Girl- Who gave 'the look' (there's a lot of 'the look's, but there's normally a degree of arrogance mixed with a pinch of disdain), or said something slightly snide/distant about... well... anything frankly- it is taken in and despite many peoples best efforts, internalized as material to build a case as to why you're too fat to talk to the hotties or anyone else for that matter, whether it's at a bar, club, or waiting in line at the neighborhood Safeway. Strangers can utterly shatter the shreds of self confidence a person has been pretending to have. Is it a good thing to care that much? Hell no. But unless they've found solid ground, emotionally, to stand on and stare out at the world unfailingly at, these strangers, whose names they'll never know, will get in and secure all one's insecurities with that single look.   
• Department Store Sales People and Everyone Else- During the production of 'Shallow Hal', Gwyneth Paltrow wore a 25lb fat suit that added nearly 300 extra visible pounds of fake flesh. As she walked through the lobby of the very swanky hotel she was staying in, fully clothed and make-up'ed for the movie, she told reporters later how startling it was to see how people acted around her in her obese state. No one made eye contact and in stores, sales people treated her like Julia Roberts in the beginning of 'Pretty Woman', not wanting to help her and being all-around not what she'd ever experienced before. She is Gwyneth. Freaking. Size 2. Paltrow after all. And was awesome in 'The Producers'. Just saying.
  No matter how you spin it, up until about five years ago, department stores only had a single corner of muumuu'esque looking frocks for plus sized women and men had to go to the Big & Tall stores. Although I don't know how the guys service was, most of the sales people avoided helping you in the women's departments. 

    This is me, keeping it short today. There's a point we all reach, or will(hopefully) where the words of others, although still noticed, begin affecting us less and less and more powerful thoughts override the negativity, such as, 'I won't always be like this.' It's a long-ass road to get to this point. Some people can't do it without the support of family, friends, loved ones or even a group of individuals just like them. Others, even with support, won't reach this point until they've muddled through the swampy waters and had their, 'Oh!' moment and slowly leverage through with their own determinations. Whether it comes from a doctor saying, "Look, in ten years, I'll be golfing in Hawaii. Do you know where you'll be if you keep this shit up? Well, you might have your ashes spread in Hawaii, but unless you believe in a religion, that's going to be about as far as you're going." or realizing you won't be able to play with your kids with the shape your in now- the 'Oh!' moment is imperative. As for me, after getting past numerous fears I can tell you all about later, my 'Oh!' moment was this: "Hey. For a chick who really loves zombies and has a dozen contingency plans for a zombie apocalypse, I won't be able to actually run away, in order to survive. I'll probably be one of those people who's eaten right off the bat, not even turn into a zombie, just end up a smear of blood and a broken ulna on the sidewalk... Well that sucks... I should probably fix that." No joke. That was my motivation. A look at my survival instincts, and lack there of. Also, I want to learn Parkour. I won't be in the right condition to learn it for probably another year or so, but if I don't start now, it'll be even longer... right? Right.


Next time we'll cover fears, especially fears about working out. And I'll try not to write it while falling asleep at 3am, like I did most of this one. Promise! 

Until then! 'Gentles, do not reprehend. If you pardon, we will mend.' Thanks for reading! Now go give a stranger a smile! If nothing else, it'll be amusing for you!

Sincerely,
Dust in the Wind