<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d8629618\x26blogName\x3dhello+i+am+fat\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dSILVER\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://plork.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://plork.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d8555273251081947638', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

hello i am fat

« Home | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next » | Next »


On my first week of the Diet Thing, I lost 3.6 pounds. This is a great thing! A thing of which I am proud. I worked hard, and I ate goodlike, and I earned every one of those pounds and fractions of pounds, huzzah.

And I called up my best friend on my cell phone, on my way back from the meeting, and I found myself whispering about it.

"Hey!" I said. "Hey! Guess what? I lost three point six pounds." My jaw was all clenched, and I think I was trying to not move my lips in case there were lip readers near by.

"What?" he said, crunching something that was probably not carrot sticks. I sighed.

"I SAID I lost three point six pounds!"

"You did what to the pound?" Crunch.

"I am doing the thing, right, that I told you about?"

"What thing?"

"The thing. You know! Where I am being, uh, less."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

I was calling someone with my great news, my excellent news, my news of which I should be proud, and I could not just come out and say it, in public, because I was embarrassed. Embarrassed. I was afraid someone would overhear, and look me up and down, and say to themselves "good luck, fat chick."

This is something that I've been struggling with, in its permutations, forever. I almost never come out and admit (and look at me say "admit!" all unconsciously like that) that I am on a diet, that I am going to the gym and trying to be a Healthier Me. As if it's a ridiculous thing for someone who is overweight to bother, as if I have become the living embodiment (ha ha! that was a pun! Sigh) or the poster child for pipe dreams. As if it is a sad thing for someone who is overweight to try to do something about it.

I think about it every time I am at the gym, pounding the Precor (does anyone think this is funny?), and every time I am in line at the grocery store, with my pile of vegetables and weight watchers delicious ice cream dessert treats (does anyone think this is sad?) and every time I walk into a clothing store (does anyone wonder why I bother?).

God, I do it when I meet someone new, when I'm afraid that whomever it is is worried that the fat chick will take a shine to them – I make a point to bring up Guy. To say, metaphorically, I am not interested in you, do not worry!


And I'm not really sure what I can do about it. I'm not sure there's a whole lot to be done – it's hard, living inside a body you are not friends with, and fucked up, living inside a body image that is so fraught with unpleasant associations you've made up yourself, and the unpleasant prejudices that sure, exist – you see them everywhere – but you can't help assigning them, willy-nilly to everyone you meet, unfairly and not.

I am new to this weight loss blog thing – I did not realize it was a cottage industry until I started my own, started reading just a fraction of the ones that are already out there, started getting your really wonderful comments which man, are so appreciated – this is a community kind of thing and it amazes me as I sort of situate myself in it and get settled in. Everyone is brave and strong talking about their bodies and their struggles and their successes and posting pictures and stats and I admire that and I can't do it.

I cannot tell you I started off weighing this, and now I weigh this. I can't post a picture of me looking a way I wish I never did. I can't be honest about it, even here in the anonymity of my website. Does that ever go away? I hope it goes away. I hate that it probably won't go away until I lose weight – that I can't be comfortable here, where I am, how I am.

  1. Blogger elaine | 2:12 AM |  

    I really do emphathise - but you know what really knocked me sideways?
    When someone told me how self-assured I was. Yup me.

    And you know what would knock me further sideways into next year?
    If only I could leave that as it stands - without adding my own whisper
    (... despite being as big as a house, all the fat ugly stuff, blah-blah with a
    side order of other insecurities).

    I need to give myself the arse-kicking that I'd give to anyone who 'actually'
    said that to me out loud. Kudos to you and your honesty.

  2. Anonymous Anonymous | 4:25 AM |  

    We all have our insecurities. Of course we do or else we wouldn't have packed on the fat in the first place. I can't say whether or not *yours* will fade and allow you to be comfortable. That remains to be up to you. Only you can make that decision. And it *IS* a decision. Every single thing we do between the beginning and day-to-day is based on a series of many decisions. I CAN tell you, though, that my own insecurities have gotten less over the last two years. They aren't completely GONE yet, but I'm happy to say that I'm "comfortable" with who I am. Where I am. And where I am going.

    Best of luck to you. I look forward to following your journey.


  3. Blogger Catesa | 4:59 AM |  

    its a process! you are doing great, take your time building up the confidence and know you do have supporters and it doesnt really matter, those numbers are just that, numbers. numbers are easy to change, who you are is who you are, not the number :)

  4. Blogger Loretta | 5:44 AM |  

    this post was reading my mind...it was like someone read my mind and wrote it all out... you are not alone...thank you for your honesty.

  5. Blogger canknitian | 10:46 AM |  

    "Living inside a body you are not friends with" and "unpleasant associations you've made up yourself" and "does anyone think this is funny?"...You've always had a way of making me wonder if you grew up across the womb from me. Congratulations on your -3.6!

  6. Blogger canknitian | 12:30 PM |  

    "living inside a body you are not friends with" and "body image that is so fraught with unpleasant associations you've made up yourself" and "does anyone think this is funny?" and..etc.

    You've always had a real knack for saying things that make me wonder if you grew up across the womb from me.

  7. Blogger canknitian | 4:26 AM |  

    Sorry about the double post. I commented, but it didn't come up, so hours later I commented again...gah.

  8. Blogger annalisa | 5:47 PM |  

    Well, Anne, congratulations on your 3.6 pounds. Really. That is great, and you should be very proud of yourself. About the posting - a couple of people wrote me after I spilled my shit, you know, and said things about wanting to be brave and post more personal things, but I think that if it's not something you're comfortable with, then don't do it. I mean, don't feel bad for not doing it. Write it down on paper or something. I just say what I say because I'm a spaz and can't control myself. Really.

  9. Anonymous Anonymous | 5:23 AM |  

    Oh yeah. I can absolutely relate to what you're saying. Especially the Who-does-the-fat-girl-think-she's-kidding feeling. In most other aspect of my life I can say "Screw what other people think; you just do what you do." With my weight, it's not so automatic. I go to the Y and I use the weight room which is usually full of high-school guys when I get there. As soon as I see them, I am no longer a smart, witty, hip, capable adult. I am a shy, geeky, fat, sixteen year old girl. The best I can do for that kid is to tell her to stand up straight, walk in there, and do her thing. None of us owe anybody else an apology for existing in their screwed up, anorexia/bulimia, inducing world.

    BethK (http://scaleandperspective.typepad.com)

leave a response