Do You Think I Don’t Know?

“Girl, you need to quit smoking — smoking will kill you…”

“Chiiiile you better stop all of that drinking… drinking is going to be the death of you…I hope you’re not out here driving drunk…”

“How many calories is that?…you know you shouldn’t eat that…you know half of your family has diabetes….don’t you want to be here for your children…I recorded this episode on discovery channel about the fattest woman alive….maybe you should watch it…”

What.the.FUCK….er, what the hell?!?!?!

Question: Do people really think that people who drink too much smoke too much eat too much *fill in the blank* too much aren’t aware? Do you really believe that fat people don’t know they’re fat? Drunk people don’t know they’re drunk? And whether you think they know or don’t know, who appointed you hall monitor, constantly running through their lives with your orange belt on, sounding the alarm every time they light up, toss one back, or skip a trip to the gym?? Do these people consider themselves being helpful?? Well, please allow me a moment to educate you — you are NOT helping. In fact, you are doing quite the opposite… Please observe….

While there are many struggles and addictions that people deal with on a daily basis, my life long struggle has alway been my weight and while I have won some battles, I have never quite been able to win the war. The pain of walking around in a “fat suit” on a daily basis (don’t even get me started on those doctors and celebrities who do the whole “fat for a day” fat suit experience so they can claim to know what it’s like to be fat) can be unbearable at times. You eat more — you gain weight, you eat less — your body thinks you’re starving — you gain weight, you try to bust your ass in the gym — you weigh yourself and after two weeks you’ve lost .2 pounds. The story is downright mean… The only thing more painful than actually being fat is the constant reminding coaching that you receive from outside “helpers”. People who watch everything you eat and ask if you’re going to eat that. The people who say “girl you’ve gotten fat” as if you didn’t.fucking.notice. when you look at yourself in the mirror everyday. The people who gift you an item of clothing that is 3 sizes bigger than what you actually are, thereby causing you to think damn, is that how they see me? The people who say shit like I hope you don’t suffocate your child while breastfeeding….the people who don’t want to sit next to you on the bus…the people who donate their “fat” clothes to you because those clothes are “way too big” for them…the people who constantly hand you the camera to take the picture and never ask you to be in it…  This is the “help” that you get as a fat person… You find shame in places where you are supposed to find help and acceptance… The big words that doctors use when discussing you as if you don’t know that bariatric means fat… The way that your every sniffle, cough and sneeze is neither investigated nor acknowledged, but simply written off as a symptom of your fatness…. The shocked voice they have when they tell you that your blood pressure and your cholestorol and the rest of your “numbers” are good…. The way that they practically caused me to live in hell through both of my pregnancies feeling that something was going to be wrong with my children when they came out because they came from me, their fat bariatric mother…. It’s daily.fucking.torture being fat and yet, for some reason, there are some of you out there who feel the need to plunge the knife in deeper and twist it with your condescending tones and your fat jokes and your “pinch an inch” antics…. Hell — you can’t talk about black people — you can’t talk about Jews — you can’t talk about gay people…but people, comedians, everyday joes take shots at fat people on a daily basis without giving it a single thought. Hmmm.  And somehow in the midst of this daily ridicule and shame, us fat folks have to find a way to love ourselves enough to get up and try one more thing, make one more effort to take control of our weight and our lives every.single.day. It’s like being an alcoholic in a 12 step program, but when you’re fat, there are way more than 12 steps…

You want to help a fat person? Love them unconditionally — no, I mean REALLY love them unconditionally. Not that I love you but I’m going to make sideways comments every time I see you type of love, but that love that says hey you, fat girl, I love you exactly the way you are at this very moment. Not the type of love that says hey fat girl, I just ran 10 miles in 5 minutes coupled with the ‘what did your fat ass do today’ stare, but the type of love that says hey, if you want somebody to walk with you, I’m down!! Not the type of love that says you’re pretty for a big girl…but the type of love that just says you’re pretty.  Got it???

So consider this a public service announcement. WE.KNOW. We know we’re fat or drunks or *fill in the blanks*. Your judgement and ridicule need not apply — the internal torture we inflict on ourselves on a daily basis is sufficient. Just offer the type of acceptance that you would want someone to have for you and your ‘issues’.

Are we good?

Great!!

Now go treat your fat friend to some Fro-Yo….cause I sed so….