Tesshollidaysflupaknees
kiwifarms.net
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- Sep 10, 2018
An article I came across by "your fat friend." It's called: Who would I be if I weren't fat? Here are some of the highlights.
“You’ve got quite a sense of humor. Do you think that comes from being fat? Do you think you’re overcompensating?”
“I don’t,” I say, and notice a wavering kind of certainty in my voice. “But then, I don’t know who I’d be if I wasn’t fat.”
I find myself dizzy with the lives I could’ve led, sick with possibility. The question keeps me up at night until I finally, reluctantly, swear it off, knowing it to be as unanswerable as a Zen koan: What is the sound of one hand clapping? Who would you be if you had a different body?
During sleepless nights with this specter of a question, I find myself searching for the many ways I have learned to overcompensate for my body. I learned painfully young that my body is a debt that can never be paid and that debtors are everywhere, constantly exacting their price. So I learned to overcompensate. Yes, through humor. But it runs so much deeper than that. Anti-fatness has shown me that most fat friends are only kept around for what we can offer…. So I give, even when I know I can’t. Even when I shouldn’t.
I am often generous beyond my means, both with money and attention, in all but my longest-term, deepest friendships. Anti-fatness has shown me that most fat friends are only kept around for what we can offer: a shoulder to cry on, a void to scream into, an echo chamber, someone to pick up the check, some extra cash when they need it.
I avoid joining friends at the old movie theaters I love for fear of leaving with bruises from their unforgiving seats or for fear of agitating another viewer.
Instead of wondering who I’d be if I had been thin, I begin to ask a different question: Who would I be if anti-fatness ended today? What kind of life would I lead? How would my friendships and relationships change? What fullness would I step into, and what relics would fall away?
Link to article: https://humanparts.medium.com/the-ever-shrinking-world-of-fat-people-d6d31f582847
“You’ve got quite a sense of humor. Do you think that comes from being fat? Do you think you’re overcompensating?”
“I don’t,” I say, and notice a wavering kind of certainty in my voice. “But then, I don’t know who I’d be if I wasn’t fat.”
I find myself dizzy with the lives I could’ve led, sick with possibility. The question keeps me up at night until I finally, reluctantly, swear it off, knowing it to be as unanswerable as a Zen koan: What is the sound of one hand clapping? Who would you be if you had a different body?
During sleepless nights with this specter of a question, I find myself searching for the many ways I have learned to overcompensate for my body. I learned painfully young that my body is a debt that can never be paid and that debtors are everywhere, constantly exacting their price. So I learned to overcompensate. Yes, through humor. But it runs so much deeper than that. Anti-fatness has shown me that most fat friends are only kept around for what we can offer…. So I give, even when I know I can’t. Even when I shouldn’t.
I am often generous beyond my means, both with money and attention, in all but my longest-term, deepest friendships. Anti-fatness has shown me that most fat friends are only kept around for what we can offer: a shoulder to cry on, a void to scream into, an echo chamber, someone to pick up the check, some extra cash when they need it.
I avoid joining friends at the old movie theaters I love for fear of leaving with bruises from their unforgiving seats or for fear of agitating another viewer.
Instead of wondering who I’d be if I had been thin, I begin to ask a different question: Who would I be if anti-fatness ended today? What kind of life would I lead? How would my friendships and relationships change? What fullness would I step into, and what relics would fall away?
Link to article: https://humanparts.medium.com/the-ever-shrinking-world-of-fat-people-d6d31f582847
