Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Fatophobe

To the guy on the train that was seriously fat phobic... kiss my ass.

So... I have this aspect to my personality that allows other people to feel that they can say anything to me.  Usually I don't mind this aspect at all - I have really interesting conversations with people whose names I will never know about a whole host of things.  I've heard about their marriage problems, their sexual fantasies, their shopping woes, and more.  A great majority of the time I am perfectly willing to chat and listen to them as people fascinate me and they seem to need to tell someone, so it might as well be me.

About eight percent of the time I'm just in a hurry and don't really have the time to listen, which makes me feel bad, but I just need to scootch.

About five percent of the time, though, this aspect allows people to say some really horrible stuff to me.  It's upsetting.

On occasions where I exist in a group and I have neither been the fattest or the thinnest, the prettiest or the homeliest, the most put together or the most a mess, people have chosen me to say horrible things to.

Also, I'm not a skinny girl.  I'm learning to embrace the term BBW but for reasons both personal and insecure I'm still having some trouble with it.

Basically... I'm fat.

Both of these facts about me combined last night to create a very uncomfortable ride home.

Running to Penn with some sprightly music playing in my earbuds, I managed to make the early train, which is rare, and usually by the time I slide into the car it's fairly packed.  Most of the time I must stand for the ride home when I make the early train as I'm just late enough to miss out on a good spot.

Last night, however, I managed to find a seat. Yay!

Now, I know I'm not a little girl, I'm very aware of this in public (how can I not be?), and I try to contain myself and my belongings without spilling over onto any neighbors.  As I slid into the seat last night, though, the guy sitting by the window reacted as though I had cooties. 

I hoped that it was only because he was hoping no one would sit by him and that it wasn't personal.

I was wrong.

He grabbed his bag tighter and slid as close to the window as he could with a mumbled, "Ugh," of disgust.  He acted as though what I have is catching.  That just by being in my general vicinity his weight was bound to increase.  Oh goody.

Still enjoying my music I hear another mumble, something along the lines of, "... disgusting ..."

OK.

As my song finished, in that breath of air before the next one kicked in, I heard, "How does a person let themselves get so fat?  Bleechh," also mumbled.

It occurred to me in this moment that he has probably been talking non-stop since I sat down, and but for the music in my ears I would have heard the entire monologue.

Just then the conductor came by looking for tickets. I flashed him my phone which displays my ticket and said, "Thank you," which got a grunt and an eye roll from my friend.

He couldn't seem to get his ticket to show on his phone, though, and as the conductor stood there waiting patiently, my friend angrily said, "You know... I have a ticket so you're just gonna to have to wait. It won't come up."

"You should pull up the ticket before you get on the train so we don't have this problem.  I'll be back soon to see the ticket," the conductor replied in complete monotone, totally used to this trick.

"Yeah, yeah.  Whatever," my friend said as the conductor sidled away.  A moment later came a low, "Asshole."

So, basically, this guy is a peach.

It was at this point that I pulled out my phone and sent a text to my boyfriend: 

Would it be crazily rude of me to kick this mean guy in the shins or should I just glare at him and think mean thoughts in my head?

"It's just gross," came another mumble.

No kicking came the quick reply, which made me giggle.

My friend then quietly questioned the Universe, "Why do all the fat people always sit by me?"

I looked right at him for the first time and said in a complete deadpan, "We had a meeting."

I scared the shit out of him - he hadn't realized that I could hear him, what with my earbuds being in and all.  He looked flabbergasted.

Good.

He continued to sputter for a moment then curled closer to the window, still seemingly afraid of my fat cooties.  He wouldn't want to catch the fat, after all.

I relayed this little exchange to my boyfriend who declared me the winner, which also made me giggle.

We spent the rest of the ride in silence, thankfully, no more muttered invectives from my friend.

As I got up to exit the train I looked at him for the second time and said, "Have a good night."

He looked scandalized - I couldn't tell if it was because he got caught or because a fat girl dared talk to him.  Either way I wasn't sorry.

His comments stuck with me for most of the night.  They made me sad more than anything.  Sad that people still have such a harsh reaction to weight.

I've been learning to accept myself for the past several years and so far I've been doing well.  I even like myself now.  I could stay at this weight for the rest of my life and be perfectly content.

Then it occurred to me that my weight is on a lot of people's minds and that also made me sad.

When I lose a little weight, friends comment that I look good! "You look so much better!  You had gotten big there!"

Other friends tell me, with the best of intentions, that they were talking with yet more friends about how much better I look now.  Apparently it's a popular topic.

Some friends and family tell me that they don't care about what I weigh, they love me anyway (in spite of, is what I think they mean), that they just want ME to be happy.

Well... sure.  But here's the thing: thin doesn't equal happy, it only equals thin.  Fat doesn't equal unhappy, it only equals fat.  These states of being don't come with any emotion attached until someone else puts one there.  Other people add shame, guilt, disgust.  Without the comments and looks from others the fat or thin would just be, just exist, sans emotion.  Funny, that.

It's ironic that the bigger I am the less visible I seem to be in the world, but that has nothing to do with happy either.  People will see what they want to see.  If they choose to look more deeply, they'll see the best parts of me. If not, I have no problem remaining invisible to them.

This isn't the first time someone has said these things to me, and it won't be the last, which is the saddest part of all.   

My friend from the train and others like him will never see me, never see the happy girl I am.  The cool girl.  He'll only look and notice the fat.

Their loss.

So... to the guy on the train that was seriously fat phobic... you need to get over it.  I wish for you the ability to look and see, not just notice.  I hope you never make another person feel as small as you made me feel last night.  I hope you learned something, I know I sure did.

In the meantime, though, you can kiss my entire ass.




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