(NB: This is my personal take on a blog written by my girl Dimonique, which is available for viewing here. The statements expressed in this blog are my personal observations toward myself and myself alone, and while some of them may seem humorous and others self-deprecating, I’m stone serious about everything I have to say. It also bears stating, before I forget, that I saw all the comments to Dimonique's blog, and while I know y'all were trying HARD to relate to what she feels... what I'm feeling here... most folks under a size 18 have no fucking clue what we're talking about. You get bigger and feel wild in your clothes and such but when the WORLD doesn't fit it's a whole different story.)
Y'all might want to get a drink... this is a LONG one.
I've been what people politely referred to as a "big girl" ever since my late teenage years. I was once an athlete -- I played volleyball and would sometimes lift weights with the wrestling team. Of course, after graduation and almost complete cessation of any regular exercise, my weight started going up... my grandmother tried to shame me into losing weight but it didn't work, you see because in my house, before anything else, first and foremost was education. I was always taught to believe that nobody could beat me on the basis of my brains.... and that everything else that so many people get caught up in (the war of lightskinned v. darkskinned, being popular, being a little heavy) were just non-issues for me.
I remember once working myself insane (riding approximately 15 miles on a stationary bike in an hour every night for a month and seriously monitoring every bite, every calorie that went into my mouth) and losing about 20 pounds. That was a 17 year old me who hadn't had to worry about the ravages that pregnancy inflicts on a body. Even at 205 lbs (I'm five seven) I was the classic definition of a brick shithouse - 40DD chest, defined waist and hips reminiscent of a coke bottle.
I got married two and a half years after that and somewhere along the way (possibly when I started an office job) I became REALLY sedentary, and the weight crept on slowly... so much that I really didn't even pay attention because I was busy dealing with a young child, a failing marriage and trying to keep my household afloat.
After my divorce, I entered the dating scene with a vengeance. Because of my upbringing, I had all kinds of personality -- and it didn't hurt that people would fall all over me to tell me how pretty I was (even the ones who tried to temper their compliments with the "it's a shame you're so big, because you're BEAUTIFUL" couldn't bring me down). I never had a problem getting asked out, and I was HELLA social. My friends NEVER treated me like a fat girl, even though I have always been the largest of my circle. I was NEVER the girl that other girls would drag on dates to put off on a friend for the express purpose of calling it an early night and cockblocking should HER thing go awry. I was not (and am not) the girl that the skinny girls took to the club to sit at the table and hold their purses while they danced and socialized. Whyyabullshittin... I'd have my keys, my cell phone, my ID, and my debit card/cash in my bra, we'd agree where to meet back up and I'd dance the night away. (and back in my mid 20's to earlier 30's, I was a partying/dancing FOOL).
Even as my weight continued it's steady, slow uptake, I was in denial. I didn't have a lot of the issues other very large women had... self-esteem was firmly in check... I kept myself well-groomed and I knew how to act. I had a friend who was pressed as hell to have gastric bypass surgery. She was a size 28 and wanted to be a 2. That boggled my mind. I've never wanted to be that size. I felt that her motivation was somewhat misplaced, but I understood her struggle and her desire for acceptance. I was never a person who ate like the people you see on the Discovery Channel. I enjoyed real food in copious amounts, but I was never one to eat four Big Macs and four large orders of fries, or a dozen eggs and a pound of bacon at a time. To me that was ridiculous. For the longest time the idea of surgery was COMPLETELY out of the question for me, until I started having a lot of back problems.
I had my procedure in January of 1999 and over the course of the next year I lost a fair amount of weight, but I was still a big woman. I worked out RELIGIOUSLY for a long time, and I was STILL big by normal size people standards. I'd rollerblade or do a combination of walking/jogging on my lunch hour and I skated six miles a day during the week and complete a 10 miler one weekend day. I also owned a NordicTrack and used to hit that joker intensely for about 45 minutes a day five days a week.
Some people treated me differently, some people expected me to become all wild and dress wild, but the opposite happened. I saw the change in the world's reaction to me and sort of retreated into myself.
I realize that I wasted an opportunity and let life get in the way and after about the fourth year, the weight started creeping back up and I'm sad to say that I have indeed gained it ALL back. A couple of years ago I started going to the gym -- 45 minutes on the elliptical and half hour on the recumbent bike and then weights three times a week but I got discouraged and gave it up.
I've given the world this HUGE lead-in.... because I have to say that I realize every inch of my considerable bulk, and frankly... I'm nervous. I'm nervous as hell. I wonder if the day is coming soon when I may have to purchase TWO tickets on an airline. (I already need a seat belt extender). I've become somewhat antisocial, and part of it is a function of maturity -- I don't do the clubs anymore, but I find myself fading back more than I ever used to even when I'm in the midst of "family." It's not easy to be this size at a Bike Rally where the wardrobe is bikinis and it's flesh on parade. True indeed... I sucked it up to a certain extent and got my pool and jacuzzi on but I had to swallow a supersized dose of self-conscious reality. Yes, I'm typically the biggest chick on the set -- I still get some love but eh.. ?
Hell... I get much bigger and I might not be ABLE to do a sportbike comfortably and I am NOT a cruiser girl.All kinds of shit flows through my head as a fat woman. I despise the term BBW because I don't think there's anything beautiful about rolls of back fat that are bigger than your boobs (NOTE: I don't have that problem, just making an observation.) or tons of cellulite.
I wonder if I've reached that size where people have to tell their children not to stare or point. (I've never caught anyone looking in horrified amazement). I don't wear shorts -- even in the hottest part of the summer. I avoid amusement parks like the plague: yes, I have had to leave a ride because the safety bar wouldn't click (I think it was that Superman thing @ Six Flags). Movie theater seats are tight. Depending on how I have the seat reclined, the seatbelts on the driver's side of Darryl's car are tight. (I don't have that problem on the passenger side, WTF?) Going to restaurants is also a bit of a nail biter because I'm cautious about squeezing by people AND about squeezing into tables and/or booths that are uncomfortable. Let's not even talk about when I used to ride the Metro to work. I would stand all the way to Greenbelt even when I was exhausted to avoid getting the gasface from someone who didn't want to be all squeezed up against me. I even thought about getting an elliptical machine recently and was somewhat shocked to learn that most commercially available exercise equipment isn't built for folks in my particular weight class. Y'all have no idea how shameful that is.... because it limits the options of how you get started. I guess I'll have to do some walking and some simpler workout videos before I get into really intense cardio.
I watch movies and I think... if that was me... I'd be dead. Example... y'all remember that scene in "Speed" where they were yanking people out of that elevator that was about to fall? DEAD. DEAD I tell you. Either that or they would have had to get me out first, with three pulling in the front and two pushing behind. I think of "Daylight" and "Poseidon" and think about having to crawl through small spaces and saying... "Welp Lord... I guess it's my time, huh?"
I spoke of retooling my dress form last week or so. What I didn't tell was that after I was cut out of it, Wicked was clowning around and she put it on. I was horrified because she looked like she was wearing a fat suit -- and even more so because that suit was cast from MY BODY! (As I type this, Dr. Phil's words are echoing in my head... "that fat suit unzips from the inside". I hate him but I have to admit he has a point there.) I screamed at her to "Take it off! Take it off NOW." She looked ridiculous. I started to wonder, "Is that what people see when they see ME?"
The other night before my birthday celebration I had to change clothes and I wanted to wear a pair of gorgeous Kenneth Cole sandals that have an ankle strap. I had a similar pair of Nine West a number of years ago and I didn't have too much trouble getting them strapped (but I was a little smaller then). When I tell y'all I had to do advanced yoga to get them blickies strapped and by the time I was done I was sweating? I am SO serious. (Who I was fooling trying to wear shoes with a four inch heel anyway?) My vanity would simply not allow me to go out for my special night as anything less than a complete Diva. Believe me when I tell you, however, that even though I spent another evening celebrating both my day and another person's last night, I was comfortably attired in my regular uniform (boot cut black pants and a pullover, and my EASY SPIRITS!
I try not to let the matter get to me cause I'm not out there on the bike set or whatever to hook up with guys. I have a luxury that a lot of really large women don't and that's that I TRULY do not care if I never go on another first date as long as I live. The truth for a lot of younger women is that they are searching for that someone special to share their lives with. What's truly sad is that in a lot of cases, the only men that will date larger women are seriously deficient in some area of their life, or are only looking for easy pussy because some of us fat girls take whatever we can get when we can get it. (Be well-assured that I am NOT among that number.)
It's still hard to wrap my mind around it all, though, because I had a complete physical earlier this year, and my numbers completely defy what the scale says. I'm highly flexible -- I can still do splits; if I use a balance ball I can bend over backward and do a "bridge"; and I can stand up, bend at the waist and put my hands flat on the floor and I know a LOT of women HALF my size who can't do that. I'm still stronger and with more muscle underneath all this pudge than folks might think -- don't get me wrong -- I'm not trying to put candy coating on bullshit and serve them as M&M's. I know I won't always have the advantage of youth to fall back on, however. I know that I'm smart ... the world reinforces to me regularly that I am still beautiful and fly and witty and hilarious and a great catch but deep down inside the truth is eating away at me (pardon the pun).
What's the truth?
I.... am a fat girl... in a way that is just sincerely NOT ACCEPTABLE anymore... and the time is long gone for me to do something about it. I'm nervous because I almost don't know where to start. I know that there is no magic pill or button to push. It's going to be a really long, uphill battle and I'm not likely to share much of that struggle openly, but I felt like I needed to put a voice to my feelings on the matter.
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