I’m sitting in the lobby of Patterson Hall, the English building on the University of Memphis campus, and exactly four minutes ago a random woman took my picture as she waited in line at the Edgar Allen Joe’s coffee shop (located in the middle of the lobby) WITHOUT ASKING. It’s awkward, uncomfortable and creepy. I wish I could say it was the first time, but it’s not. It happens to me quite frequently actually.
In the age of technology, arguably the fastest way for someone to get likes on a Facebook post is to post an unflattering photo of someone the poster has deemed to be of less value and make fun of that person. It works. I see it all the time, and I have seen the practice explode since I first joined Facebook six years ago. I just never realized then that I would wind up being the person of less value over and over again.
I’m fat, and the internet knows it several times over, I’m sure.
People (like the woman who took my photo) are obsessed with weight and fatness. Shows like TLC’s “My 600 Pound Life” have created a stereotype of a fat person that includes not being able to walk or bathe and eating enough food in a day to feed four normal people for three days. And while that’s true for some fat people, it isn’t the reality for most of us.
The W8H8 (weight hate– get it?) goes so deep that I honestly think my friends and even strangers are much more obsessed with my weight than I am. I don’t like being fat, but I don’t spend every second of my day thinking about it…. until I have to deal with people who do.
People are often surprised that I enjoy photos, and when I ask why, their silence implies that they thought my weight should be making me run from the camera. My own “friends” have failed to invite me to parties and nights out because they assumed I wouldn’t want to be seen in my “current state.” I enjoy going out, and if I stay in, it’s because I’m tired or need time to myself, NOT because I’m embarrassed to be seen. (WTH?)
I can’t tell you how many of my friends have brought up their need to diet or exercise and then apologized to me for being insensitive or proceeded to mention how their needs really didn’t compare to mine, expecting me to be upset that they wanted to get in shape or fit into an old pair of jeans, BECAUSE I’M SO MUCH FATTER.
My weight has nothing to do with him wanting to look good to pick up chicks now that he is divorced, with her wanting to be in shape so that she can keep up with the kids she hopes to have a little further down the road, with his desire to build muscle and join the military or with her wanting to fit back into the clothes she wore five years ago.
Why would it bother me that someone else wants to get healthier? I like eating healthily too. But they don’t see that possibility. And they don’t see me.
To them, I’m not a person. I’m a fat person, because all they can see is my weight. That’s it. Just the fatness. They don’t see Paula at all; they see Fatty Fat-Fat McFatterson.
I don’t advocate for BEING obese, because well– why in the hell would anyone do that? It’s not a great aspiration. But I do advocate for kindness, which I think should be shown to everyone, even fatties like myself.
This sounds like a character lesson for kindergarteners, but there’s obviously a need for it. Sure, I’m fat and unattractive. SO WHAT? There are great things about me too, and the best one is that I see PEOPLE, not just their attributes. I just wish those people would extend the same courtesy.