I have always prided myself on being a happy fat girl. I am content with myself, I like myself, I had no complaints. That is, until I decided to lose weight for health reasons. It seems that in order to be motivated to lose weight, I had to change my perspective. Now I am miserable. I have finally discovered self hate.
Allow me to explain.
Last Thursday, I flew to San Diego from Boise for a family funeral. On the first plane from Boise to Salt Lake, I sat next to a very large man. Now, I am a big girl, so I have always had sympathy and compassion for the large people. But not this time. This time, I was a judger. I was grumpy that his big fat arms were poking me, that I was practically in the aisle to accommodate his overflow into my seat. I was disgusted by the alcohol fumes sweating off his body. I was judging. Then, on one of the 3 flights left to my really not fun weekend, I had an experience where I was the fat one that people dread sitting next to. I could see it on their face as I approached the only seat left on the plane. I was sweaty from having had to RUN THROUGH THE AIRPORT to make my connection. I was breathing heavy. I could see it on their faces, the 'oh no' as they exited to give me my window seat. I tried to squeeze myself smaller, so that I wasn't spilling over into the middle seat (also known as 'fat person plane ediquite'). I know I was successful, but I was unhappy and uncomfortable and self conscious the whole time.
Then, last night on St. Patricks Day. My sister and I and a friend had gone out to a Very crowded bar. Perhaps the man didn't think I could hear him from one foot away, but he was making a point to his crowd of friends that fat ugly girls shouldn't wear 'Kiss Me I'm Irish' because it's not like anyone wants to. Then, all 4 of them looked at me and laughed. To make it worse, both of the women were these tall, reedy amazon blonds with perfect skin and hair. I felt something then that I have never before felt about myself. Shame.
If that had happened to me last St. Pats, or even last New Years, I would have said something flippant, rude, (equally rude) or punched the guy in the nuts. But last night, I walked away, feeling that he must have a point. Of course, my fierce little sister was all for the punching in the nuts idea when I told her what happened, and although I was ready to go home, she dragged me to another bar and proceeded to feed me purple vikings until I was having a good time again, but when I woke up this morning, the Shame... it was still there.
I don't like this world, where fitting in means judging yourself by other people's standards. I don't like that people feel comfortable mocking others based on their looks (no matter what they may be). And I really, really don't like feeling like I am ugly when before this stupid weight loss issue, I truly felt myself to be a goddess.
Mean people suck.