No One Is Happy Being Fat

In the several years that I’ve been blogging, I’ve pissed off and offended many people. I’ve pissed off my sister, friends, and fellow bloggers. My father was in for a bit of an uncomfortable shock when he stumbled upon my blog heralding the joys of oral sex. Hey, everyone is forewarned!

Then there was the time I pissed off the Christians by saying how creepy I found it when random ones would approach me in parking lots asking if I had given any consideration to where I’d spend eternity. Um, not recently, but I am considering giving you a snoutful of this mace in my purse. After that, I pissed of an Asian girl when I wrote an open letter to all the Asian girls on my campus. Listen, it’s not my fault they all dress like they’re going to the club instead of class.

Along the way there have been countless more, I’m sure – white people when I talk about white boys going white boy crazy, Floridians when I say it’s the child molester capital of the world, black people when I wonder why they can’t ever get their ass to a movie on time and then shut the fuck up while it’s on, Republicans simply for being douchebags, etc., etc.

Today, I’m gonna piss off fat people.

(Writer’s Note: It is truly not my intention to piss anyone off. I just like to say that I am. It keeps you reading. This is meant to be equal part humor, self-deprecation, and motivation. This is for all the people who complain about their weight, yet won’t do anything about it – at least not consistently. And I’m throwing stones at my glass walls. If you are fat/overweight (whatever word you like) and happy with yourself, then do you, boo. Do you.)

Being fat sucks. Anyone who is fat and says they are happy are lying. No one is happy being fat. Sure, you can be fat and have a great job. You can be fat and married to the man/woman of your dreams. You can be fat and have the most wonderful kids and the most fabulous friends. You can be fat and go on the most luxurious of vacations every year. You can be fat and drive a nice car, screw a hot girl, and wear the most expensive clothes. And all of those things may make you happy, but you are not happy being fat.

And if you say you are, you’re a big fat liar.

I don’t care what else is going on in your life, if someone told you that you could swallow one pill and get rid of that FUPA or stop having your muffin top muffining over the top of your jeans, you’d swallow that bitch before they could offer you a glass of water.

I am overweight. Yes, most of you are thinking, “It’s okay. You just had a baby.” Well, yeah, but that doesn’t make me any less overweight. Today I told a friend (who is a self-proclaimed “fattie”) that I lost six pounds since last week and recently discovered that I not only fit into a pair of pre-pregnancy jeans, but they are falling off! Instead of being happy for me, she informed that I am not fat. I am a fat faker. Apparently, I am faking the fat funk. She told me that I can no longer use the word fat as it would be considered offensive since I do not belong to the fat club.

OK, sure, I’m not obese or anything, but I am not comfortable. And I knew this would happen. For whatever reason, I turn into a beast when I’m pregnant. I just do. It’s all la la la until the third trimester and then my footsteps on the second floor have Donny casting wary glances at the ceiling and wondering if the flat screen one the first floor is mounted to the wall securely.

When you are fat.. I mean, overweight, it is always there. When you’re playing on the floor with your kids, the fat is crouched in the corner, a reminder that you’d be able to play more and without losing your breath if you’d just lose 20lbs. When you’re typing away on the laptop, the fat reminds you that a year ago the laptop rested on smaller, firmer, thighs. When you walk into your closet the fat reminds you that there’s a whole wardrobe you can no longer fit.

I have felt all of those things and it sucks. And if I feel that, if I know the dread that comes with being invited out, but turning down the invitation because you can’t wear your nice clothes and can’t bear to buy something new in your new fat size, then I’m sure people who are fat/obese are downright miserable.

I used to get so mad watching Star Jones on The View. She’d always make remarks about how confident she was with this “big is beautiful/more to love” bravado. The whole time though, she’s breathing heavily and coughing up powdered sugar. If you’re out of breath from talking while sitting, something ain’t right. I thought the message she was putting out was a dangerous one. I believe in personal responsibility, but I wondered how many women with weight problems were watching and let that pump them up or allow them to lie to themselves. Now, after surgery, she admits that her health was in danger and she was unhappy. No shit.

It sucks when you let the fat stop you from living your life. Let me tell you a story: A few years ago I had discovered Myspace after one of the best seasons of Big Brother (one of my favorite reality shows.) One night, I was looking for friends on the site when I remembered reading that one of the stars of that last season, James R., had been discovered for the show from his Myspace page. I looked him up and sent him a friend request. I knew nothing about Myspace and how it worked. Then I started blogging and building a small audience. One of the first people not related to me to leave a comment on a blog was James. We became friends. A short while later, his girlfriend at the time called to invite me to a surprise dinner party for James. My first thought was that I wouldn’t go because I wasn’t happy with my weight.

I should point out now that:

1. James is hot.

2. No matter how much I love my husband, I will always be one of those women who likes looking her best when in the presence of a good looking man. It doesn’t mean that I love my husband any less or will be any less faithful. But if given a choice, I will always choose NOT to look a hot ass mess around hot guys. And if one of those hot guys should be so bold as to smile and tell me how great I look, I will smile, blush, and get all atwitter at the compliment. It’s how I roll.

I got over my stupid issues, went to the birthday party, and had a great time. I was looking at pics from that night the other day and thought, “What the hell was I smoking?” I would kick a puppy down a flight of stairs to look like that now! Now? Sheeit. Now, James could be pounding on my front door, battered and bruised with a homicidal maniac hot on his ass, and I wouldn’t let him in till I lost 20lbs. I’m just saying.

I have delayed meeting up with an old friend I recently found on Facebook because of baby weight. I have dreaded visits from out-of-town internet friends because of this baby weight. I have turned down invitations for Donny and I to go out to dinner with friends. I have avoided going to my husband’s job because I’m so annoyed with myself and this weight.

And if I’m “not that fat” and I’m living like this, I can only imagine what truly overweight people are feeling and how much life they’re not living. (For the record, I consider myself truly overweight. Being 5’11 only gives you but so much in the way of camouflage.)

There are a bunch of reasons why people can’t/won’t lose weight. Some of it’s medical. Some of it’s just poor lifestyle choices. In my case, there’s this vicious cycle going on. I know how to lose weight. When I focus and get into it, not only do I lose weight quickly, I enjoy it! And because I know I can do it, it’s easier to procrastinate getting started. It’s convenient to say, “I know I can lose 20lbs in three months so who is it going to hurt if I start next week over this one?” The problem is next week turns into the week after and then the week after that.

Who knows? Maybe I have it all wrong. Maybe there are people out there quite loving their flabby bellies and back fat. Maybe there are people out there who, for whatever reason, have just decided to ride the fat thing out. But for those that aren’t happy, for those that can go days with feeling fine until they have to try on a piece of clothing that no longer fits or run into an ex, I hope they/we do something about it. I think we need to make those unhappy moments the rule and not the exception. We need to remember how much we hate it when deciding between fast food and a home cooked meal. We need to remember how much we hate it when we decide to take the elevator over the stairs.

We need to make the decision to be happy and healthy.

***

So, I just had a convo with my friend who is now calling me a fat faker and she feels as if I’m coming off as attacking fat people. Granted, she hasn’t yet read the blog as I type this and this is based on our IM conversation about the blog.

Let me be clear:

• I understand that I am approaching the weight thing from a totally different perspective than someone who has been overweight for many years or their whole life.
• I understand that it is possible to gain weight and like it. Been there. Done that. Rocked the t-shirt. I was a rail before I got pregnant with Kali. I still have clothes from that time and I wouldn’t want to be that skinny again. I liked my post-Kali body once I got it in order. Finally, no more white girl butt! The problem became when I gained 30lbs after that and only lost 20 of that 30 before getting pregnant with Jack. This weight, I’m not happy with.
• Anyone that has been reading me for awhile knows that I don’t make broad generalizations. Of course there are happy fat people. And I’m sure there are people who are happy who happen to be fat and happy WITH THE FAT. I may not understand it, but I’m sure it exists. And come on, would you click on a blog titled, “I’m Sure There Are Fat People Who Like Being Fat, But I’m Not One Of ‘Em. No Offense To You If You’re a Happy Fatty?” I think not.
• I do think people make excuses and I think that making excuses is always easier than putting in the work. Not all overweight people, but some. Definitely people like me. It’s easy to say that eating something that tastes good but is bad for you makes you happy. It’s hard to say that maybe you shouldn’t be eating it right now or that the portion is too big.
• I always say that bad things can happen to good people who are where they’re supposed to be and doing what they’re supposed to be doing. You can be in great shape and get cancer. Knowing that, why take the chance on getting heart disease or diabetes because you can’t control your eating habits?
• My children didn’t ask to be here and I owe it to them to not die at 40 because Mommy couldn’t stop stuffing her face with bad foods.
• If you are overweight and happy with it, I’d like to hear from you.

If you are happy being fat, good for you. For me…