“The Skinny on Fat” Pep Talk

If you ask my doctor, I’m obese. If you ask my momma, I’ve got meat on my bones. If you ask my former neighbor, I’m a fat bitch. If you ask the fashion industry, I’m a freakish subhuman creature who barely deserves to wear clothes, much less live.

If you ask me, it’s all nonsense. I’m fat. And people like to try to tiptoe around it (except for my former neighbor, who wasn’t being honest so much as he was trying to insult me).

Anyway you look at it, it’s OK. Really. It doesn’t mean I’m stupid or lazy or ugly or selfish or inept or slow or anything like that. It’s not a reflection on my character. Fat is simply a physical description that suits me. And it suits a very large number of people, so I’ve got plenty of company.

If you want the numbers, I’m 5’10” and I wear a 24W most of the time. (Which means, if you need a visual, that I’m the same size and height as Camryn Manheim.) Sometimes it’s a 22W or a 26W, depending on where I shop. And, oh, isn’t shopping grand? It’s not that I don’t like how I look in the clothes I try on in stores, it’s simply that most stores don’t carry my size. Which is fine. If they don’t want money from my fat little hands, then I won’t shop at their store. (I don’t want their purses or socks anyway, which are the only things that fit me in most clothes stores.)

Retailers aren’t the only ones who don’t want fat people around. Plenty of skinny people hate fat people for no other reason than size. Why? I mean, if you’re going to hate me, don’t do it just because I’m fat when I’ve got tons of other reasons:

I’m a bitch. I never call or return emails. I love the Tick. I can’t remember birthdays or anniversaries. I’m a fiscal conservative. I have an obsession with Firefly (especially Jayne Cobb – bunk). I’m fiercely independent. I love Taco Bell. I know most everything. I’m a former Christian. I don’t know or care how much I weigh. I quote Gilbert and Sullivan inappropriately. I think I’m funny. I think pink guns are gorgeous. I love carrots. I think I’m atheist or agnostic. I’m all about being fat and happy. And I’m better than you.

There. Now you can hate me properly, for the right reasons.

So if I’m all about being fat and happy, why am I on the Warrior Diet? Well, that’s a complicated question. I want to feel better. I want to feel good. No, more than that, I want to feel goddamn great. The last 18 months have been hell, for various reasons (none of which are directly related to my weight, though the 30 pounds I’ve gained this past year is part of the problem). It’s left my body feeling old and painful at times.

I’m 32; that ain’t right. I’m too young to feel this old. And I’ve heard that the live food thing that the Warrior Diet espouses really makes you feel good. That’s what I want. I want to be healthy and I want to feel f’n fantastic. With that in mind, the Warrior Diet isn’t really a “diet” in the traditional sense of the word; it’s not one that I’m going to follow for a while then leave when I’ve lost weight. It’s one I plan on following forever if it makes me feel good. If not, I’ll try something else.

Do I want to loose weight? I’d like to be somewhere around a size 16W or so, ideally. (BTW, 16W is considered “fat” by most people. Seriously, a 12W model is considered “plus sized.”) I may never reach 16W. It may never happen. But, it may. Regardless, it’s not going to change who I am or how I feel about myself. Oh, I’ll joke whenever someone posts a pic of a skinny beauty that I need to lose weight or work out or something. It’s a joke, and not indicative of my feelings of self worth.

Don’t think (because of a few jokes) that my self worth is inversely related to my clothes size. It isn’t. (Making fun of me is something at which I excel. So I do it often. Some people don’t get it and mistake it for self esteem problems. Dolts.) Besides, I’ve got plenty going for me (for example: my ability to write a freaking book of a post about a topic I’d only planned on briefly mentioning – sheesh).

But, some will argue, we’re in the middle of an obesity epidemic. Well, yeah. But I’m not touting the merits of sitting around munching cupcakes, eating fast food, watching TV, and gorging on cokes in your sweats. That’s certainly a cause of obesity (and it may be the leading cause of obesity in the US – I don’t know – it is portrayed that way by the entertainment industry), but it’s not the lifestyle I advocate. We all know that it’s important to eat right and exercise plenty.

Here’s the thing most people don’t get, even the skinny ones: If you eat right, exercise plenty and are still fat, your life isn’t over.

And yeah. There are plenty of people who do just what they’re supposed to do to be fit, and yet are never considered within acceptable weight ranges. Besides, most people who lose weight gain it all back within the first few years anyway. And by “most” I don’t mean, “a slim majority, like 60 percent.” Oh no. I mean, “98 freaking percent of people who lose weight and stick to their diets afterwards will still regain the weight.” So there’s no use basing my self worth on a smaller dress size that will likely be transitory if I obtain it at all.

So I told you all of that to tell you this. It’s my new mantra, and I developed it through the overly-long junk I wrote above.

Don’t wait to live. Don’t wait on that smaller dress size to feel f’n fantastic. Now  is all anybody ever has. Don’t waste it waiting on ifs  and maybes.

(I know. One and a half pages to get to the point… which was four sentences. Like I said, I’m a verbose bitch. Feel free to hate me for it. It is, after all, an unjust world. And virtue is triumphant only in theatrical performances.)

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11 comments on ““The Skinny on Fat” Pep Talk

  1. pajama momma says:

    I consider myself “thick”.

    What sucks is when we go visit hubby’s friends in California who are all in the surf/skate/snowboarding industry, I’m pretty much morbidly obese and might as well have buckets of Kentucky Fried Chicken shipped to my bedroom, compared to the women those guys date.

    Can you say longest run on sentence ever?

  2. Abbadon says:

    Aw, geez, you guys, curvy women rock!

    Not everyone in California appreciates the Auschwitz look.

  3. Verbosity is sexy, Prudie; don’t ever, ever doubt it.

    We’d be good friends, if we lived nearer together.

  4. Prudie says:

    PJ, Longest run on sentance ever? Ha. You can’t judge your looks by California women… they’re in a class all alone. And I don’t mean that in an entirely good way.

    I don’t use euphamisms for “fat” any longer like “fluffy” or whatever. I’m fat. That’s not a bad word. [/moral highground]

    Abbadon, I don’t want the Auschwitz look. (Which, ew.) I just want to feel f’n fantastic. It’s my new goal in life.

    localmalcontent, we can still be good friends! (…in a fakey, internet, bloggish, friend-like immitation kind of way.) :)

  5. pajama momma says:

    Well I still want to be a chunky monkey just cuz I like the name. ;)

  6. holly says:

    Firefly ROCKS and you are my new hero. Just found your blog and you’re everything I’d want in a woman and more if I swung that way…lol.
    I’m a mid 40’s mom of 2 , living in So California. I was exactly where you are 10 years ago, but with a much crappier attitude. Wish I’d known ya then!

  7. Prudie says:

    holly, thanks! Er, I’m sure that if I were into chicks I’d be totally into you, too. I guess. Anyway, thanks.

    PJM, OK chunky monkey.

    Great. Now I crave ice cream.

  8. pajama momma says:

    mmmmmmmmmmmm, breyer’s rocky road. nummy

  9. Prudie says:

    Moose Tracks…. OMG. I’ve got to go to the grovery store now.

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