What? I'm Fat??

Yes, somewhat inspired by the brilliant episode of Louis C.K, which has spurred on a load on internet discussion among my group of friends...but also inspired by, you know, my life...and I have more than a blogpost amount to say about that.

"Heavy" since 3rd grade.  A "voluptuous" teenager/young adult.  "Morbidly Obese" now.  That sounds sexy and fun, doesn't it?  I feel the need to justify that my actual weight only makes me "obese", but because I'm the lucky recipient of hereditary diabetes (another justification), that flips me right into that special "morbidly" category.  But you know what?  I'm done caring.

Imagine this conversation, if you would...between, let's say a black man and a white woman:
BM-So, you don't mind that I'm black?
WW- Oh, don't say that.  You're not black.
BM- Um, pretty sure I am.
WW- No, stop saying that about yourself!
BM- But...I AM.

Now, trade out the word fat for black.  I'm so done with people having the word fat be such a negative thing.  (Old, too, while we're at it, but I'll just pick one battle with society for today.)  Guess what?  I'm fat.  I'm also quite happily married to a (not fat) guy who yes, started dating me when I was a fair bit smaller than I am now, but married me at 206 pounds.  Yes, that's how much I weighed when I got married, and guess what else?  That's give or take 5 pounds what I weigh now.  Did you hear that shattering sound?  The universe combusting over an overweight woman giving the internet her actual, non driver's license (185), non 'size card' (200) weight and not because she's about to start on the next season of The Biggest Loser?  No?  Well, I'm pretty sure it was ready to...maybe it didn't because it really doesn't matter one freaking bit.

Am I a good wife?  Yes.  I support my husband in whatever way he needs, I'm a good partner, his best friend, his biggest fan and he adores me.  My husband wants me healthy and happy, but loves me at any weight and I could call him into this room right now to have sex with me and he'd leave his past deadline work pile and drag his feverish, sickly self in here to take care of business...so THAT isn't an issue.
Am I a good mother?  Sometimes, that's debatable but for the 2 incredibly awesome kids I have somehow managed to produce through all my insanity, so maybe for today's purposes we'll say yes.
Am I a good friend?  Without question.
Good at my job?  Great at it, actually.

I also eat healthfully and I exercise.  Don't believe me?  My afternoon snack today?  1/2 cup of raspberries and 6 almonds.  My dinner?  Spinach quinoa patties with hummus, taboule, and tomato.  My next 5K scheduled for June 21st.  My cholesterol is 147.  My blood pressure last week came in at 108/67.  Liver function is normal, as are my kidneys.  Even my diabetes bloodwork matches that of a non-diabetic, now that I function as my own pancreas.  I.  Am. Good.  Fat does not automatically mean unhealthy.  Skinny does not automatically mean healthy.  So, what's with the naughtiness of the fat word?  Why is it SO terrible to be fat?  When my kids were little, if they called my belly fat I'd get over the initial "ouch" feeling and pretend to laugh and I'd say- "yeah, mama's belly IS fat isn't it?  And squishy!" and then I'd tickle them and we'd move on.  Because I wanted them to live in a world (at least for a little while) where an accurate descriptive word was NOT bad.  I want to change the world, even if it's just my little world...but my kids didn't live in a bubble.  They went to school where because they weren't tiny stick figures they got called fat...and they'd come home sad until I explained to them that it didn't MATTER what they looked like, kids smell weakness.  They could just as easily have been made fun of for the color of their hair, for the length of their chins, for the dimple on their nose or for the skinny legs they don't have...kids find things to make fun of.  I explained to them that they needed to buck up and figure out how to deal with whatever the hurtful words were because even if they were the skinniest kids on earth, someone, someday would find a reason to pick on them.

I was walking in the parking lot of a store last week, when a 20 something man called me a fat cow.  This happens more often than you'd think.  I hadn't taken his parking spot, I hadn't done anything. I was just walking to my car. He just did it.  Sadly, he chose the wrong person, because what came out of my mouth was something to this effect:
"Why do guys like you always think that's some kind of great insult?  I've been married for 16 years to a hot guy who thinks I'm FINE.  I've probably had more sex in my life than you will EVER have (and am sure I'm better at it).  I am more healthy, happy, and fulfilled than you could ever imagine being...and YOU think pointing out one of the most OBVIOUS FACTS about me is going to hurt me somehow??  Your brain must be as small as your penis."

Have to admit, was pretty pleased with the last bit.

So how do we do this?  How do we make the word fat as innocuous as the word tall or short or silly or redheaded or whatever?  I'm starting with me.  You can too.  Call me your fat friend Ariella.  I don't care.  It's TRUE.  If you're lucky enough to be my friend, anyway.

The movie PITCH PERFECT has a character, played by the actress Rebel Wilson who goes by the name Fat Amy...by her own logic she says she knows the girls are going to call her fat anyway so they may as well do it to her face.  The movie does a fabulous job of making her not apologize for her weight, in fact she joins the singing group cause she's tired of all her boyfriends...as a fat actress, I am always worried about the portrayal of the fat character, and I'm happy they did it well.  So did Louis.  And so will I.  I don't need to be fat BUT with a pretty face...or sexy DESPITE the fact that I'm fat.  I can just just be all of those things.  And it can be ok.

My favorite fat joke?  (only Harry Potter fans will get it).
Yo mama is so fat that her patronus is a cake.