Every Day Fat

June 9, 2008 at 10:48 am (fat, life)

I was walking home the other day when a man in a car pulled up at a stop sign, rolled down his window, leaned out, and screamed obscenities at me. I was walking on a sidewalk on the other side of the street. Among the epitaphs? I’m a fat fucking cow and a land whale. Also, this stranger thinks I should kill myself. Huh. I didn’t know that my being fat was so offensive that a complete stranger felt the need to advise suicide. Oh well, what do I know? I’m not human, I’m an animal… a cow, a whale. I’m so incredibly immense that my only real option is death at my own hands, I guess.

Fuck that noise.

I’m wearing a dress today that has no sleeves. I’m showing off my ham-like upper arms. I don’t usually wear sleeveless stuff less because of my giant beefy arms, but because my armpits are scarred up and I don’t shave my pits regularly because of skin problems. But it’s hot today so fuck it. Everyone gets to see my cheese-pale arms. And possibly my armpits, if they look closely. I don’t really care.

Actually, I do care. I have a short sleeved cardigan with me that I intend to wear while walking home, even though it’s supposed to be another hot day. I am going to wear a sweater in 90 degree weather because the alternative is showing strangers my big fat arms. And I really don’t like when people pull over and verbally abuse me for committing the intense sin of being alive, of existing, of taking up space. So: a sweater that covers my arms, in 90 degree heat.

Once again, most of the fat-related problems I have aren’t due to me being fat. They are due to other people reacting to my fat.

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