Being fat is alot of things.
It’s frustrating, infuriating embarrassing, a turn-off. A barrier, a burden. Isolating and ever-present. Uncomfortable.At the same time, it’s entirely too comfortable. You find comfort in the uncomfortable. Over and over, until the days melt into years and you find yourself looking back, wondering what in the hell happened.
When you’re fat you learn to deal. With a lot. You learn avoidance and coping mechanisms. You laugh at yourself before someone else can. You learn to shut down emotionally, as your body begins the agonizing process of shutting down physically. Easy becomes your middle name–and not in that way.
You crack jokes about getting your cardio in while shimmying into new jeans in the fitting room. True story.
You mull over and over your own little mental scrapbook of moments. Mainly moments of full-on humiliation. Like the guy who texted his wife about how huge you were as he sat next to you on the airplane, breathing on you, taking more than his share of the armrest.
Or the time you fell through the rickety wooden chair at a family wedding, the noise of the splintering wood reverberating loudly across the marble hall as all eyes turned to the fat girl sprawled and red faced on the floor.
You recall breaking your foot in 10th grade and allowing it to be the excuse that ends you tenure as a high school athlete–the only thing keeping the beast in check.
You live with the constant and soul-crushing disappointment you feel in not having the typical adolescent experience, in not giving your parents the experience of raising a typical adolescent. No prom, no breaking of curfew, no steady stream of boyfriends nervously ringing your doorbell.
You can never fix that, can never go back. You can never give that back to them. Or yourself.
You worry that disappointment will extend to your future. You may never walk down the aisle with your dad. Never give your parents grandkids. Never get to raise your own typical adolescents.
When you’re fat you feel all this, you live all this, day in and day out.
And you become numb. You float along, achingly, miserably content in your non-existent existence. Comfortable.
But nothing changes if you’re comfortable…
Being fat is alot of things. But mostly, it’s easy in the worst possible way. Easy to continue on the same extra-wide path you’ve cleared for yourself. Easy to lie still, unmoving, afraid to breathe, think, or speak lest you stir up the pain.
Though, while life may be a lot of things, for a fat person, it’s never truly easy. Not in the ways you want.
Because change happens in that uncomfortable space. Your life is waiting in that uncomfortable space.