Free use image by Artjane on Pixabay
Different is not good they say
And they showed me in so many ways
How wrong it is to be like me
A thing nobody wants to see
"You act so weird," the others always said
Why can't you just be normal instead
Be the same as everybody else
Instead of being your abnormal self
Everybody saw me as the other
Parents, schoolmates, and my brother
Said be like other girls, pretty and sweet
From life I started to retreat
Never have I belonged anyplace
With my odd personality and ugly face
With a physique that is much reviled
I retreated and I rarely smiled
I see now that others are unkind
Mean of spirit and small of mind
Although I am strange and ugly too
I deserve the same respect that pretty people do
The way one treats folks commonplace
The fat, the awkward, those not fair of face
No matter how attractive they are without
Their inner ugliness always comes out
Bullying and ridicule
Makes pretty people ugly fools
~cie~
the numerous not so nice notes
Inspired by an unpleasant exchange with a twit on Twitter lamenting that some large folks don't do their due diligence of hiding and hating themselves and dare to call out the appalling treatment they experience simply for being big, including commonplace psychological abuse by medical "professionals."
Said twit used phrases such as "celebrating obesity" and made a crack about "if these women even make it to forty."
Well, this 55-year-old fat broad had something to say about that bullshit.
I am a big person. I have an extremely dysfunctional endocrine system. I generally refer to it as a trash fire. My thyroid gland was the first to go kerflooey, committing suicide when I was in my early teens. I had PCOS, and, given the state of the rest of my endocrine system, I was unsurprised when diabetes came knocking when I was forty-nine. If you think I want to hear about any cures for diabetes, save us both some precious time and spare me. Type 2 diabetes sometimes (rarely) goes into remission, like cancer. I'd like that, but I certainly don't expect it.
I once had a person tell me that if I took cinnamon, I could stop taking insulin. I cautioned them against giving such wildly dangerous advice. If I stopped using insulin, I'd likely be dead within the space of a month. All cinnamon will do for me is give me pleasant-tasting burps.
In any case, regardless of the fact that I have an "excuse" for my size, no-one should have to apologize or explain their physique to anybody. And if you want to crow about "health," spare me. At least be honest about it. It's never about "health."
The fact that I'm surprised when I'm treated respectfully and not abused by people in the medical profession is NOT a good thing.
When I'm treated respectfully, I'm inspired to do the things I can to take care of my weird body, regardless of its size. I don't mentally abuse myself and tell myself that I only deserve to be treated well if I'm thin. I check my blood glucose faithfully and inject insulin accordingly. I eat relatively balanced meals and don't restrict food or binge. I am inspired to exercise as much as I can. I wish I could get an upright walker, which would help me take longer walks and would be more comfortable and supportive than a regular walker, but these devices are around $700 and that is out of my price range.
Wouldn't it be nice to live in a world where assistive devices weren't treated as a luxury item?
Anyway...
If you think you are "helping" larger people by shaming them "for their health,"
1) It doesn't work like that. If shame worked, there would be no alcoholics or drug addicts, no smokers, and no fat people. No-one would be depressed or anxious. Everyone would be working the "perfect" job, have the perfect marriage with the perfect 2.5 kids, and no-one would be gay. Shame does not work, and a person's body type is more complex than the grossly oversimplified "calories in, calories out" model that is drilled into everyone's head implies.
2) Fuck you.
Read again what I said about respectful treatment.
When I'm treated respectfully by people in the medical profession, I take better care of myself. I don't lose weight, and with my endocrine problems, I'm unlikely to lose weight unless I become terminally ill. Weight loss isn't the measure of health (or worth) that people have been indoctrinated to believe it is in any case.
When I am treated like shit for my size, I tend to starve myself. I berate myself, calling myself awful names. I think that I don't deserve to be happy or even to live.
The words we say to others have an incredible impact.
I remember when I saw the "Let There Be Rock" documentary when I was sixteen. When Angus Young (who is way on the opposite end of the size spectrum from Yours Truly) was asked what he thought of each of the other members of his band, his answers were appropriate. When asked what he thought of himself, his reply was "he's that ugly little man."
I was struck by his response and the matter-of-fact way in which he said it. Even at that age, I realized that other people's cruel words had made him believe this lie about himself. Regardless of his accomplishments, he saw himself as "that ugly little man." I thought this was an incredibly sad revelation.
Angus Young isn't conventionally attractive. He's smaller than the average man. But just because he doesn't have leading man looks doesn't mean there's anything wrong with his appearance. He seems like a decent guy. I'd kind of like to slap the living crap out of the people who filled his mind with the idea that he's ugly.
In any case, if one doesn't find him appealing, they're not being forced to go on a date with him.
A hot steaming cup of STFU is a drink that those who think they know best about what other people should be doing or how they should look would be advised to take a good long swig of.
Don't be a goddamn dick. Nobody owes it to you to be what you deem attractive. If you don't like what you see, look somewhere else. You have no idea what anyone else is going through, and your crap opinions and advice are likely to do more harm than good.
Fat, ornery, and done with everyone's shyyyyyt.
(Free use image by Open Clipart Vectors on Pixabay)
Want more fat, angry poetry? Grab a heapin' helpin'!
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