The Biggest Problem

The biggest problem with being fat isn’t that I hate the way I look, it’s that everyone else does. My body is treated like public property by complete strangers, who make nasty comments or shout in the street. Society sees me as a “before” photograph, and adverts try to appeal to me by highlighting what parts of my body are problems that they can help me hide. It never occurs to anyone that I’m perfectly content with my appearance.

The biggest problem with being fat isn’t that I’m unhealthy, it’s that no one believes I’m not. I can say that I eat well and exercise, and they will either smile in that knowing way or bluntly call me a liar. People hide their thinly veiled disgust behind claims of concern, and even medical professionals will not take me seriously. My BiPolar Disorder went untreated for years because a doctor thought it would stop if I lost weight.

The biggest problem with being fat isn’t that I worry about it, it’s that everyone around me seems obsessed. When I say that my biggest insecurity about the way I look is that I’m short, their suppressed urge to point out that I jiggle when I walk looks almost painful. I am treated like I’m somehow unaware of my body, like they’re telling me some dreadful secret when they point out that I’m overweight. I live here. Trust me, I know.

The biggest problem with being fat isn’t that it affects my personality, it’s that I am seen as a walking stereotype. People act like being fat is the whole sum of me as a person, and it isn’t. I am not stupid, I am fat. I am not lazy, I am fat. I am not a slob, I am fat. These things are not synonymous, and it’s high time society stopped acting like being fat is worse than being cruel or rude or shallow, because it really isn’t.

The biggest problem with being fat isn’t that I’m fat. The biggest problem is everyone else.