Monday, November 12, 2012

Who are you calling fatass?

Okay, I was called a fatass on the streetcar last week. I promptly filed that under "so important, I forgot about it for 5 days", but it is interesting for social commentary. My English professor, would die if she saw this, because it has a hell of a lot of repetition.

I am a fatass. I'm a size 14, I take up my fair share of space, especially when loaded with a wool winter coat (which is fabulous by the way, EVERYONE loves this coat) and a backpack...not so fabulous, but since Coach doesn't make a backpack to accommodate my schoolwork, I'm SOL. But that isn't what makes me a fatass. What makes me a fatass, is that I'm unapologetic about it.

People in today's society seem to treat plus sized people like we don't deserve space. That since we're fat, it's our own fault and therefore, it sucks to be us. So if we should happen to ask politely that you, yanno actually move out of your aisle seat, so I can vacate mine, without caving your head in from my backpack, basically, you get to call me a fatass under your breath for the inconvenience.

I am at the smaller end of the spectrum of fatasses, so I imagine that in a society where thinner is better, people who aren't, and who have the audacity to think that they are still deserving of respect, are treated pretty shabbily.

I may be a fatass, but I'm a fatass who works and loves hard. This fatass has a legion of awesome friends, all of whom would be willing to smack said woman on the streetcar if I asked. Not everyone has that, not nearly enough people. So essentially, I'm a fatass who is loved. I love people. I like to help people, my life has been spent in social services and being a fatass mother, who has some pretty freaking awesome boys for all my efforts. I'm a fatass who has gone through hell the past two years, and has come out the other side saying "Is that all you got?" As my peers get to know me at school, they are astounded by all I have gone through and still manage to walk on with a smile on my face. Fatass has a great family, the bills paid, food on the table, two awesome cats and amazing hair. I'm a pretty darn smart fatass, or at least my school seems to think so, I'm sitting around a 90% average, and that's after missing 3 weeks of school to take care of a very very sick mother and kids. Fatass also has a fantastic boyfriend, who by the way, loves her fat ass.

But you know what is best about this fatass? I'm a happy fatass. I don't need to call someone a derogatory name based on their body because of a nanosecond of having to move a bit. I don't feel the need to try and shame someone like that. I don't like going out and trying to hurt people and I can't imagine people who do, are very happy people. I'm confident. I'm proud of myself, I may have body image issues, but one thing that is not lacking in my body is strength because it keeps getting up after everyone smackdown. So I'm not going to be ashamed of it. I'm not going to apologize for taking up space, because I'm a good and deserving person, and if that offends you, or somehow threatens you and your very narrow view of body image, what is proper, what is correct for a plus sized woman, well, you know what you can kiss, and lucky for you, I have plenty of it!

3 comments:

Mrs. Hardaker said...

Go mama! I shake my fist and my fatass in solidarity with you!

Deborah Coombs said...

You have a lovely ass. And I certainly wouldn't classify you as fat. Some people need to get a grip.

Very well-said my dear!

Stacey said...

love the end of your post. go you!