Growing Up Fat:

Learning To Love Yourself Against All Odds

I will never be a Barbie doll. There are many reasons for this, not the least of which is that I have seen Ken naked, and I was not impressed.

But there is also the matter of genetics. The gene pool in which I float contains a substantial amount of fat. I don't complain about this, because genetics is an undisputed medical fact.

Unfortunately, we have deteriorated as a society to the point that being fat is considered a character issue, not a genetic one. In our society, fat people are seen as weak. Gluttons. Devoid of self-control.

In choosing to view fat people in this fashion, thousands, if not millions, have voluntarily given up the joy of seeing the beauty inherent in all people.

In the grip of fear, held tightly by the cold hand of their own lost self-esteem, they have abandoned the splendor of abundance, and replaced it with the bleakness of gaunt.

There is great pressure in American society to be thin. We are overwhelmed by the image of thinness repeatedly throughout the day. Television and print media assault us in a well-organized campaign to create a consciousness that Fat is Evil. It is to be cut, killed, blasted, busted, and burned. Fat is dangerous and frightening. There is no distinction made between dietary fat and the fat human being.

In the cultural subconscious, the distaste for dietary fat flows seamlessly to distaste for the fat individual. If dietary fat is abhorrent, so is the fat woman or the fat man. In the malleable mass which is public opinion, fat in all its forms is disgusting and the embodiment of weakness and failure. It is not OK to be fat, and if you are fat you have a serious character flaw.

Another reason I will never be thin is that I have too much passion. There are things I can't get enough of, things that I will not let filter past me without tasting the joy of them. There are things that I aspire to, dreams for tomorrow that keep me going. I have a deep love of, an unbridled passion for life. To deny this overarching passion is almost unthinkable. It spills over into every aspect of life.

Thinness is not worth the sacrifice. To be thin, I would have to deny my heart's desire, my ultimate goal in life: to be an utterly fabulous cook. I prepare food with sensual abandon. I invent and experiment, feed the family, assault the neighbors with aromas that bring them to my front door with some regularity.

The face of a loved one when they taste a particularly successful dish is, you should excuse the comparison, better than sex. I would never give up sex to be thin, why would I give up cooking? No...color me corpulent. I will stay as I am, and bring the fruits of my passion to those who matter in my life.

That I am able to stand tall and proud with these words, that I am convinced deep inside myself that this is truth for me, is nothing short of a miracle. But a miracle that came with a four decade pricetag.

For the first 40 years of my life, I was taught to be ashamed of my body. I heard it from all sides, learned to read the faces, anticipate the comments. Even at age 48, I still must endure strangers approaching me in grocery stores to discuss the contents of my basket. The difference now? I know I don't deserve to be treated that way, and I will not stand for it.

From the time I was a young child, I was criticized, judged, forced to diet, given amphetamines, told how much better my life would be and how much prettier I would be if only I were thinner. I bought those lies lock, stock and barrel. I got to the point that I was too ashamed of myself to go out in public. I judged myself ugly, not fit to be viewed by passers by. I wasn't good enough. Why? Because I was fat.. And because I was fat, I believed that I was a bad daughter, sister,mother, and friend. Because I was fat, I believed I was unlovable.

Because I was fat, I believed I had no right to live.

It is this combination of external pressures and internal dialogue which often leads fat people to deny who we are. To engage in self-loathing, or worse. Passing by a store window or seeing your image in a mirror can almost kill you if you don't like who you see.

This essay is the first of three which will follow my journey of awareness and growth from a "I'm-a-fat-and-ugly-churchmouse" to a "I'm-a-get-out-of-my-way-I-have-a-world-to-conquer" woman.

Stay tuned for part two. It'll be an exciting ride!

Kris Watson

Winner, Second Prize, Abby Writing Contest 2000

 

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