Fat-calling

I've had a few instances of what I call "fat-calling" in the past couple weeks. Fat-calling is like cat-calling only instead of being degraded for your mere hotness, you're being degraded because of being fat (and, presumably, ugly). Fat-calling always seems to be cyclical in my life. I can go for quite awhile without hearing so much as a peep and then all of a sudden the fat-calls pour in.

The last one, the most notable of them all, was last week as I was leaving work. I was dragging myself down the sidewalk in uncomfortable shoes, in uncomfortable clothes, after a very long day of sitting in front of a computer screen. I remember my back and hips feeling achy from sitting for so long. I remember thinking I was going to throw away my tired, scuffed up, too-stretched-out shoes when I got home (and I did). I remember thinking I hated what I was wearing, that I was going to put my ugly top in the Goodwill box when I got home (and I did). I was feeling ultra pissy because I couldn't believe I spent $60 on jeans that looked great in the mirror when I put them on at 7am but then stretched like bubble gum throughout the day, ending up looking like a baggy, shapeless, fucked up mess on my legs by 5pm.

And then, I spotted them: two guys in their mid-twenties standing on a balcony overlooking the street, where a minor car accident had just happened. They were watching the accident, I guessed, but I had a feeling they were going to fat-call when I walked by on the street below them.

(whisper whisper) (snickering)
Guy 1: Hey, gorgeous!
Guy 2: Owwww!
(more snickering) (sound of high five)

I chose not to say anything in return because that's technically the best defense in these situations. I've learned that if you say something back, it better be a bullseye or else you face even worse, more vicious fat-calling. Expect excessive snickering and high-fiving if you choose only to flip off, because they know they got to you. I guess that's the point of fat-calling... to get to you.

I got in my car afterwards and was stewing about it on the drive home. All of a sudden, I picture myself on the sidewalk again... "Hey, gorgeous!" I turn around and with a crazy, cartoonish happy look on my face I say, with a crazy, cartoonish and quite loud Elle Woods affect: "Oh my god, I think you're super cute too! I love the 50 extra pounds around your middle, sir, but most of all I love your friend's limp-dick ponytail! Have a nice night, byeeeeee!"

Only, I'd actually said (semi-yelled) this aloud in my car, with the moon roof open, at a stop light with many other cars and bicyclists and pedestrians too, while I was having my revenge ideation. Phew, embarrassing. And yes, I had totally profiled those dudes standing on the balcony as I was approaching them, having the gut feeling they would say something to me. I saw paunchy, stout Guy 1 standing there with a baseball cap backwards on his head (there is no surer sign of a fat-caller than the backwards baseball cap, trust me) and I saw tall Guy 2 with a long, scraggly ponytail next to him. They were no prizes themselves. They were also, I will admit, men of color.

I've been thinking over the past couple days about my potential bullseye response. Would I have been "brave" enough to actually deliver that retort with the volume and attitude required? In the vein of Two Wrongs Don't Make a Right, is it wrong to make fun of a fat-caller's fat when that's the very crime he has perpetrated on you?

I've also been thinking about how it felt to be fat-called in that particular situation. As opposed to the other calling I've gotten recently which have been variations on a theme (such as the "Oww!!" yelled from a moving car as I stand waiting on the edge of the crosswalk), this one rocked my world. It's the first time I've ever thought to myself afterwards, "Oh my god, I'm ugly." I actually think that's the normal, generalized feeling I always have after being fat-called, but I've never articulated it further and stayed with it. Naturally, I've always tried to push that thought away because it's so uncomfortable, so punishing.

I actually think in some ways that it was a good thought to stay with and feel. If you're always pushing away the uncomfortable feelings without further articulating why they are a problem for you, then it's an unresolved cycle. I'd honestly never thought through what it might mean to me to be "ugly". Fat is something I can live because I've more or less come to peace with it. Ugly is somehow far more damning than fat. Ugly is something you were born into, something you probably can't change much, and something that belies what's on the inside of you, what's in your soul.

And what a load of bullshit that is, huh? I needed to challenge my bias around "ugly" to realize how loaded that word, that notion, is. It's like what my old friend Teresa used to say about the word "weird":

Don't just call something "weird", because "weird" doesn't mean anything. "Weird" means a million things at once and yet nothing at all. Worse, "weird" is a derisive term people use to describe things they don't understand or relate to. It's the laziest word you could ever choose to use.

"Ugly" (and it's opposite, "pretty") is subjective. It's also something that gets thrown around a lot where fat people are concerned, which is a problem for me. Whether I'm ugly or not, especially to two random strangers, is here nor there in the grand scheme of things. I'm not ugly on the inside which is the most important thing of all. Those two young men saying that I'm ugly... that's pretty darn ugly, if you ask me. It's really fucked up to consciously set out to make someone feel as low as I felt in that moment and in its ensuing wake. That has always weighed heavily on my mind, having been bullied to the point of severe depression as a young person, and weighs all the more heavy on my mind now that I'm raising a child.

Outspoken and radical

Six months ago I joined a Health At Every Size (HAES) group on Facebook, and just now left it. I decided I can no longer stand the way the moderator or group members jump down the throats of any members that post "diet-y" stuff, or stuff that could be considered a "trigger". Really, I felt like, as a member, I needed to exist quietly in a nice, neat box labeled "fat is right, never question it".

To me, fat can be right but it's not always right and it's not always wrong, either. There exist many shades of grey where fat is concerned. Those with a BMI over 30 are considered obese, regardless of current state of health or family histories. I believe those things should help guide our decision making when we're fat because not everyone who is considered fat, overweight and/or obese is "unhealthy", and not everyone who has a BMI under 30 is "healthy". Sometimes thin people think they are fat. Sometimes fat people think they're fatter than they really are. Sometimes fat people genuinely like the way they look. Sometimes they decide that, after looking at factual evidence AND/OR guided by intuition, their risk for disease is too high and they want to exercise or lose weight to help mitigate the risk. Sometimes thin people do this too.

The point is that everyone gets to decide for themselves in a culture where "deciding for yourself" isn't tolerated if your outsides are perceived as fat. I thought the point of anti-bias work and HAES was to challenge and confront bias that exists on a larger scale, not to berate individuals who actually self-identify as anti-bias supporters. The latter, to me, represents the worst of "group": a membership that makes outspoken and radical response the norm without an ounce of restraint or reflection, without any wiggle room for being challenged.

And, yes, as usual I'm being hyperbolic but you see... "group" is a trigger for me.

I left the group with a Wall post saying that the moderator might consider a more neutral approach than threatening expulsion in response to a member's "too diet-y" or "trigger inducing" posts, and also might consider listing posting guidelines and group norms in the "About Us" section. I also said that I chose to leave voluntarily because the group is more outspoken and radical about issues of fat than I'm personally comfortable with, and that I wished everyone the best. The moderator responded almost immediately with, "Oh really?"

And that is that. I'm glad to have moved on.

On the precipice

Last weekend I had an epiphany about how fat can be treated in our culture. Granted, this is largely biased by my own experiences and propelled by my own fears.

It's like you're standing on the precipice, and with each bite of (bad) food you're inching closer... and closer... and closer to falling off the edge into death's waiting arms.

I was reflecting on some recent conversations I've had with my friend S about being fat (we both are), and remembering an unpleasant moment I had with my mother in law in regards to green coffee extract ("I'd like to buy some for you! I saw it on Dr. Oz! It's supposed to be a miracle!"), and also thinking about my sister who died almost 10 years ago due to fat-related health issues (go ahead and call it "obesity" if you must, now that it's an official diagnosis). I wondered in my head: What, truly, is the fuss over fat people?

No doubt I've posted about this before (and am too lazy to find when I did in order to link back to it!) so I won't go on and on about it again. In a nutshell, I think that fat represents something that people don't like to look at because it reminds them of what they could be or what they have been, or it reminds them of a loved one who is fat and struggling and they wish they could save the person (but they can't). It's a little bit like the concepts of cognitive dissonance and subtle contempt that are part of anti-racism theory.

In my life I've had a lot of exposure to people who are on drugs, and to clarify I'm speaking of drugs that are considered "heavier" than alcohol and marijuana. In instances where the person on drugs was a close friend, I would feel sickened by seeing my friend high and I would almost always remove myself from watching him or her use because that was even worse. Those were times when I would sadly think, "this person is on the precipice."

I have a hard time seeing others apply that to a fat person they don't know and his/her perceived eating or health choices. A few months ago I eavesdropped on a conversation between a not-fat couple who we were seated next to in a restaurant, in which they were looking at a very fat man across the restaurant eat his burger dinner. "That is so sad. He obviously needs help," said Person A. Person B replied, "Totally. He should have ordered a salad instead of that burger. He's a heart attack waiting to happen." That's about the time I asked Honey Bunny if we could please re-seat ourselves elsewhere.

The existence of Overeaters Anonymous is also a hard one for me. On one hand, I don't understand how food can be considered an addiction when, unlike alcohol, drugs, sex, gambling and shopping, it's necessary to eat on a daily basis for survival. On the other hand, whether or not a person is considered an "addict" can sometimes be very subjective although thankfully there are documented objective characteristics of addiction, care of the American Psychological Association. There are many shades to an addiction and what constitutes an addict vs. addictive behaviors, in my opinion.

ALL of this has been rolling around in my brain lately because, unfortunately, I feel like I'm on the precipice. I'm not the type of person who openly flirts with death so I consider this more of a warning precipice. Just today I entertained the notion of going to an OA meeting, which, given what I said above about that group, should give you an indication of where my head is at. It's a good thing this article landed in my lap courtesy of a Facebook friend, for a little perspective.

I hesitate to say that what I'm going through is a "problem" because I don't want to provide more fodder for our biased culture. So instead I'll say that I'm finding my behaviors of late - eating things that do not nourish me, eating too much, not making physical activity a priority - a problem for me. For the past couple months I've been chasing a ghost of my past: the physical activity gain and my weight loss successes from before I got pregnant (much documented on this blog in latter 2010 and early 2011). As none of the strategies that worked at that time are working currently, it's time to give up the chase and find something new, to find something that will work for me now. I'm not okay with being on the precipice but I'm also not okay with, as the saying goes, trading seats on the Titanic. I don't want to become consumed with trying to lose weight in the same way that I'm currently consumed by my desire for copious amounts of food and sugar. I don't want to feel like I can never relax or have time off from being physically active in the same way that I'm currently adverse to engaging in anything active. I want to remember that food is not the enemy and that being physical enlivens me, and not feel like I have to change just because I'm standing on a precipice. But, getting there... I'll probably have to walk through all of it, bad and good, thick and thin, before any sort of balance is attained. That's just me.

And my last parting shots are thus:
I refuse to hate myself for awakening to find myself on the precipice.
I refuse to hate myself because I love food.
I refuse to hate myself for my clothes fitting tight.
And I especially refuse to hate myself because other people, whether well-meaning or full of judgement, think that I should just because I'm fat.

Zaftig Chick's Guide to Child

Yesterday I talked with some coworkers about the fat part of my life. Other than the profanity peppered language and end of the day blogging I try to keep things somewhat professional and private at work, so after many years I finally came out of the fat "activism" closet. I explained the concept of Healthy At Every Size (HAES), that about 10 years ago I started subscribing to the notion that a fat you might be able to do pretty much anything any-skinny-one else can do. You know, things like snowboarding, or wearing nice clothes, or falling in love, or even having a baby.

I did, in fact, have a baby... a lovely one! He's 10 months old now, super cute and sometimes super devilish, too. We're over the fat hump for the foreseeable future (I think?) but there were some dicey moments where fat did play a part in something I wanted to do but wasn't able or as able to do. Based solely on my own experience, here are some things to keep in mind if you're fat and wanting to have a kid.

Firstly, if you're fat and want to have a baby, unless there is actual, medical, factual data stating that having a baby would put you and/or the baby at risk: go for it. You should have that experience in life if you want it and your body is up for it. There might be days when naysayers lurk around every corner, whether it be a well-meaning friend or a snarky relative with the letters "MD" behind his name (who doesn't know your personal medical history)(ahem!).

On a related note, be prepared to deal with the reply of "...really?" and it's accompanying befuddled facial expression when someone asks if you have gestational diabetes and you answer, "no." There is no link between being fat and having gestational diabetes. It affects women across the board and has to do with the way the placenta and hormones develop. If you are one of the ladies who ends up developing gestational diabetes, it probably sucks big time to curtail your cravings but pregnancy is (thankfully) a temporary condition and (really, thankfully) generally GD is as well.

Here is some good news! Motherhood Maternity has super cute plus size clothes and they don't break the bank. Sure, they're cheaply made but worry not... by the time you wear 'em out, you don't need them anymore. This was news to me but you do continue to wear maternity clothing for a good several months after the baby is born. Bonus points goes to MM because of their gigantic neckholes; if you choose to breastfeed, you can whip your shirt down to expose just one teet rather than pulling the shirt up to expose your entire midsection. (In the meantime, invest in some Fashion Tape.)

Here's more good news: generally us zaftig ladies gain less weight during pregnancy than our thinner counterparts. Personally I only gained 25 lbs which was almost exactly what I had lost leading up to my pregnancy. I didn't have to even wear maternity clothing until I was almost seven months along. Most people didn't even know I was pregnant. Judging by the shocked and extremely confused expression on the face of Jadice, the tiny Vietnamese woman who does my mani-pedis, when I told her I was just two months away from having a baby I wondered if she thought my baby was being born via surrogate and I was just getting fatter.

And one last piece of good news... losing the baby weight is, again, generally, easier for us plus sized gals than it is for others. That's anecdotal evidence from myself and just a couple other ample moms I've met. In fact, my situation may have been extreme for a variety of circumstances but I lost 25+ lbs within three weeks of giving birth. If you choose to breastfeed, the amount of calories you need to eat on a daily basis to sustain it is mind-boggling. I actually referred to eating that much as a "burden" in those first few weeks after the baby was born. (Eating IS a burden if you have to choose between it and sleep. Sleep wins when you have a newborn. Food is "whatever". Trust me on this one.)

Now for the not great news. I entered parenthood thinking I would be a co-sleeping, sling-wearing, breastfeeding fool of an Attachment Parent. Unfortunately, fat can (and did, in my case) interfere with all three of those things. It's not advised that you co-sleep in the same bed if you and/or your partner are considered overweight, and it's downright verboten if you and/or your partner are considered "obese". As I am the latter, co-sleeping didn't work for our family. We opted instead for a co-sleeper attachment to the bed... a little crib thing that fastens to the side of the bed so that you're sleeping separately but in close proximity. I did co-sleep with my baby for a few naps but it wasn't super restful since I was always paranoid that my fat was going to smother him or that I'd roll over onto him and kill him with my girth. Ugh.

Sling-wearing was an interesting one. Baby hated the sling (we tried three different brands/styles) so we opted for a carrier instead, the only one that has enough belt length for a fat person to actually wear it: the Beco Gemini. Attachment folks always advocate for the Ergo carrier, which is legitimately more snuggly looking but doesn't allow for baby to front-face (a necessity with our little critter), and maybe will fit size 16 hips on a good day. There is the option of a belt extender, "at least they offer that," I say as I roll my eyes. Now, the truth of the matter is that although my Beco allows me to suit up for carrying baby, it doesn't quite sit right on me. I have a thin mommy friend who wears hers and it looks... different. It's a better fit for both her and the baby, it looks more stable and more comfortable. And lastly, the Beco allows me to wear the baby on my back too which is great in theory and doesn't actually work in reality. Baby's legs have to be splayed so far apart to fit around my midsection that it looks like his hips are going to break. It works better on Honey Bunny because he's narrower and baby's legs can wrap slightly around. Ugh.

Breastfeeding, oh breastfeeding. I thought it would be easy and natural, as most women do. It was, in fact, kind of a nightmare. I'll spare the details but my enormous jugs were too big for the baby to fit his mouth around and so I struggled with fun things like "bad latch" and the ensuing "low milk supply". In the end we settled on doing something not many women are insane enough to keep up for eight months which is breastfeeding first (using a nipple shield since we could never establish a good latch) then supplementing with formula to make up the difference (since my supply never went up due to bad latch). It was important to me to breastfeed so I did what I could for as long as possible, but the whole thing was a trying ordeal... an ordeal that very few of my thinner friends endured. Ugh.

Sidenote: breastfeeding in public when you're fat is a completely bizarre experience. Most people can't help but glance at someone who is breastfeeding because it's not the most common thing to see in our culture, but I do think the ante is upped when you're fat and have big boobs. Some people can't help but stare. You pretty much have to adopt the I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude when you do it, or, like in my case, run to the car or even go home to breastfeed because it's just too, too much to expose yourself in that way.

I also want to say that the general experience of giving birth as a fat person in a medical setting was not the most comfortable thing in the world. I don't know anyone who is super great with having hands up the hoo-haw checking cervical thinness and openness, and how far the baby has dropped into your pelvis, and blah blah blah, but personally I couldn't help but think, "oh, here we go... another medical professional gets to see my body in all its glory!" Many folks, including my zaftig doula, told me that I'd be in so much pain/focus/elation/whatever that I wouldn't care, and maybe that's true of most people. But I did care. I cared most of all when the anesthesiologist in the operating room loudly declared he wasn't going to help move a numbed out pre-cesarean me from the gurney to the operating table because he didn't want to break his back. (Scott Disick isn't the only Douche Lord out there.) My beautiful boy was born within 20 minutes of that so, yes, elation took over and I moved on from feeling like a beached whale pretty quickly.

That's it for now! Hopefully I'll get to posting a tad more often now that I'm on the other side of pregnancy.

UGH!

Shit like this makes my blood boil, and it's not just because I'm almost nine months pregnant.

5 Bizarre Weight Loss Tricks That Work

As I stated in the comments section, this is a heap of crap touting disordered eating. I hate Shine in general but somehow this seems like a new (even more manipulative) low for them.