But the reason I'm starting to open up a little is because of what happened over Thanksgiving break. I was down to two pairs of pants, if you could even classify them as pants. They both had holes and one's zipper stopped working entirely. So as soon as we got into Bellingham, my friend and I went on what was supposed to be a quick shopping trip to Freddy's. 45 minutes later, I had tried on almost 15 different pants, all of which didn't fit in some regard. Some fit perfectly, except the waist was too small. Others fit around my waist but were too long or too big everywhere else. Most times, I felt like I was wearing a tent.
It was humilating and very stressful. I just needed a pair of pants that didn't have holes in inconvenient places and the zippers worked, which should have taken a fraction of the time I spent that day. I know what styles I like but spent so much time trying pair after pair on. After awhile, I nearly started stress crying in the middle of the fitting room because there were no pants that fit me.
I know that I am fat and I know that I need to lose weight. But that statement doesn't make me less of a person. That statement shouldn't make me hate myself so much. That statement shouldn't mean that I don't deserve clothing or that I don't deserve to feel respected or safe.
And just because I'm fat doesn't mean I haven't experienced street harassment. My personal space has been invaded on several occasions while waiting for the bus, including several people touching my head to get my attention. "Fatty", "fat ass" and others has been yelled at me on several occasions. I've been followed for several blocks and onto buses on several occasions, all the while people trying to strike up a conversation with me. I have had it easy comparatively but at the same time, my story shouldn't be silenced because I'm fat.
I'm constantly aware of the way in which I carry myself. I'm constantly aware of the space I'm taking up and I always notice how people are hesitant to sit next to me on the bus. I get stressed out and really anxious about eating in public, so much so that often times, I don't eat in public spaces or with people around. Because of that, my eating habits are awful, with me using snacking on bad snacks and eating bigger meals when I can at home. I constantly have insecurities and anxieties and abuses going through my mind. This is something that I think about every single day of my life.
But despite all of that, I am still alive. And I struggle on a regular basis but I am still grateful for what I do have in my life. Because I have family that despite their flaws and well intended terrible remarks and actions, I know love me. And I have so much more in my life. Because while I struggle with my weight and insecurities, I am still trying every day to make the world at least a tiny bit better. And while I'm tired of the way in which my body is treated by others and tired of the way in which I'm silenced and made to feel like a loathsome and disgusting thing, I still get up every morning and go out into the world.
I am fat. I am here. I exist.
And there is nothing that can stop that.
