All About That Bass

Yeah, it's pretty clear, I ain't no size two
But I can shake it, shake it
Like I'm supposed to do
'Cause I got that boom boom that all the boys chase
And all the right junk in all the right places
I see the magazine workin' that Photoshop
We know that shit ain't real
C'mon now, make it stop
If you got beauty, beauty, just raise 'em up
'Cause every inch of you is perfect
From the bottom to the top

from All About That Bass

It's not a secret that I am a big person.  Bigger than big, actually.  I don't like being big but I dislike exercise more than I dislike being big.  I could give you excuses for why I'm big - medical problems, medications, genetics, environment, budget, depression - but I won't.  I know I am big. I know what I need to do to not be big.  I just struggle with exercise because I hate it.  I've tried all sorts of fun things to make it more appealing but I can't make myself do it.  Not alone or with a friend.  This blog is not about that, though.

This blog is about my disappointment in television shows about obese people.  Reality shows about what it's like to be an obese person.

A few years ago, there was a show called Ruby about this morbidly obese woman in Georgia trying to lose weight and cameras followed her around while she bitched and moaned for two seasons with people enabling her to be fat and whiny.  She had a roommate, lived off of disability because she said she had health issues that prevented her from working (yet they didn't prevent her from filming a tv show), and had a fabulous gay male friend and a chubby female friend to hang out with.  She also had a manipulative ex boyfriend who would show up every now and then to reinforce that big women can get laid by seemingly normal and even attractive men on occasion.  I liked the show initially because she seemed positive and upbeat and making strides to change public opinion of obese people.  Then, it just became a show about her whining and bitching about life, getting frustrated and it was the same old same old over and over.  I felt frustrated that they couldn't show what it's like for a person who has a job and doesn't have overly supportive and fabulous gay besties to help her stay fluffy and wonderful.  The show eventually got cancelled.

Now, there's a show called My Big Fat Fabulous Life based on this woman who is a dancer who put a video of herself dancing and TLC decided she would be interesting enough for an entire reality show.  I mean -- omg, a fat girl who can dance? What are the chances?

Well, of course, she lives in the South, too, lives with her parents, doesn't have a job and has, you guessed it, a fabulous gay male friend or two.  She even has a chubby female friend and a straight male friend who used to be a boyfriend.  It's Ruby 2.0.  Only - this show is different. It's different because this woman was once skinny.  She was an aspiring dancer.  Then, she was diagnosed with a disease that caused her gain a lot of weight in a short period of time.  She loves to point out that no matter what, she's going to be big and keep gaining weight, so any weight she loses is to either maintain her current weight or to make room for future gain.  She emphasizes that she can be fit and fat at the same time and that aside from her illness, she is no different than anyone else.  However, as the show has progressed, there hasn't really been much emphasis on that.  She eats mayonnaise and banana sandwiches for breakfast and complains when her doting dad makes her protein based meals.

As I'm watching her ask her mom to shave her legs for her because she's too big to do it and as she changes clothing in the middle of a public parking lot because her ass ripped a hole in her stretch pants, it occurred to me that as much as I like to clamor for fat acceptance in this world and for people to understand what it's like, as long as there are shows like this on, no one will ever really take being fat as something that they need to understand.  It's not a disability or handicap.  It's a life choice.

I want to see a show about real people trying to make their marks.. not people who live with their parents and whose sole claim to fame is the fact that they did a dance video.  She is trying to prove to everyone that she is still that thin person she once was and flip flops from wanting acceptance as a fat person to wanting to be a thin person. She cries one moment because people are mean and then flips her hair and becomes super sassy the next, as if it's no biggee. She doesn't seem authentic. The woman is a slob and sadly, like the previous show, just reinforces a common stereotype about obese people -- that we're lazy, dirty, sloppy and make bad food choices and deserve to be ridiculed because if we had more gumption and more motivation, then we'd just stop being obese. 

Another startling reality I had while watching the show is that I don't feel comfortable seeing other morbidly obese people.  I'm not talking about overweight or curvy people. I'm talking about those people who are hundreds of pounds overweight, like myself. In my head, I'm not obese.  In my dreams, I'm not obese. Most women look in a mirror and see a person who is bigger.  I look in the mirror and think that the mirror is lying and that I'm really smaller than what I'm seeing.  It's not until I see a photo or  video of myself that I realize it's "real".  It's not until I try on clothing that is the size of a small tent and realize it's real.  Other than the gym thing, I don't have any of the other traits.  I'm tidy. I'm organized. I don't chow down on junk food. I can shave my legs. I am not gross and I do not have a fabulous gay best friend.  Or an attractive brooding ex boyfriend. I am lazy in the sense that I don't like to go to the gym, and that I will choose a nap over going to the gym, but you won't find me lying on the sofa eating chips or complaining to my faboo gay bestie about my life. Unless I'm sick, I try to do something. Just not exercise.

I think that is why I have such a hard time with my self confidence and self esteem.  I represent something I find unattractive and unappealing. I don't want to believe it.  I want to be okay with it. I'm not.  I feel like I should apologize for being fat and for taking up space. Yet, I can't make myself change it.  Self sabotage, anyone?

This also makes me wonder why I want to see a show on fat acceptance with real fat people and not internet created sensations.  Is my own disgust based on the fact that I don't believe anyone else can find a fat person to be attractive and without the negative connotations that come with being fat?  Or, am I the voice of reason for people who are fooling themselves by believing that as long as they proclaim that they are okay with being fat and that their lives are fabulous then it shall be so?

A long time ago, I had a conversation with a therapist who suggested that I refuse to lose weight because as long as I'm fat, it's my protection, my barrier from the real world.  I can say men won't date me because I'm fat.  I can say I can't do something I don't want to do because I'm fat. I can say I don't have many friends because I'm fat.  I can let people laugh at me and mock me because I'm fat.  But, if I lose the weight and all of the things still exist, then what will I blame it on then?  

While I've been unemployed (and yes, I know that I left a cliffhanger at the end of the last blog, but I'm pretty sure you can figure out I didn't get the job), all I keep thinking about is how I need to make a change in my personal life. 

But, what if I make a change and nothing changes?  Will I be just like a cancelled reality show that missed the mark?  What if I'm just like everyone else?