Today for the first time in years, I cried about being fat. I know the body & fat positive gatekeepers are somewhere punching the air and writing my dismissal papers. However, being transparent about my mental and physical wellness is what I do here even when it’s an unflattering moment in time.
Shall we?
I went into my office to sit down to do some work, and everything was going great…until I heard a bang…and I was halfway on the floor. My chair had broken. I had this chair for 3 years, bought it when I was probably at my largest and at the time I don’t think I checked for a weight capacity.
I’m not sure why I cried. It certainly was not the first chair I had broken in my life [white cookout chairs have RIP’d underneath these thighs a few times]. But there was just something in this moment that really hit me hard. Perhaps it is knowing how hard I’ve worked to get my weight down just to be eligible for proper medical care. Or that despite how hard I’ve worked my body often works against me. It could even be that despite people not knowing my journey or my circumstances; there will be those who swear it’s my fault and I should try harder.
Whatever it was, I cried. Hard. Quietly. Shamefully.
My husband of course came to the rescue like he always does. He rubbed my head, wiped my tears, whipped out his phone and ordered me a brand new chair. He didn’t say a word about my tears or try to diminish what I was feeling. I don’t know that he even understood fully why I was crying. In the moment I didn’t think it very important to tell him. I just wanted to work through my feelings and move past it.
And that’s what I did.
I prayed hard, poured out my feelings and moved on. The reality is I’m 400+ lbs. I am bound to break something simply because the society I live in is not designed for bodies like mine. That is just a cold hard fact of being fat. I live my life knowing that I may go into a doctor’s office or airport and there may not be a seat to accommodate my width or weight. I may have to go out of my way to visit a medical specialist because the imaging equipment is not designed to sustain my weight. Clothes may be of limited option in the store depending on how fat I am at the time. And the list goes on and on and on.
If you’re fat, then you know this to be true.
The larger the fat body you reside in, the less accessible life can sometimes feel. And if you feel that way, it’s ok. You’re entitled to feel your low moments; they are going to happen. We can love ourselves at any size and still acknowledge that living life in a fat body in this society is incredibly hard. However, we don’t have to live in that one low moment forever.
A moment is just a moment and it does not have to define how you feel overall or how you live.
So this blog post is for the fat girl who cried yesterday, or today or who will cry tomorrow because she had a moment where being fat made her feel that way. You are seen, you are loved and you are heard.
Until next time,
AP Young Blog 
Oh my God I’ve been there. My most recent was my 4 year old grandson jumped in back of me in my office chair (he thought it was funny). I slipped to the floor and could not get up. I have bad knees and had a broken arm at the time. I scooted around for over an hour trying to find a way to get off the floor. Finally I told him to bring me my phone and I had to call 911. I was so embarrassed, I was wearing my pajamas and had peed on myself. The paramedics were very understanding but I was an emotional mess. They rolled a sheet under me and pulled me up enough to sit on a chair. I’ve broken chairs, fell down stairs, tripped, couldn’t get off of sofas or chairs without assistance, struggled to get out of the bathtub (no more baths, strictly shower chair showers now), ohhh, the list goes on. I feel ya, Sis. Working with my insurance to get a motorized recliner. I keep telling myself the ‘Fat Girl Blues’ will get better but it’s a journey. Here’s a great listen-to while we’re in the process. God Bless You. https://youtu.be/NR8igSehRzI
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