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Heartbreak

February 20, 2013

Trigger warning: Brief, general mention of eating disorder.

I want to talk about a topic that’s slightly Valentine’s-themed: heartbreak and being fat. I’ve had my heartbroken a few times, even completely destroyed, and it’s never easy and there are always tears involved. But heartbreak, when you’re fat, is a whole other world. And when you’re fat, the dating scene in general is a universe removed.

You’re a member of a group that most of society hates and deems unattractive, undatable and/or unfuckable. I’ve been reading Fat Sex by Rebecca Jane Weinstein and it’s amazing how many stories there are of fat women having sex with men who didn’t want to be seen in public with them. It’s shark-infested waters out there ladies and gents. So if dating is so difficult, what must break-up be like?

I don’t know about anyone else, but for me, especially before finding Fat Acceptance, heartbreak went straight to my hips — and I don’t mean the chocolates one eats to sooth oneself. For me, I go straight to thinking about my fat and every stereotype associated with it: ugly, disgusting, repulsive, lazy, stupid, gluttonous girl!

Having a history with an eating disorder or disordered eating behaviors, as some fat people do, doesn’t help matters either. It’s easy to blame your body when someone rejects you. It means you don’t have to blame anything else. Blaming your fat means you don’t have to blame your personality, your differences, or even the other person. It doesn’t exactly help you grow as a person to blame it on your looks instead of your temper, for example.

More so, it’s a cycle of self abuse. We’ve got to stop blaming our bodies for everything. It’s not our body’s fault it exists and it’s certainly not its fault for everything in the world that you decide to heap on it. It’s not fair to blame your body and hurt it and hate it.

Some of you may have yourselves alone this past Valentine’s Day. Many of you may blame your body for the fact that you don’t have anyone, but is that really fair? Look around you: fat people, conventionally unattractive people, people with a plethora of types of disabilities, people with acne, balding people… all of those types of people have lovers, spouses, girlfriends or boyfriends, and families.

It’s not you. It’s not your body. It’s just not your time right now.

I’ve had some hellish Valentine’s Days, but not only is there someone out there for everyone, there’s lots of people out there for everyone. All you have to do is open yourself up to the possibilities and keep trying. And when you think abut blaming it on your body, stop, and rethink the situation. For that matter, your self-worth isn’t determined by who deems you fuckable or datable or even marryable. Your self-worth is determined by you, and no one else. You’re not obligated to be anything for this world. All you have to be is you.

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5 Comments leave one →
  1. LittleBigGirl permalink
    February 20, 2013 1:02 pm

    There may be lots of people “out there for me,” but I’ve learned that whether they come or go, I need to be here for myself. :-)

  2. vesta44 permalink
    February 20, 2013 2:59 pm

    I waited 40 years to find the right man (I was engaged twice before and both times, the men broke it off). I’ve been DEATHFATZ for the last 37 years of my life and disabled for the last 15 years. Almost 7 years ago, after having decided I was going to be single for the rest of my life (I was 52 years old), a man answered my personal ad on Yahoo (the one I had forgotten I had). I debated for a couple of weeks if I was going to call him or not (he had sent me his phone number in one of his emails to me). I finally got up the nerve to call him, and we ended up talking for a couple of hours. We talked late at night on the weekends when he was off work, and after three months of that, we decided to meet in person. We met at a casino (lots of people around, very public place so either of us could run if the other turned out to be an axe murderer). We ended up spending the weekend together and that’s where he proposed to me (even though he knew I was fat and would always be fat, and he knew I was disabled – he got plenty of examples of how I couldn’t walk very far without having to sit down until my back quit hurting). I knew he was the right one when he knew what I was thinking and could finish thoughts for me exactly the way I would have said it (I keep telling him to get out of my head, it’s uncanny how much alike we think).
    So yes indeed, there is someone for everyone, even though it may take you years to find him/her. And it won’t matter what you look like, what your abilities are, or anything else you think might be a flaw – that person who is right for you will love you in spite of your “flaws” and maybe, because of them.

  3. February 20, 2013 4:55 pm

    Sometimes I’m lonely. But at the same time, I just can’t bring myself to compromise. I refuse to buy into the bullshit white lies. I refuse to be anything less than honest – though I do know the meaning of tact. I refuse to get bogged down in labels. I’m so tired of society’s bullshit, honestly, that if I find anyone, it’ll have to hit me over the head. I’ve been hurt so many times and been lied to so many times.

    Maybe I’m just being misanthropic, but I prefer to try and think of it as being independent. I have friends. I don’t need a man, who’ll likely lie to me and cheat on me. If someone appears that values truth as much as I do, then maybe we’ll talk, but I’m not holding my breath.

  4. February 21, 2013 7:01 am

    I’ve been heartbroken by people I chose to date because of my appearance in both ways- one ex insisted I was too ugly and fat to take out with him in social situations, unless he spent an average family’s monthly income on my appearance, transforming me into a plastic doll version of myself. I was also strongly reminded to stop snarking at people who took a week or so to realize I was snarking at them.

    Another told me he couldn’t bear to see that my public persona was so put-together when I always walk around in sweatpants and giant sweaters at home- he couldn’t take me out fresh from work (where almost everything is determined by the image I present to my clients), since his “tech friends” would rag on him for choosing an East Coast yuppie as a girlfriend. Never mind that I could follow their conversation, tech-talk along with them and shared a lot of hobbies with him, I didn’t fit in appearance-wise, so I was to change or be gone.

    I’m with CC, now- I can’t be something I’m not, not anymore. I’ll bow down to societal pressure just as far as needed in my job (which I love, despite and because of everything), but if I’m at home, out will come the schlubby sweatpants and off goes the mascara. Anybody who wants arm candy without an opinion of its own, or wants me to transform into that, is SOL.

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