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I was too big for my boyfriend.
Literally. He was very lean and I was.. well… fat.
If I laid on him I was crushing him, sitting on his lap hurt him.
He said he’d like me the same, thin or fat, but I knew that was a lie.
His type is delicate, sharp features and long, slender limbs. Not me, a blobby mess.
He was the best man I ever met. Ridiculously kind and caring, but he wasn’t physically attracted to me.
The worst men I’ve met like my fat, they sexualize it, objectify me, hurt me and use me.
When I heard the sentiment that men wanted to fuck fat women and marry thin ones, I didn’t believe it. What a terrible thing to say! So misogynistic and degrading, there can’t be truth to that!
But now…. I know the pain of the women that told me that. My pillowy body makes me fuckable, my thin body makes me lovable.
When I’m big my breasts are targets, when I’m small the attention is on my eyes, lips, smile, laugh.
It’s not easy to convince myself that I don’t need love, or kindness from strangers. It’s not as simple as looking in the mirror and saying “this doesn’t matter! The inside matters!”.
I’m not dumb, I know why people treat me the way they do. I know that the world is kindest when I am smallest.