A Big Fat Post about Mothers and Sizeism
I've been fat since I was a child. My mother was always stick-thin and popular with dark hair and bright blue eyes. I got my father's genes. I'm average height, I have green eyes like his mother, and I'm fat. Double chin, soft arms, and an expansive belly in front of me - I'm fat!
What's more? I like being fat. Granted, it took me a long time to get to this place. Years, in fact. It took a lot of unlearning negative thoughts about my body, a lot of sneering & obscenities in the direction of my television when diet commercials came on (instead of hanging my head in shame), and a lot of fat feminist theory articles and blog posts being made on a daily basis to get here. It took taking pictures and studying them and taking more in order to learn how my body actually looks, rather than what my brain was telling me how it looked.
But what will this mean when I become a mother?
Elizabeth, from the mommy blog "Spilt Milk," talks about this in her blog post titled "Parenting through Obesity Panic."
I love this part of her post because of how honest it is. I love the back-and-forth conversation taking place throughout. I especially appreciate this because of how often I've been faced with these conversations myself. I have two younger brothers and two nephews who I have taken a big part in helping to raise over the course of my life. I've had conversations with my oldest nephew (7 years old) about body size before because, when making a video game character, he wanted me to make my character "skinny like him." I went onto explain that I wanted my character to look like me, so that would mean that my character would also need to be fat like me. I told him that he is short, and I am tall, he is skinny, and I am fat, and that's great, because bodies aren't all supposed to look the same. We spent the rest of the day describing different body types in his favorite cartoons, or the books we were reading, or people we saw in public. He learned new descriptive words, I learned more about how he sees the world, and ultimately, we began a new part of our relationship: the part where we critically think about the ways people's bodies look and function and how that affects society's perception of them.
Elizabeth goes on...
The struggle to explain to children and teenagers (and even adults!) why the compulsive need to weigh ourselves, to explain the moral value lacking in a cupcake, and the unhealthy need to constantly want to take up less and less space is...hard. Especially because people have already been inundated with the idea that fat people are automatically unhealthy, slovenly, disgusting, ugly, and unlovable.
I've taught several body positivity classes at a girls' summer camp I've been working at the past two years. In these classes, I usually start off with a story that explains the relationship I have with my body, and I always, always make sure to use the word "fat." In my opinion, neutralizing the word is integral to neutralizing people's feelings around the word, and indeed, the body type. Our girls' ages range from 5-18 years old, which is a huge amount of ground to cover. The youngest girls don't generally care about their appearance, but when worrying about the way they look seems to really take root around age 9 and it only gets worse as they get older.
As a fat woman, it's important for me to fight for fat people's rights. I don't want or expect everyone to find fat people attractive. But I do want doctors to stop misdiagnosing us, I want the automatic contempt for us to dissipate, and I want to feel welcome in public spaces without negotiating that welcome. Which is why it's so important for me to talk to these campers - girls who I consider my daughters and my sisters - about why it's important that they learn to love their bodies now, not later. Because this is a life or death issue. The way we feel about our bodies directly relates to how we engage with the world.
The way this relates to our readings is through the Jane Smiley article "Can Mothers Think?" While fat activism is largely held in contempt by...pretty much everyone who isn't fat, I want to be clear in saying that it is a form of activism, it is sorely needed, and it is a form of literature. While I am not a mother, I have still played a direct role in teaching children about body acceptance and how it can make their future (and the futures of everyone else) a more inclusive one. These conversations, whether they happen in person or through blogs like this one, the Full Circles Foundation blog post, or my personal blog (not linked here), this is a cultivation of literature and a movement by fat women to make the world a better place. But more than that (and connected to that) it's a way to teach girls that they are worth more than their weight, and that their weight does not limit them. I think there is a need for women who are considered to be ugly to write about their experiences, especially because so many people believe it is a mother's job to make their daughters adhere to patriarchal notions of beauty.
The world may be an ugly place, but beauty comes in all shapes and sizes.















