I’m glad this is Life in 10 Minutes. I could write a goddamn book that goes on forever and says nothing if I had/stole more than 10 Minutes.
I saw a post from a crunchy, spiritually progressive, new-agey online journal on Facebook today: Open Letter to the Fat Girl I Saw at Hot Yoga. As a “Fat Girl,” myself, I clicked. I am not in a yoga class, but I AM in a fitness class. I AM the fattest girl in there, that’s sure. But I’m also the youngest, and mostly strongest (see how I defend myself immediately? because I’m the fattest.). Anyway, this is to say I have some experience in an organized environment focused on improving my body’s ability and willingness to walk through this world.
Do you know what the intro to the article was on FB? SURPISINGLY Beautiful: [INSERT FAT GIRL ARTICLE HERE] (capitalization and italics added by me. for emphasis, motherfuckers.)
What the ever-living fuck? Seriously? “SURPRISINGLY?” I read the article, I read another article about fat girls in yoga classes. Nicely put, authentically shared personal essays by fellow fat girls, at home in the bodies they have. I appreciate that the crunchy, new-ager yoga wenches thought we fatties were worthy of online presence. But I actually felt tears start when I read “Surprisingly.” I don’t know why that was so hurtful, why it pissed me off so much. Maybe I expected more, thought that if someone went to the trouble of posting the point of view, of vulnerability, they’d be fucking conscious enough to know that beauty and fat CAN coexist, that they do.
Next time, skinny bitches (and dudes, too, maybe), when you feel moved to post an article about the fat people, just leave the intro at Beautiful. Trust me. The fat people know exactly what you mean (“surprisingly” is implied).
I'm just a lady who spends way too much time in my head and online. Not nearly enough time folding clothes or achieving things. I do read all kinds of things and drink all kinds of coffee.