thatroxxiegirl:

Hi tumblr, I want you to meet me. I want to tell you why your fat acceptance movement is complete bs

See that photo on the left? I was 160kg. That’s 352.7lbs for my American lovers out there.

I did not know I was 160kg. I didn’t go near a scale. I had gorgeous blonde hair extensions and jeans with chains and a leather jacket. I thought I was heaps fly. I could not see the girl in that picture… until I was tagged in that picture on Facebook.

I cannot tell you how long I cried for. Hours? Yes. Days? Probably. Weeks? It’s likely.

I went to a doctor to see just how much I had been putting my body through. I was 21 at the time. He told me that he would be very surprised if I made it to 30, as my back and my organs were already struggling, coupled with the fact that I have some blood issues anyway… I was just putting a lot of stress on myself physically.

So I learned how to eat. I learned the value of protein, the implications of sugar and the fun of a cheat day. I started watching my portion sizes and keeping my water intake up. I went on short walks - nothing too strenuous. Really, I didn’t put a whole lot of effort in at all. But the weight started falling off.

I remember the day I sat down comfortably at the Imax theatre in Sydney. I wasn’t sitting right at the edge so I didn’t get stuck. I was completely in the seat and it was incredible.

I dropped 50kg in 6 months without even trying.

My weight has fluctuated randomly since then, and I haven’t quite hit my goal yet, but I have never gotten near 160kg again. I used to work out by putting the weight I had lost in a back pack, but eventually it got too much and I was really hurting myself. Do you even understand that? I couldn’t even carry my own weight once I didn’t have to.

I spend a lot of time preparing food and working out, because nothing terrifies me more than going back to that.

Tumblr, I’m going to tell you what 160kg was like.

Some mornings, I woke up and my back had seized - I couldn’t go to work because I couldn’t walk. If it wasn’t my back, it was the unbelievable chest pains. I had so much trouble finding clothing in a size 24. And I’m going to be honest - sex was REALLY difficult. I was engaged to a wonderful man at the time, and I didn’t have the confidence or ability to take charge in the way I wanted to and he wanted me to. Plus, not to be crude, but certain positions were completely out because my fat got in the way. It’s something I STILL get unbelievably self conscious about - even though my situation has changed dramatically.

Sometimes, if I sat on a chair, I was afraid it would break. I spent a lot of time absolutely constipated because of my poor diet, and the flight up to my unit was the hardest thing in the world. I made frequent excuses for myself - including the age old “But I EAT REALLY WELL AND EXERCISE” yeah, if doritos were a vegetable and The Sims were a full body work out, I had those bases covered.

Everything hurt for no reason sometimes, and I was light headed and just plain sick so often it started to feel normal. My joints felt like those of an 80 year old woman. I was desperately, unbelievably unhappy and suicidal.

I want to share another thing with you before I get to my overall point.

That was the first picture I EVER took of my full body after dropping that 50kg. It was one of the scariest things I’ve ever done.

So. My point.

When you look at women like Tess Munster, and you tell me that she’s the epitome of a happy, healthy, and confident woman, I think you’re an ignorant asshole. I can’t believe that people choose to normalise that kind of lifestyle, and accept the fact that she will probably send herself to an early grave, because at least she’s happy. She’s making a movement out of being too lazy and apathetic to make a beneficial change, and it’s sickening.

Some girl came up to me once and criticised my weight loss, because I inspired her by being an overweight girl on stage. What do I even say to that? “Sorry I’m not killing myself slowly to make you feel better about yourself.”

When you tell me that thin people have privilege, and that people should love you because you’re morbidly obese, it takes everything inside me not to hunt you down and slap you silly. You’re an idiot. No one is obligated to find your laziness and lack of concern for yourself or your health hot. No one should ever have to respect someone who can’t respect themselves. Being thin is not a privilege - for some of us, achieving it is damn hard work.

I’m still overweight, and I know better than to demand someone find me attractive, or to get angry at someone for making fun of me with their friends. I also know better than to let it derail me or destroy me - rather, it fuels me.

Your fat acceptance is stupid. You’re telling women to accept a body that is killing them. You’re telling women it’s ok that you’re a massive drain on the medical system, as long as you think you feel good.

Screw your movement. I’d take actual, legitimate health over having my fat become a societal norm. I’d rather be relentlessly mocked for my weight than praised for it.

