As a woman who hasn’t been below a US size 18 since I WAS 18, I was absolutely flabbergasted today when I was on the university bus and was told by a girl my age and around the same size… that it was my fault that fat girls are treated like shit.

Now, to explain.

When I was younger, I lived out of a sweatshirt. From middle school all throughout high school, I didn’t wear anything to school that wasn’t a sweatshirt or something that was baggy that I could hide inside. As I was a super tiny girl as a child, when I began gaining weight during puberty I was humiliated. I wouldn’t eat for days, then would overeat and make myself sick. I would work out (as a 12 year old) on my mom’s treadmill hidden in the back of the garage at night when no one would tell me to stop. My older sister, who was rail-thin always made fun of me for my weight (typical sibling fighting… My parents always told her she was the beautiful one and I was the smart one. Once we got older, we realized that the reason we fought so much was because she wanted to be seen as smart and all I wanted to be was seen as beautiful.) Either way, I fucking hated myself. I hurt myself and would hate myself more, and so on in the circle of bitterness.

When I got into college, I made friends who cared about me, despite my weight. I was accepted into these friendships with no qualms, and we did amazing and awesome things. I began to slowly change, and accept myself for who I was–the lumps, the curves, the weird jiggling of my thighs, everything. And, when I studied abroad for a year and opened myself up to romantic and sexual relationships, I realized–holy shit. I am beautiful exactly how I am. And anyone who couldn’t accept that could suck it.

Of course, with this love I began to love myself more and started loving things that made me feel beautiful–skirts, heels, dresses, cool stuff that I’d make, all that stuff. I decided that I am beautiful and so I would do with my body whatever I damn well pleased. I’d put on makeup, do things with my hair, whatever. I actually like it, because when I’m in stores or stuff, other big women come up to me and ask me “where’d you find that top?” and I can actually tell people that yes, there are AWESOME places you can buy plus size clothes, or you can even cut up ‘straight’ and some smaller plus sizes and make things that you couldn’t even imagine–with no need for knowing how to sew. I’m lucky and privileged that even though I’m definitely fat, I’m still able to find clothes in my size. I know this isn’t easy for others, which is actually why I love making clothes and doing tutorials and all that jazz. Everyone should get to feel the way they want and look however they damn well please.

The day in question I got on the bus after having a really awful morning. I had gone to the doctor and while the doctor had been awesome, but the nurse… not so stellar. She had critiqued my weight and height, told me I was overweight, and then proceeded to just piss me off by telling me about nutrition and BMI. Despite that… I had perfect blood pressure, normal blood sugar, and could run a fucking mile if I really wanted to. And honestly, fuck this “your meat needs to be exactly the size of a deck of cards.” No. I’m going to eat food when I am hungry until I am NOT hungry any longer. Just because I’m fat doesn’t mean I’m unhealthy (which is a horribly misconception and when the doctor came in and saw me fuming… actually agreed with me. She said I was healthier than some of the 'ideal’ weight students my age.) And… she all but called me a whore, which had me damn near tears, as well. Way to slut-shame, college campus nurse. Way to go. Yes, the fat girl fucks people. >.<

So, I was already having a bad day, but I decided to go to class and suck it up like a big girl.

I sat cross from a girl who was with a friend, and she said very loudly something along the lines of “and that’s why fat girls will never get respect."

My mouth dropped open, and for a minute I didn’t believe what was happening. Surely… she couldn’t be talking about me, right? Right…?

"When fat girls pretend to be thin girls you get that.” She bobbed her head at me.

I spent my entire life being told I wasn’t worth anything because of my weight. I was more than overweight–I was clinically obese according to the shithead nurse only a little while ago. And yet here I am in the clothes I made and heels and actually feeling confident despite dealing with dicks… and… then that.

I asked her “what do you mean?”

Her response: “You’re trying to hide your weight behind makeup and dresses. You’re fat. Get used to it."

I sat there, stunned. What the fuck is going on when fat girls are actually now attacking other fat girls? Is the fact that I wear a dress and makeup any different than the girl who wears the t-shirt and jeans? Is my appearance indicative that I’m 'hiding myself and attempting to not be fat’? And who is allowed to judge who I am and what I am on what I put on or in my body?

It feels like I have no place to fit in anymore. My fellow fat girls don’t want me because I wear dresses, and the thin girls don’t want me because I weigh two of them.

I tried asking her and her friend what they meant, and what I could understand was thus:

By purchasing or making feminine clothing, I am masking who I really am and what I look like. I am attempting to 'thin’ myself by being overly girlish. My purchasing of makeup that makes ME feel good is directly related to the fact that I’m trying to impress other people and make then overlook my 'fatness’. I was a cog in the fat-hating machine by bending to what was typically thinness, despite not being thin. And, when other people saw me, I made them think that if a fat girl doesn’t dress up, she’s worth nothing.

And then she said this: I acted like a thin girl.

But, uh… I don’t think any thin girls pulled me aside and invited me into the super secret thin-girl club. I still get sneers and jeers (and if one more person thinks calling me 'mammy’ is cute, I will break their face) and deal with the fat hate. I deal with doctors shaming me for my weight. I deal with the looks and the "you have such a nice face…” that drops off, and every fat girl knows how that sentence ends.

And yet… some lace and heels automatically throws me from the 'normal’ fat girls club. Just on looks alone.

I follow all these awesome plus-size and acceptance blogs, and so many fatshion blogs… and yet, when I walk outside I feel like I should be back inside my sweatshirt not because of the fuckers whose opinion taught me to hate myself… but the girls who, out of everyone, I expected to feel the most comfortable being around.

I feel like there’s a memo out there that explains this, but right now… I just feel really humiliated.

- Submitted by saijrockcorner