I can’t really frame this in a “this is thin privilege way”, but this is a story of fat oppression that I feel like needs to be told. It is a long story but an important one to the fat movement.

In the first year of college, I was very large. I am still large now (about 120kg, 264 pounds, and 169cm) and back in college I was pretty much the same. I was always very quiet and unassuming which I think is partially why I got away with minimal teasing/ harassment/ bullying. But I see now the main reason I did not experience much fat-shaming (or anything similar) is because of the people I hung out with. My whole group of friends from high school ended up at the same few universities and they were all private school, trust fund kids who didn’t take anything from anybody. They were, essentially, the bullies. By extension, I was protected in their bubble. Nobody dared say anything to me because they knew I was part of that group. However, looking back, I see that fat phobic comments and conversations were rampant and I was too scared to say anything. When my friends said things like “I just had a whole burger, I’m gonna be so fat!” or “ew, look at her, she’s huge!” I just felt the need to shut up and pray they didn’t turn on me. When people on the streets gave me looks or when I was treated differently by staff in restaurants/shops, I was too embarrassed to tell my friends.

However, in some ways, I enjoyed an extension of privilege. I enjoyed the fact that although I was fat, I wasn’t really one of THOSE “fatties.” When my friends bullied fat people just for existing, I felt like I was exempt, that I wasn’t really a BAD fat person. Because I wasn’t being bullied, I felt better then them. I was brainwashed.

Around the end of first year of college, a new girl joined our group. She instantly became the centre of attention–naturally, she was thin, white and fit all the societal standards of beauty. Her and I got along however I always could tell there was something a bit strange about her.

One night her and I went out for a drink to one of the local bars. We sat down at a table and talked for a while about random things. At some point I got up to get us more drinks and I was waiting at the bar (reluctant and slow service isn’t an unusual thing for someone my size, as I’m sure a lot of readers will understand) and began watching the couple who were seated next to our table. What was noticeable about them was the fact that the woman was very large–she would’ve been just a bit older then me but fatter then myself. The man was average sized. As I was standing waiting for the drinks, the woman got up and went to the bathroom. That’s when I saw my friend stand up and walk over to the man. She started talking to him and it seemed very, very intimate. It was less then a minute and my friend and this man–this fat woman’s date–were exchanging phone numbers. I was very confused and slightly suspicious but did not ask about it that night.

The next day I told my best friend about what had happened. Her reaction? “Oh yeah, she does that.” I asked what she meant by that and my best friend explained that this girl, my supposed friend, “played games sometimes.” She would go out and purposely look for men who were with fatter girls and then flirt with them, sometimes taking it further. My best friend said, and I still remember to this day, that the girl saw it as “saving” the guys. “Giving them what they weren’t getting." I was so horrified and sick to my stomach but best friend just seemed to see it as a strange quirk. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

But I was too afraid to speak out at first. I knew it was absolutely wrong but I had no idea what to say or who I could tell. Most of my friends brushed it off. Some found it funny. None seemed to morally object to it. In the end, I was so afraid of leaving the little comfort zone I had found that I didn’t do anything about it. Eventually, after a month or so, the whole issue faded out of my mind (I definitely stopped hanging out with her as much as I could but otherwise I couldn’t say anything) and I went on with my life.

In the summer/Christmas break, I got a boyfriend. It was my second real boyfriend and he was a kind, witty, intelligent (med student!) guy. He was also quite athletic, and to top it off very attractive. I felt like I had hit the jackpot. I became more confident in myself–I wore more revealing clothes that I had never dared to before, and I went out more often. He became part of my friendship group and we all went out every weekend. It was the best time of my life in memory.

Towards the end of the summer break, we went out for a friends birthday. The girl was there (this was the one of the first times I’d been out with her since seeing her flirting with that man) but I didn’t even really notice her. As we were about to go from one bar to another, I searched around the place for my boyfriend. And there he was in the bathroom, with this girl. In a very compromising position. I stood there for a few moments and just looked at them–my boyfriend looked like a deer in the headlights, the girl looked very smug. I ran straight out of the place and went straight home.

The details came out over the next few days. He had been cheating on me with her for pretty much three quarters of the time we’d been going out. Most of my friends had known but apparently they hadn’t seen our relationship as ‘real’ anyway so they didn’t think it mattered (as one friend put so nicely). My boyfriend called me a few times to try and explain but all he could say was that he liked my personality but felt like I "didn’t take care” of myself enough and that he “needed” someone like the girl because I wasn’t a “real girl.” The most sickening thing I found out was that to many people he introduced this other girl as his girlfriend because he was ashamed to say he was with me, the fat girl. I was almost like a secret toy to place with.

This is when I became a fat activist. This is when I decided enough was enough. This is when I broke ties with the fatphobic people in my life and decided to make a stand. I found a voice and started calling out people and privilege.

The problem is that I only did it when it finally came full circle and affected me. I let these people, my 'friends’, bully, abuse, harass and attack fat people because I benefited from thin privilege-by proxy. Just because I wasn’t being affected by fat phobia I didn’t bother raising my voice. I think every single person needs to assess their own lives and see if they are in a similar situation. This story illustrates horrible, horrible fat phobia and a blatant hatred of fat people, but it also illustrates that just because you are not being affected by fat phobia does not mean that others aren’t. When you don’t stand up for what is right, the fat oppression will continue. Don’t wait for something to trigger it–start fighting for fat rights and fat acceptance NOW.

I have found new friends (I am harassed by my old friends whenever I see them on campus or around but I take that in my stride as me doing something right) and become a fat activist but I will always regret not speaking up or doing something sooner.