thisisthinprivilege:

My friend had gotten married on a tropical island in a private ceremony in Hawaii and once she got back to the east coast she had a very casual party for her friends and family at a brewery. I hadn’t seen her or several other friends since my own wedding and sat with another friend who was there with her extended family and her long-term boyfriend who is a firefighter. We sat in a corner of the bar where, for the most part, we began having a good time.

Soon enough the firefighter started telling a story about a recent rescue where one of the women on the second floor was not only wheelchair bound but significantly overweight. Using large gestures, hateful words, and throwing his whole body into the story, he went on and on about how saving this woman’s life was a comical thing … he didn’t know how he was going to get her down the stairs without her rolling over him and crushing him. My friend, her sisters and brothers, and even the bartender were all laughing till tears were running down their face. My husband had gone to the men’s room and I was trapped in a corner, listening to this story which this man kept elaborating upon … the more people laughed the wider his arms got to indicate how he tried to carry her, the more he puffed out his cheeks to indicate her girth … the more his life was in danger as he struggled down the stairs with her.

I felt nauseous and when my husband returned I grabbed him and ran to the balcony for air - and immediately broke down into tears. I was thrown into a panic attack so severe that I could barely go back into the bar to get my coat. ”Where are you going?” my friend (with the firefighter boyfriend) asked. ”Don’t leave … [Boyfriend]’s telling funny stories!” I stared at her through tears, pushed her aside and ran from the bar. Out front I asked my husband to make my apologies to the newlyweds. We’d driven 200 miles, booked a hotel, and had stayed for perhaps an hour before this happened. The image of this terrified handicapped woman trapped in her own home being used as fodder … something inside me broke that night in a way that never did before.

This was two years ago and every time I read something on TITP I think of that night. Of course I have stories of my own - not being asked to be a bridesmaid at my best friend’s wedding because I was 40 lbs larger than the other gals … having my dad tell me I couldn’t visit him at his office till I lost weight because he didn’t want to introduce me to his co-workers … having a cousin hear about my amazing job at a big magazine and respond with “Okay, sure … but is she still fat?” (and even worse … not evening being present for that remark, but have my own mother relay it to me later, just to make sure I knew it was said). But those things were MY stories. Hearing about this woman who didn’t have the right to be rescued without being ridiculed … something about that hurt in a way I could never describe.

Thin privilege is having a firefighter rescue you from a burning building with dignity. Thin privilege is not having your terror turned into a stand up comedy routine at a wedding reception by a man who is doing the job he was paid to do. Further, thin privilege is not understanding how your boyfriend’s “funny story” is reducing your friend to tears.

For the record … while I’ve been in touch with the bride and groom I have never spoken to my “friend” again. And I guess that’s thin privilege too … thin privilege is not being ashamed of explaining to your friend why her boyfriend’s words cut you to the core and ended your friendship. Maybe one day I’ll be brave enough to explain what happened that night. I realize that’s my issue but every time I read another post here I grow braver.

Thank you for letting me tell my story.