Fat Romance, Take Two

My blog is three months old today. I'm not quite sure how time flew by so fast, but in honour of the occasion I thought I would talk about someone and something else for a change. Instead of everything being about me.

One of the things that's really changed the way I look at myself is getting into the fat community. I'd always shied against getting involved in the fat community, because to me that conjured up images of fat people sat in a room being fat at each other, struggling to justify their existence and slapping each other on the back for choosing an apple over a chocolate bar. The problem I ahd with that is it was admitting I'm fat, and potentially putting myself in a confusing situation where i could be the biggest or smallest person in the room. I was never sure which one would be worse.

But that awesome thing about the internet is that you can join communities with a degree of anonymity. The amount of interaction with that community is up to you; you can choose to be a 'lurker' or a full blown outspoken member of that community. For me and the online fat community, it is allowing to be become positive about my body and gain the support I need without the self consciousness. And to date it has done me the world of good; the sites that I follow, and this blog have eased me into that world, and I now feel confident and comfortable with shouting out I'M FAT! SO FREAKING WHAT?!

One of the sites that has been instrumental for me is Big Fat Deal. It was because of the people in that community that I made the decision to start this blog; to lose the weight I want to, take charge in my own life, learn to accept who and what I am, and to publicise the whole thing. They recently did an article on a post over at The Rotund about fat dating, which struck a chord with me as I'd done a post on the pitfalls of being fat and looking for romance. Both are excellent pieces, but it was something said by lampdevil in the comments at Big Fat Deal that really blew me away.

I’ve spent more than my fair share of time moping around all single-like, convinced that my horrid ugliness was repulsing everyone and ruining my life. It’s an easy trap to fall into. But the last time I pulled myself out of it, it was due to the realization that I cannot meet guys if I do not… meet guys. Y’know. Leave the house. And go to places where people are. And meet those people.

It’s crazy, I know! But your chances of hookin’ up with someone are vastly improved if you put yourself out there. I forced my mopey ass out my apartment door and joined a gaming club, accepted every let’s-go-out-after-work invite from my female co-workers, and otherwise made an effort to locate people that I got along with. It was certainly no guarantee that I was going to meet a guy, but it was more entertaining than sitting at home vaccuming the cat hair from my couch. And hey, I made some friends! And I met some guys! And dated some guys! And dumped some guys. And moved in with this one guy that’s right awesome.

This goes for everyone, fat or skinny or short or tall or whatever. It’s not always easy to get into that place where you’re able to make connections with others, but it’s absolutely worth doing. The world is often not as hateful and harsh as one might think. Or maybe I’m just too cheerfully deluded to notice, ever since I managed to drown out my self-loathing inner soundtrack. Things feel so… bright. Hopeful. I keep positive people close to me, and I avoid the negative ones. Contentment with myself has transformed into something confidence-esque. And confidence is waaaaay attractive. :D

Now I know exactly how that feels; I've spent a heck of a lot of time moping around because I'm fat and ugly and no one will ever fancy me because how could anyone fancy someone who looks like this? The remarkable thing about that comment is that it applies to non fatties almost as often as it does fatties. I know and have known a large number of people, none of whom could ever be described as fat, with exactly that problem.

And the simple truth is this: it's not fatness that is ugly, nor is it the case that skinny is sexy. None of that really matters. When it comes to romance, and indeed friendships, the thing that matters far more than how you look is how you see yourself. Nobody is ever going to fancy a mopy shut in, except maybe another mopey shut in, but if they're both sat in their rooms moping all the time how are they ever going to meet. The most important thing in the world when it comes to developing meaningful relationships, both platonic and romantic, is to be an interesting, confident person than people want to talk to, to spend time with. Everything else is secondary.

Thinking back on my personal romantic experience it was certainly the case. I found the love of my life after deciding to give up on looking for romance and concentrating on finding new hobbies and becoming an interesting, outgoing and hopefully confident person.

Those of you who are reading this looking for romance, try something for me. Try putting it to the back of your mind, and concentrate on finding a new hobby, and on meeting new people. Don't be afraid to try new things, even if a few of them scare you. Even if you don't find the love of your life, you might find your're too busy having fun to worry about it.

Romance: The Pitfalls and Problems of Being Fat

Since it was Valentine’s Day recently, I thought I’d discuss the obvious impact being a fat girl has on your love life. I’ve made no secret of the fact I am currently in a relationship, and I’m very lucky that I’m with a good man, and that we’re very happy together. But I am almost painfully aware of how lucky I am, and it hasn’t always been this way. I have endured countless Valentine’s Day alone, and a significant portion of those where I had someone were a disappointment.

As a teen I had to endure all my friends getting together, knowing that I had next to no chance of finding someone. At one point, I was part of a group of seven; three boys and four of us girls. At parties the other six would pair off (in various combinations) and I would be left on my own, watching them flirt and cuddle and kiss. When it was at its worst I would crawl into a corner or under a table and cry. And none of them ever noticed. It was a sickeningly empty feeling, knowing that your friends were too wrapped up in themselves to notice they were leaving you on your own. It was disheartening knowing that however well you got on with boys, they would never see you as anything more than a friend.

I very rarely dared even think about pursuing a crush. If it ever got out that I liked a particular guy it would be the end of the world, because I couldn’t bear the look of revulsion in his face when he heard. And yes, I have actually seen revulsion in the eyes of a crush on finding out how I felt. I used to try convince myself that I was content to wait until these boys grew up a bit and realised that looks weren’t the be all and end all when it comes to romance. Now at 21, I have realised that there are many guys out there who will never grow out of wanting their girlfriend to be ‘hot’ at all costs, even the expense of a pleasant personality. And I take exception to thei definition of ‘hot’.

I remember having an argument with one of my male friends about a mutual female acquaintance. To my eyes she wasn’t terribly pretty; her face just wasn’t attractive. But the friend maintained that she was hot. When I protested that he only thought she was hot because she was skinny, he agreed, with a tone in his voice that said ‘duh!’, and couldn’t understand why I was so bothered by this. I had the same argument with him about another female acquaintance in the same situation; not terribly attractive face, but she was skinny and therefore hot. There is a mentality, certainly in the UK, that skinny=hot and hot=skinny. This means there are countless (female) celebrities who are considered beautiful, but their face are actually quite ugly. I won’t mention any names but I’m sure you can think of some. This mentality means that, as a fat girl, I’m at a natural disadvantage when it comes to romance, because men are being told daily that fat girls cannot be attractive. I have to try extra hard for them to find me attractive, and that usually ends up with me being ‘just friends’ with them.

But all this doesn’t mean I never had any romance, oh no, I actually had a fair amount of romance in my life as a teen. Some would call me lucky; I would ask them to read what I have to say before calling it. The men (and often more appropriately, boys) have all been of the same kind of person, almost without exception. These boys were all socially awkward, shy types with almost no idea on how to form a proper relationship with a member of the opposite sex. No other female wanted anything to do with them. I saw something others didn’t, that made them seem appealing, and they took advantage of me.

I wanted relationship; I wanted to talk and hug and kiss and laugh and hold hands. These boys dated me, not because they wanted the same things, but because I was a piece of flesh that was willing to give them the time of day. Almost without exception these boys showed little to no interest in me before I approached them romantically; they weren’t interested in me as a person, merely as a woman. All these boys wanted was to have sex, to lose their virginities. Some were subtler about this agenda than others, but on one occasion I was outright told by the boy in question that that was why he was with me. They took up with me when it suited them, and cast me aside when it became clear I wouldn’t give them what they wanted, or that they’d have to give too much before I did.

Thank goodness I had a strong enough will to wait until I was ready, but this attitude from the boys and men I’ve dated left me extremely damaged. After a while you start to view yourself as they do. I had a very low opinion of my looks to start off with, which was only made worse by the fact my only redeeming factors, to them, seemed to be my tits and my vagina. All in all it was a series of very upsetting and hurtful situations, and at least part of me wishes I’d remained single instead of going through all that.

Thankfully, this story does have a happy ending. There are guys out there who prefer a good personality to a great pair of tits. There are guys out there who prefer woman with natural curves (as opposed ‘melons on toothpicks’ as Sam is wont to call skinny girls). There are men out there who deserve your time and attention, because they don’t just see you as ‘that fat chick’ or ‘one of the guys’.

I’ve found that things improve a great deal on realising that romance isn’t the be all and end all of life. But its not easy getting to that stage. The more disappointments you have, the better things feel when you actually find a good relationship, but the more you crave a relationship at all costs. I’ve made that mistake myself many times. Right now I’m with a good man. He screws up once in a while (and more often that he’d like or care to admit), because he still partly falls into the socially awkward category. But more important that anything else he wants me for me, and no other person will do. He’s not just after sex, he’s not with me because he wants a relationship and I happened to be willing. He wants me for me, and thinks I’m beautiful. I had to wait until I was 19 for a boyfriend to call me beautiful, but it was worth the wait, and very nearly worth all the disappointment in between.

Right now I’m happy. I am aware of just how bloody lucky I am. I do my best not to take him for granted; I do my best to show him I appreciate him. I remember what it was like to not have him, and going through it all again doesn’t sound fun. If you’re still looking, hang in there, there’s someone out there who will want you, and only you. It’s just a matter of finding the elusive bugger.