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Inside the MuMu

20 Oct

So, you ask….what’s it like to be fat? Because I am sure all of you with a “normal” body askmumu this every single day. Ha Ha!!! But, nobody wants to be there. Who has ever said in their head, oh man! I would love to be the fat friend! The jovial one! Ha!

Well, before I become who I have wanted to be for years, I would like to let you into the mumu as it were. Let you see it from an inside source!

First of all, I feel like a slim and hot woman stuck inside of a fat body. I would LOVE to wear so many different types of clothing. I yearn for awesome looking clothes, I pine for normal clothes shopping….but alas, I have to shop at the big girl stores like Pennington’s and Maurice’s carries some pretty nice things as well. I am not knocking these stores, but try to shop anywhere with my normal sized friends and get clothes….not fun in the least. Just because I am big does not mean that I want to wear crap clothes all the time. Big girl clothes are so expensive too! You can get cheap stuff at WalM…..but really, I am not 60 years old and want to wear slacks and shirts with a generic print on them. Not cool. If I go to the good stores like the ones I listed above, I have to spend at least $100 to get a decent outfit. I look at the stores in the mall with tags like $10 for a shirt…..I wish!

Another aspect is the problem of seating. Everywhere I go in public, or other people’s homes, I have to scan the seating and check out where I can sit. I don’t want to sit in a chair with arms,chair it might be too tight and then all of my hip and leg fat would seep out the side of the chair…this is not pretty and it doesn’t feel so hot either. It makes a person embarrassed. I think twice before sitting in regular plastic deck chairs, these are not stable for someone of hefty sizes. I look for a big, sturdy chair, couch or I just stand and lean. Imagine for a second, when making plans with people to go out and having to think about how you will fit in anywhere, everywhere you go.

Your feet. Yes, your feet. Every woman I know does not like to have gnarly looking feet and toenails. So, we take care of them, we cut the nails and paint them and even put on toe rings. This is fine for anyone but a plus sized woman. Did you know, that your stomach gets in the way when you bend over? You can only bend over as far as your stupid yucky belly fat will let you go. It does not spread around to your sides so you can reach your toes. It stays stationary in front. So, it makes it hard to sit down and paint your toes. It is even hard to put on your socks like a normal person.fat-belly I either have to prop my leg up sideways on the bed or couch and put my socks on, or I sit and pull up my leg… this is fun! Doesn’t it sound great?

Eating. Eating in front of anyone but your family members is hell….sometimes. I go through so much anxiety when eating with people. I think things like I wonder if they are disgusted by my food choice, do I look disgusting when I eat? Do they think I am full of shit when I say that I can’t finish my meal and I am full? Social anxiety comes with being me…the plus sized version. I hardly go anywhere. I really haven’t been out all that much in the last year. I think I can maybe count two times that I went out with friends.

Rings. I love my wedding rings, I love all of my rings. I just can’t wear them. I haven’t been able to wear them since last Christmas. So, I am married and can’t wear my wedding band. This bums me out.

Cars and seatbelts. That is self explanatory.

I am not lazy. Being fat does notmean being lazy. I am not going to lie, there were times before I started exercising that I was exhausted. I really didn’t want to delve into housework and start something that I didn’t want to finish. I would get tired halfway through and want to quit. That could have been the depression too though. But I work. I used to work 70 hour weeks. Up half the night doing work for the bakery and then spending half the morning cleaning and doing laundry, and spending as much time as I could with my kids. I am not nor ever have been or ever will be lazy.

No, I am not really happy all the time. I played the part of the care free happy go lucky and loud sometimes obnoxious friend/family member. I tried to be the happy one, I didn’t want to let anyone know me I guess. I tried to have louder opinions in order to distract from my physical appearance. Using these things as a mask. So, when talking to a thin friend, sure, I was listening to them, but I was also assessing them, being jealous of their size and wonder if they ever felt out of place. Not all the time, but sometimes. I appreciate a good body, I look at bodies, because I don’t want to look at my own. I covet people’s body parts, like her butt and those legs and so on. I think about how comfortable their clothes must be on their bodies. To wear jeans and not have to cover everything up except my legs. I try to hide everything as much as I can.

Functions and celebrations. Everyone wants to look good when going to a celebration, but I can never look as good as I would like. I have to go buy an outfit that I don’t really love because that is all the store has and then I have to try to look my best. I get dressed, look in the mirror and I am satisfied that I look pretty good. When I get there, I compare myself to everyone. I don’t look so good now. This is where the self doubt and self loathing starts to come into play and  I spend the rest of the time at the event hoping not to walk in front of too many people, so they won’t really notice me too much. Not judge me. Not laugh at me. Yes, yes. I know, it is terrible and nobody should ever feel like this so much. But there is the reality. There is more to explain. There is so much more.

Grocery shopping. End of sentence.

The gym. Yes, yes, the gym. And I bet that a lot more people feel this than just oversized me. I feel so terrible walking in there and seeing the fit people and feeling inadequate. I know, this is where I should be.gym I should be exercising to get fit and be healthy. But there are some real assholes out there who make people like me feel like a big bag of shit just for walking in there. They judge and look, more like gawk and snicker and sneer. Really??? I would love to tell them where to go and just how to get there. But I will never stoop to that level. It still feels like crap though. Knowing that the one place that I can go to better myself and take control of my life is also the place with ridicule. Insert anxiety spike here.

Shoes. Ugh. Wide shoes. Shoe size goes up when you get fat…did you know that? I have to wear mens running shoes. Sorry, but they are ugly as sin. I want hot pink or bright blue or even purple runners. Not black and dark blue with red….ew.

Summer…..Gawd……sweaty sticky summer. I only wear skirts or capris. I never want tobig-bikini see my legs. The thighs rub together, jiggly yucky looking things. I would never have enough courage to wear a bathing suit on the beach in front of anyone except my husband and kids. I even went to a beach this year that I found hidden where nobody else was. Nobody saw me and I could joyfully swim with my children. Yes, big people beat themselves up on a regular basis. I do, and I am sure a high percentage of us do as well. Even thin people do it. Just imagine, you, thin person, who beats themselves up for not being as muscular or as fit or that you have a little ponch, imagine beating yourself up 100 times worse, ten times as much.

Its hard on the brain, the heart, the legs…etc. It’s hard to be this way. No body chooses to be fat. People choose to deal with personal things in all sorts of ways, and eating is one of them. It is kind of like an addiction. Some people use drugs, others use food. People should think of it like this more often. If they did, there might be some more help for people who don’t know how to deal with pain. Or even recognize it.

So, next time you see the big neighbour lady who is big, or you see your friend that is overweight, prop them up. Lift their spirits on their self image. They need some form of help, EVERYONE does. But our kind of pain, you can see.

And all of those who are big and do not agree with everything that I have said, that is okay. This is only my view on being a large person. I only referred to thinner people as normal to get my point across. I know that the word normal is offensive to some, but it was all in the measurement of which I was speaking.

No offence was intended during the making of this blog entry, just one woman’s opinion.

No fat people were harmed in the typing of this blog. he he

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