So sorry I lied to you; an omission of my core belief...
On believing my body will keep me from love.
tw: internalized fatphobia, body image, etc.
This piece is not how I saw myself beginning this confession.
But I felt compelled to write this. Moved to tears. Chest warming. It literally started to feel like I was holding a sentient bag of bricks begging me to put them down. I have been doing a lot of that lately, setting down luggage that was thrust upon me.
I hope you will forgive me, and remember my piece last week on no longer wanting to give pretext, context, or subtext to everything. So, I imagine some folks will take the things I say a certain way…so be it.
I do think my body will keep me from finding a partner. I simply do not know another way to say it. I am not trying to unravel years and years of fat positive/body neutral work I have done for myself, or the work of activists and creators who continue to fight for our collective liberation. And I know, you know, that fatness and the femme body, especially the Black, especially the queer, comes with so much fucking voyeuristic social, political, historical context. I know. And yet, this is the painful wall I run into time and time again.
I don’t worry about my personality, or if I not only possess, but showcase my ability to be a loving, caring, supportive person. Ya know, the qualities that really matter.*
What keeps me from ever truly and earnestly putting myself out there—what keeps me from ever telling a crush I am into them—what keeps me from ever making a move on anyone ever—is my body.
I don’t think I blatantly carry myself that way, but I cannot ignore the way this subconscious belief has impacted my life. This belief that was born from experience! This belief is like —a cyst or an ingrown hair. And if the analogy makes you recoil, it should because that’s what it feels like. It shouldn’t be there, it’s painful to touch, and I am not 100% sure on how to get rid of it.
In my life it has always always always come down to my body. Always.
My brain simply has not let go of the years of rejection, when a more naive but brave me would approach my crushes. It was always, “you’re funny, but you’re fat,” “you’re nice, but you’re fat,” “you’re [other sweet thing that I do believe about myself,] but you’re fat.”
Part of me wants to feel shame and shake myself out of it because it was years ago get over it. Unfortunately, even though those years are long behind me—they were in fact some of my most formative. I have touched on this in my piece about how I cannot approach people, and even then I skirted around the fact that there is this insurmountable barrier always lingering in the back of my head.
Yeah, rejection sucks and I am still learning to not take it so hard. But there is a specific kind I am not sure my brain can hold. I don’t know if any part of me can handle a, “I like all of these really good, truly important qualities about you, but I find your physical appearance unappealing, so no.”
And even as I type this it’s such a conundrum for me in many ways because it does not 100% align with how I view me or how I allow others to treat me.
I do not shy away from mirrors or my nakedness in the way younger me did. I don’t fear getting dressed anymore. In fact, I’ve grown to enjoy and truly invest in my style because I find clothing more fun the older I get. And shockingly—volume dressing—adding more to my body—making it bigger, taking up more space is my favorite.
I don’t run to a former impulse, to talk about whether or not I go to the gym or engage in movement.
I more often than not look in my mirror and say, “you look fucking cool” [I’d pick cool for myself over hot/sexy/cute etc but I don’t mind those observations from others].
And when I do have a bad body day/thought—it’s so much easier to metabolize the feeling vs internalize it. Like when I chose to wear a sleeveless dress for my bestfriend’s wedding. Initially I asked myself if I was I going to be uncomfortable and self conscious of my arms all day and in every photo, or was I going to be present for this person I love so much? I will pick her every time. And I felt beautiful in every way being by her side.
The kindness and love I show myself also permeates into how I allow others to treat me. I have never in my life accepted anything other than someone who has loudly been attracted to every part of me when engaging intimately or romantically. If you’re anything other than excited about the chance to see me in the spectrum of dress and undress, I don’t and won’t accept it.
And yet here I am so firmly stuck believing that on the list of reasons I would be rejected, my body is always #1. Even if I understand that at the end of the day, most rejection has little to do with me. This is one of those—I know in theory, but in practice…
In practice, I cannot be in a bar and even say “hi” to someone I find attractive. I cannot tell my crush that I like them. In practice, I never consider people may want to approach me, or have a crush on me. And it always starts with my body.
And I don’t need you to tell me that you see fat people in love all the time. That you see fat people, “get the person they want all the time.” That fat people are beautiful, and deserving and worthy. Not only do I know, but I have fat people in my life I witness being loved, pursued, adored etc every damn day.
Part of writing this and admitting it in hopes of idk…maybe a new positive neuro-pathway can be formed. That admitting it to myself and others lessens the screaming voice in my head any time I even consider putting myself out there—in literally any capacity.
It’s not just the thought, the belief that my body is a proverbial anchor anklet in the ocean, it’s the grief, the sadness, the timidness. The way I beg and plead for things to happen to me or for me vs being an active participant in creating alignment and opportunities to not only be sought after, but also actively seek others.
It’s a thought I don’t want anymore because it truly does not align with me and continues to break my heart.
From experience removing an ingrown hair is not fun, and definitely does not feel good in the process, but the relief at the end—euphoric. So, I fear this week the resolution is just sharing this. We have begun the process, the heat is on.
I don’t need or want any sympathy, pity, or even praise. I just want to put this shit down. I want to use the space left from my admission for good things. I want an excavation of this belief I cannot shake. I want space to stop projecting this belief onto others, and be open to receiving their goodness too.
I want to believe in my core that this body is morally neutral. That I can and will have all of the things I desire in this body. That on my best and worst days this body is a beautiful manifestation of the love and kindness that exists in me.
Now you know. I know. And I can do what I always do…
❤️ Thank you for letting us see this.
You’re amazing, dude