Dear woman who tried to shame my body today,
There are a few things I’d like to say to you — a few things that I think you need to know; and I will lace my words with an excessive amount of photos of my glorious bod in a hot pink, see-through dress and bright red bikini, because I think it would do you good to see more of the body you decided to pick apart on social media today.
As a blogger, in one of my weekly contributions to another blog, I was asking followers to help me pick between three outfits that I chose for an upcoming date night with my husband. I think I looked really cute in all of them, for the record — and, sometimes a girl just wants a little feedback!
I answered you so politely when you criticized body. I told you that “I love my belly, my big butt, and my cellulite, as does my hubby! They’re part of me — no need to hide them! 😊 It’s not about looking thinner. The beauty of body acceptance is learning to love our flaws! ❤️”
You’re welcome to disagree with my view points and clothing choices all you want, but never once did I mention anything about your thoughts on my outfits. I also didn’t get upset… In fact, I think I gave a pretty polite and friendly response that spoke only of how I wasn’t ashamed of my body parts that you seemed to feel weren’t attractive.
You, a plus size woman yourself, stated that you were entitled to your opinion, then proceeded to tell me that loving my body was a copout because I am too lazy to try to better myself and my health. (Really, you said it!)
When I, again very politely, explained that I am in very good health, and wished you would realize that your comment was judgemental and uncalled for, you said that I must not be as secure as I claim to be because I was being defensive and over-sensitive.
You went on to say that that you had balls, and stood by your opinion… And that I shouldn’t be a blogger if I didn’t like it — somehow believing that it is your right to police my body, call me names, be blatantly rude, and that, because I have a blog, I’m not supposed to call you on it.
Others jumped to my defence, but you attacked them too, and laughed at the whole situation, referring to a comment I had posted for someone else, explaining to them how taking back the word ‘fat’ had empowered me.
I politely excused myself from the conversation, stating that your perseverance was admirable, that you had so much potential, and I wished you could have used it to uplift your fellow women rather than tear them down.
Soon after, your comment was removed. Obviously nobody was in agreement with your insults disguised as opinions, and false sense of entitlement… So, my apologies if the events may seem a little out of sequence, because again, your comment was deleted, which took all of your, my, and everyone else’s carefully crafted rebuttals with it, leaving me with only my tear-filled (sarcasm, in case you didn’t pick up on that) memories to refer to. You are entitled to your opinion, let’s just get that out of the way so you don’t have to say it again, but I will not let you believe, when you attack my body and character then accuse me of being insecure when I respond, that I can’t see right through your smug facade, to a woman who is filled with self-doubt, insecurity, envy and fear.
I will also not allow you make me love myself any less than I did before reading your enlightening comments — in fact, they’ve made me love myself more! You see, when you show your true colours, and they’re dim, grey and muddy, they make mine shine much brighter.
What you thought would stop me really just propelled me forward, and reaffirmed how important my blogging truly is.
So what I’m really saying here, is thank you. Thank you for making me feel even more beautiful, secure, and important today.
I know your intention was to make yourself feel better by trying to bring me down, so I’m sorry (not sorry) that I couldn’t help, but I would gladly love to offer you a compliment if you ever decide to actually post a profile picture of yourself one day. I’m sure you have all kinds of beauty that you just don’t see when you look in the mirror.
And lastly, even though your attempts at hurting me failed miserably, I hope you come to understand that not everyone is as strong and confident as me. Not everyone will be able to take something wonderfully positive away from the experience of having a person try to publicly humiliate them; and not everyone will understand that your attempts at trashing their self-esteem, are really just projections of your own insecurities.
Bikini, Addition Elle – here
So, I was called fat and ugly in front of my kids today by a woman who didn’t like hearing the truth.
While I was in a parking lot, driving away from the store, I witnessed a man in his car, cut off another car (this woman’s) as he left his parking spot. The woman stopped, rolled down her window and screamed at the man, who had a thick accent, calling him a son if a b*tch, and telling him to go back to his f*cking country.
As the man drove off, I looked at the woman like “really!?”
She then pulled up next to my car with a grin, as if I were about to take her side… But I wasn’t. I told her what she said was wrong. Yes, he should have signalled, but I was disgusted by the words she chose to say to this man, who honestly, just made a mistake. See, my husband is a Haitian immigrant, and I would lose my sh*t if anyone ever spoke that way to him!!!
As she tried to defend herself, I rolled up my window, not having any of it. My son continued to look at her, so she drove around to the other side of the car, got out, and attempted to open his door! Like, really!? Luckily, I had locked them.
Frustrated that she couldn’t do whatever it was that she wanted to do to him, she began to scream at me through our closed windows “go on a diet (accompanied by gestures) you fat b*tch, you’re fat and ugly!!!” I just looked her straight in the eye, grinned, and she got back in her car and drove off unsatisfied by my lack of reaction.
All this, in front of my children. I’m so disgusted that she would be so low, but I am not insulted. She, and people like her, just continue to motivate me and fuel my mission. Her ignorance and lack of respect only make me realize how important what I’m doing truly is!!!
I am fat! Nobody can use that to insult me! And although I wish it hadn’t happened, I’m still glad my children got to see how strong I am and how her words of hate did not shake me.
Just figured I’d share, in case any of you ever need a bit of strength when facing a bully; and I’ll also take this opportunity to thank you all once again for being a part of my journey – you have no idea how much you keep me inspired!!!
I recently shared a Daily Mail article on my Facebook page, about how women are fat-shamed three times a day – a sad reality.
The outpouring of comments that I received truly touched me, because so many of you have dealt with being humiliated based on your sizes, just as I have in the past.
I was tormented by my peers in grade school. I endured teasing, name calling, cow noises… You name it. And when I look back, the saddest part of it all was the brave face I had to show till I got home and could cry into my pillow.
I thought the bullying of my school days was behind me, until coincidentally, last night I was publicly, and directly FAT SHAMED, while enjoying one of my favourite unhealthy treats, poutine; and for those of you who aren’t familiar, it’s a sinful Quebec specialty, consisting of French fries smothered in gravy, and curd cheese – definitely not waistline friendly, but it’s my weakness. That and an ice cold Coke.
I posted about it on Facebook almost as soon as it happened, because I was just so taken aback by it that I felt an overwhelming need to share it with all of you.
As many of you know, I recently shared an article on fat shaming, and your wonderful, and heartbreaking comments blew me away and really touched my heart. I haven’t been TRULY made fun of in many years, and just tonight, while eating out (poutine of all things) a drunk jerk made waddling and fat belly gestures at me and yelled out “oh yeah, eat that poutine” (in French). I thought I would have been less humiliated than I was, in all honesty, and while I’m not upset, I was really embarrassed, and felt like finishing my food in my car. I didn’t, but the fact that I thought about going to hide to finish my meal makes me realize I still have a lot of work to do.
Just thought I would share…
It felt like elementary school all over again. That feeling of being mortified doesn’t change. Same anxious ball of stress in the pit of my stomach, same feeling of fighting back tears, same anger. I had forgotten what it felt like to be coldly, and deliberately humiliated. I’ve been embarrassed in other life situations, due to my size, the mortifying airplane seatbelt check, for one; and people have made comments or assumptions that have bothered me. “You really shouldn’t eat that”, or servers in restaurants asking me if I want Diet, when I odered a Coke – like, would you ask a skinny person that if she ordered it? Maybe, but when you ask me, I can feel your judgement as I say “no, a regular Coke, please”. Is it so unbelievable that I would want to treat myself to something that I love?
Now, I know that the server could have just been checking, to make sure she got my order right. And yes, it’s possible that it had nothing to do with my weight; but here’s the problem – fat shaming has now become so ingrained in people’s minds, that they do it unknowingly, without even realizing that they’ve been programmed to see us as weak, undisciplined, incompetent, and unworthy.
Big words, I know. And I’m sure my server had no idea how she was making me feel, and probably never thought of herself as someone who humiliated fat people, because society as a whole had told her that viewing me that way was normal.
The @#$hole last night, was doing it on purpose, his buddies snickering along with him, and I’m ashamed to admit it, but all I could do was look down and pretend I didn’t hear them.
Like is said,
I still WE STILL have a lot of work to do, because through years of humiliation, we’ve learned to just accept being laughed at; and I know we’ve probably all been the victims of our own imaginations before, but the double takes in the street for eating an ice cream cone, or when you can’t fit in the booth at a restaurant and the other patrons can’t help but steal a second glance at the fat girl trying to squeeze in, the walk of shame to a different table as people whisper amongst themselves, they’re real. That @#$hole in the street – he was real.
But we’re real too; and we deserve to be treated just like everybody else.
Although I’m disappointed in myself for not speaking up last night, I know that I’ve come a long way. The journey continues, and I’m so thankful to have all of you, my amazing followers, alongside me for the ride!