Isnt Being A Wicked Woman Much Better – My first love went to art school, and at the beginning of our acquaintance, he invited me to a student exhibition of his photography. On the walls hang disturbing photographs, a kind of ghostly self-portrait of her changing body. He had started testosterone before we met, and double-exposure photos showed his body as a spectrum as the hormones took root.
We lived two states apart and met on weekends in the middle of Boston, spending long days together. He wrote me letters almost every day, and I answered them like clockwork. His love letters came as a shock, took my breath away. I answered thick paper, sometimes sprinkling perfume. He put the letters on the bedroom mirror.
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You say very nice things about me. I guess if I keep looking at them, I’ll start to believe them.
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Over time, our meeting in Boston turned into a weekend at his apartment. Lying together on his bed, we daydreamed about my move to Boston after graduation. I started looking for a job, and he started looking for an apartment.
But every time I imagined our future, I couldn’t imagine myself. This beautiful life belonged to someone else and he deserved better. Someone is easier, sweeter, fresher and of course more subtle.
Oil. As of this writing, I weigh 342 lbs and wear a women’s size 26. My body mass index (BMI) describes my body as “super morbidly obese” or “extremely obese”. While my body is not the fattest in existence, it is the fattest that BMI can imagine. Three years ago I weighed just over 400 pounds and wore a size 30 or 32 depending on the fit. When I graduated high school, I wore the highest size red bandeau I could find at the time: a women’s 24.
For me, my body size is a simple fact. I don’t struggle with self-esteem or negative body image. I don’t lie awake at night longing for a leaner body or that elusive 100 pounds. For me, my body is not good or bad; he is alone
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But neither in life nor in the media have I seen love for a fat woman. I have never seen fat women dating. I have never seen a fat woman who asserts herself and respects her partners. Since this is uncharted territory, I thought it was uncharted. My will to take risks has drained from my large, soft body. If it meant loving, how could he love me?
Despite being described as having a “very handsome face”, I was constantly reminded that it was impossible for my body to want it. We met at the height of the popularity of sites like Hot or Not
Everywhere I looked, bodies were openly criticized and categorized, and mine always ended up near the bottom of the scale – 2, 3, 4. His thinness alone earned him a higher position. In the ruthless calculation of dating and relationships, our numbers did not match.
But it wasn’t just him. I had learned that I was unwanted by almost everyone. For years, my body has been at the center of my love life. Dates constantly commented on my measurements, an instinctive reaction to their own desires and concerns. Over time, I perceived any attraction as unreliable, as if danger lurked nearby. Looking back, I worried about my physical safety, as if only violence could create an appetite for a soft body like mine. And I was afraid of becoming a new, more sexual interest than the one I loved.
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Wanting a body like mine meant that my partners were irrational, stupid, or resigned to settling for less than what they wanted. In the years after my first breakup, I found it difficult to accept interest wherever I found it. No matter what a potential partner looked like or how exciting they were, I couldn’t trust their attraction. I recoiled from their hands like a hot iron, avoiding their touch, believing that their interests were impossible or pathological. Any intimacy required vulnerability, and vulnerability inevitably led to humiliation.
This is one of the greatest victories of the fight against fat: it stops us before we start. His biggest win isn’t diet industry sales or lives deferred
. It is the belief that our bodies make us so worthless that we are unworthy of love, or even touch.
When these small cracks opened into wounds, I covered them by telling the story of our relationship. It has always been impossible, too good to be true, and too subtle. Maybe he felt sorry for me, showing sympathy for the poor fat girl, doing charity. I told myself that he doesn’t want to be with me. I told myself that he was too kind to do what he knew had to be done and dump me. I told him that the best thing I could do for him was to leave. That’s what I did.
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I didn’t know how to be loved. I couldn’t see that happening. So I broke both of our hearts.
Later in my 20s, I decided to get back into dating apps after briefly dating a friend of a friend. I had been on Bumble for less than a day when I matched with someone. I texted him, just to see how he would respond with a waving emoji. This was the first informal step in my selection process. He did not reach the second.
I love my fat women. A big girl usually means a big mouth. A good handiwork is also best done by a chubby hand. But usually older girls please their men better.
Like any woman, I expect revealing photos, unwanted advances, and epithets when I dare to say no. But I’ve also dealt with messages like this coming into my fat body—a body they expect to receive simply because of its size. In their eyes, I was not a new land to conquer. No, I would gladly go there because of what they have conquered.
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But more than that, this message echoed many experiences I’ve had before. It featured fraternity brothers’ “pick-up” contests to sleep with fat women, “pork roasts” to see who could sleep with the fattest woman, and endless fat jokes on TV. He echoed the friendly and waiting man who asked me for my number at the bar, before retiring to announce his challenge to his friends: he took the fattest girl’s number. It mirrored my fat ex who complimented me on my safety, told me “until I knew I wanted someone to fuck me” and then asked me to come back to his house. Echoing the concerns of family and friends, she undermined her promise of love and healthy relationships at a lighter weight:
And then messages like this on top of all that. Messages treating my body as a towel: abundant, available, disposable, garbage. It’s not just fat people who live with anti-fat effects in our relationships. Those messages are hard for people who are with us, love us, marry us, sleep with us. They are also trapped. After all, in our cultural scenarios, a fat partner is at best a failure and at worst a shameful and pathological fetish. Fat people are a perverse thing to desire, to hide, to be ashamed of, to hide.
But data and research on sexuality paint a different picture. In their book A Billion Wicked Thoughts, computational neuroscientists Ogi Ogas and Sai Gaddam analyzed the largest database of pornography viewers in history. They found that regardless of gender or sexual orientation, pornographic searches for fat bodies significantly outnumbered searches for thin bodies. In fact, fat porn ranked 16th among the most popular categories, beating out categories such as “anal sex” (18), “group sex” (24), “fellatio” (28) and “skinny” (30).
They wrote that for every search for a “skinny” girl, there are about three searches for a “fat” girl.
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Despite being surrounded by women of all sizes, the audience decided to steer clear of the queer views of the world around them into safe, secret and one-sided experiences.
Although Ogas and Gaddam’s research only speaks to sexual desire (not attraction or romantic desire), it certainly shows that our cultural scripts around size and desire—that thin people are intrinsically desirable and fat people intrinsically undesirable—have roots. in perception rather than research. Results
Highlighting the idea that fat bodies can be among the most desirable, but that this desire can be suppressed, perhaps due to widespread stigma.
Many men who are attracted to fat women find ways to express this desire by shielding themselves from judgment and stigma, including secret sex with fat women, too afraid or loath to develop these encounters into full-fledged relationships. Virgie Tovar recounted examples of one of these relationships in Secret Relationships With Fat Women. “When we were alone, everything was intimate and magical, and then suddenly it happened
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