Confessions of a Fat A**

Okay so this post is me being pretty vulnerable.  This part of the journey is hard for me – admitting how much different from the regular population I am sucks, but here we go.  Some of the things that suck about being a fat person are evident (not getting as much attention from the opposite sex or getting the under-their-breath jokes from the teenage punks as you walk by), yet others are not so much. 

The blogger I like to follow – www.theworldaccordingtoeggface.com – says that on her refrigerator she has a before and after picture from weight loss and then has a list of things that she hated about being fat.  I think that’s a great idea.  I think I will print today’s blog entry and leave it up there.

I bet that some of you never knew that when I walk into a restaurant I secretly say a prayer that the hostess won’t try to sit us in a booth.  I bet that some of you never knew that some airplanes require that you buy two seats on a plane if you are so many inches wide.  I bet that some of you never thought about the fact that I sit like a man most of the time because it is impossible for me to cross my legs and look like a lady.

I hate not being able to paint my toenails or shave my legs without getting into some weird body contortion.  I hate not being able to buy matching underwear and bras.  I hate not four-wheeling or boating in case there is a weight limit.  I hate amusement parks, ball parks, concerts, and even movie seats.  I hate shopping.  I hate that on a night out I have to take out a small loan to have a good time.  I hate not being able to buckle my seatbelt – DING DING DING.  I hate that when I go to a concert or participate in some sort of charity/work I can't fit into the event t-shirts.  I hate having my picture taken, because normally they stick me on the end or hanging off to the side where my size is so apparent.  I hate that best friends of mine have gotten married and not even been able to consider me as a bridesmaid.  I hate school desks, I got lucky as I was finishing my degree at Western as they had detached chairs in most of the classrooms, but those damn connected chairs were horribly embarrassing.  Once you squeezed yourself in, it was extremely uncomfortable and then getting out was even worse.  I hate that I am in the processing of buying a new house, with an incredibly cool attic (apparently) and I haven’t been able to see it.  Those ladders that are attached by some screws are no match for my ass.  Erin 0 Ladder 1. 

I am paranoid in crowds, I call it my “Social Anxiety” but if you know me, you know that doesn’t really explain it well.  I would talk to anything, and I am really good at making other’s comfortable.  But in this world, a lot of people judge first, get to know later.  One of the reasons for my self-confidence is because the people who know me love me.  But when I enter into a crowded bar, arena, or concert – those people don’t know me.  The only thing they know about me is that I am big.  If you take that knowledge and add in a crowd and most of the time alcohol – the results are unkind words and looks that could kill. I always tell my friend’s that a crowded bar is a fat person’s worst nightmare – let’s face it I don’t squish well.  It is hard trying to maneuver.  Whenever I find myself out at a place like that I really like to just post up and let the people who want to see me make their way to me. 

So now you know a little bit more of why it SUCKS to be fat.