l — bootstrap your way out or die out, I was never one of you.” I want to make it a better, healthier place—not spend all my time talking about how shitty it is and how anyone who would choose to live there deserves it…ust moving out and saying “fuck y’all — bootstrap your way out or die out, I was never one of you.” I want to make it a better, healthier place—not spend all my time talking about how shitty it is and how anyone who would choose to live there deserves it. And to me that means considering them with charity, even when they make it difficult to.
…ut they ask me to dress differently because it’s the easiest way to tell the world that same thing. But if my skin and my outfit won’t placate you, I want desperately to know what will before “get some nice clothes” turns from being code for “we love you” to being funeral instructions.
…e, feel them steering away from the dark parts. They all meant well and were trying their best, but there is nothing more lonely than to have someone look at your pain and, intentionally or not, turn away. Those moments when people stayed there with me, when they asked me questions about her, about how i…
In that way, air travel is sadly familiar, a microcosm of what happens so often as a fat person. I am watched — and judged harshly — as I try — and fail — to fit into a space that was made for someone else. I am always too big, always too much, always unacceptable. I must make myself smaller and smaller, reducing and reducing endlessly, my stubborn body resisting at every turn. Still, I am never quite small enough to make anyone else comfortable.