T for Trigger, Trolls and Treats!

I cannot believe it’s only been two weeks since I wrote the last blog. It has felt like forever and has involved several triggers that made old wounds ache.

The one trigger that surprised me was my reaction to trolls on our fatsopodcast handle on Instagram. We have this reel which is doing quite well! And while there are some lovely messages, there are also some really nasty ones. And every single one of the nasties got me. Ouch. I can still feel the soreness in my solar plexus and a prickling behind my eyes. Now, this isn’t the first time we got trolled — remember the Brut video? Our friends called us in horror at the comments and I was like, meh. But this time, pow pow, I do not seem to have my armour on.

And that’s just how it is.

It doesn’t matter how much I believe in myself, my lifestyle and my work. When another human being looks at something that I’ve put my heart into and assumes I am irresponsible, lazy, stupid and so on — it feels bad. It doesn’t matter that I care nothing for their approval — it’s just a hurtful thing to have thrown at me. Simple. And that for me was an important thing to understand, that fat liberation is a work in progress. If I want to fight this fight, I need to learn how to go without armour sometimes, be caught by surprise and bleed if it comes to that. And yet know that I will heal, the scars will be beautiful and I will live another day to say #losehatenotweight and #allbodiesaregoodbodies and #healthateverysize .

The other thing that happened is, unlike our usual policy of ignore them, warn them, block them — I engaged with them. And thank god for Ameya who lets me do these nonsense things (I know better) and just holds space for me till I’m done.

The interesting thing I noticed is that, without exception, these are all people who are “struggling with weight” themselves. And they defend their hope of having a better life once they “crack thinness” by attacking those who have a good life irrespective. Their argument is this prediction — that not only are we going to drop dead, but so will all the people we have “misled” into “following us”, smh. First, I want to know the source and brand of the crystal ball they’re gazing into. Second, I would like them to know that if I had such hypnotic powers I would get people to do other fun stuff for me — you know money, sex, power — the usual :P

The weird thing is that their motive for being horrid hurts more — I know that pain, I have been that person and I experienced living hell, every day! Where nothing gave me real joy because I wasn’t in the body I wanted to be in. Where I could not trust anyone who said they loved me or were attracted to me, because I felt I was hideous. Where no hard work was enough because being a fat person made me a blight on the world — “dharti pe bojh”* as one troll put it. Where my thoughts were constantly sabotaged by the thought of food and taking time out to exercise, calories in, calories out. Feeling virtuous one minute and descending into a spiral of craving and exhaustion the next.

I know how agonising it is to put my life on hold for the day I feel worthy in my body. One that stubbornly won’t conform to what I want, irrespective of whether I starve it or work it till it hurts or worse is injured. I know how debilitating it is to be told that if I do A,B and C I will get to where I want, and then having the body and mind fight back till I lose not just the battle but also hope. Worse still, I know how it is to actually get the weight off, feel delighted about it only to then put it back on and more, even though I continue to starve and push as I was earlier. And then I know what it takes to feel that battered and still get up to try again — in an endless horror loop.

And here are kindred souls who continue to suffer, doggedly holding on to the fat phobia they have been conditioned with and aiming their rage and despair at anyone who would counsel otherwise.

I feel frightened when I see such dogma. It’s like holding on to a life raft and refusing to open their eyes to see they never left the shore in the first place. I detest what society has done to us. The more I research and understand fat phobia the more I realise it is a steady and systemic alienation of people from people by using our most trusted sense organ — our eyes, our sight — against us. And it frightens me because there is no greater imprisonment (to me), than being closed to a different perspective, a different opinion, a different point of view. There can be no hope for acceptance or peace or community when rejection runs so deep. Our eyes are open, but we are all blind :(

I run out of words to express the depth of my sorrow and rage at this terribly, terribly broken world we live in. And yet my brain is wired for optimism and I do believe a different world is possible.** And so I am allowing myself to soak in my pain triggers, feel the frustration and channel it to make an even better, louder, more fa(t)ulous contribution, because, as every Queen says — I want World Peace (and domination, heh, jk ;))

PS — in the midst of all this I celebrated my 42nd birthday, Meya made a delicious lemon and yoghurt cake, we drank good booze and ate good food. And I spent the whole day thanking lots and lots of people and receiving lots and lots of love. Which as you can imagine totally cheered me up and filled me with the reserves to deal with my shit! Yay!

*dharti pe bojh = a burden on the planet

**As I have been saying lately, I feel wonderful being a super spreader of the optimism contagion — come get infected, y’all! Hee!