Why This Fat Ass Wrote Herself a Sex Scene
When I was 15-years-old I saw an amish man suck on a plus-sized Sara Rue’s breasts like they contained the answer to life, the universe, and everything. The movie, Gypsy 83, would later go on to be a cult indie classic, but in that moment it introduced something into my life I didn’t know I was missing.
I had never seen a fat body being enjoyed the way thin women were in media. In fact, the only place I saw anything like that was in my own life with my own partners. Never on screen.
Flash to May of 2016 —
My co-star, Alex Loynaz, and I were lying on our producer’s bed fully clothed… not touching... sometimes speaking…looking up at the ceiling. I can’t remember what we were talking about. Probably old movies.
What we definitely didn’t talk about was that in a few minutes we would be lying on this same bed in our underwear making out in front of two other people and a camera.
Season Two of The Fat One, a rom-com between a chubby girl and herself, was aching for a sex scene. Kate was in a real relationship for the first time, and a big part of her story Season One was that she hadn’t had sex in 7 years. This part of Kate’s story is pulled directly from my real life.
Between my first and second male sexual partners there happened to be a lot of time. Not for any lack of opportunity or interest. Timing just never seemed to work out, and then, after a few years passed, the buildup to having penetrative sex again felt scary. Felt like it should mean something.
I would love to say the reason I didn’t have sex was because I was ashamed of my body and I met someone who made me feel great and everything was kitten and rainbows, but here’s the deal:
Sometimes fat people have issues that have nothing to do with their fatness.
I didn’t have sex for 7 years because I like sex a lot, and as a woman in society shame and fear can come with that.
Shame that you should only want to have sex with someone who can fulfill your needs emotionally, and fear that you’ll like it so much you’ll do it with *gasp*more than one person. So I waited. And you know what?
There were pluses and minuses like every other choice.
7 years went by and I had sex again. It was good. It didn’t blow my mind. It didn’t lead to me meeting the love of my life, but I was emotionally ready to get what I wanted from that experience. For that reason: perfection.
I’m not interested in ambivalence in my sex life. I exclusively sleep with people who are excited about sleeping with me, and vice versa. Hell yeses all the way around, but I know so many fat women and men have had a different experience. They’ve had experiences where they think they must apologize for our roundness.
So, as I sat down to write episode 204 — “Not Having Sex” — that weight was on my shoulders.
Look — I’ll never be above a good pun.
I was determined to show my 15-year-old self an image she so rarely got to see on screen: Her fat body unapologetically loved. Nothing fetishized, but true enjoyment. A crystal ball image of her past and future.
Not only was I putting down images that would make me feel sexy, but I penned a few I was afraid to show. Belly worship, big girl on top, bra on sex. All of these made me feel nervous for different reasons. What was the balance of telling a story about loving my body and also being honest about my insecurities?
The only answer was to put it all.
The day of filming was joyous. Our director, Morgan Dameron, closed the set to four people total, and just let Alex and I laugh a bunch. Like really, we laughed way too much. There’s at least 30 minutes worth of material we cannot use because we were laughing so hard.
It was the most intimate thing I’d ever done on screen. Simulating sex being the smallest part.
Afterwards, a lot of people told me I was brave. I don’t think I’m brave. I think I’m impatient.
I don’t have any sort of long term stamina to wait for other people to see me the way I see myself.
To be clear, I see myself as sexy, as flawed, as curious, as full of love and anger and uncertainty as the next person.
And I want you to see that in me too.
