Sunday, November 22, 2009

Where I Get TMI On Your Asses Strikes Back.

A while ago - hell, well over a year ago - I spoke candidly about my mindset at that time, the loneliness and downright bafflement I felt as a fat woman at my inability to find someone who would love me back, my anger at my feelings of isolation from my friends because I wasn’t able to add to discussions of relationships or intimacy or what have you. Since then, some things have changed. And by gum, I’m going to TMI on your asses yet again – well, to an extent.



You might want to get a cocktail because chances are good sister’s gonna ramble for a little bit and it’ll take me a while to make a point, per usual. I may give you a miss and have absolutely no point at all, but I’m having one of those “Vomit Out Thoughts Sundays” and it’s been a long time coming. Hey, you know that sex thing is a pretty fine thing. Yes, I finally jumped that particular shark and engaged in frank adult behavior with another consenting adult, and it was quite a delightful experience. I’m going to do my darnedest not to get into the gories, but I want to speak on it for a moment from the “holy shit, what if he/she is horrified by my fat ass/belly/thighs/etc.” angle. I would say that one of the Fantasies of Being Thin (tm Kate Harding) for me was that once I was thin and luscious and muscular and buff that I would rampage through the countryside, bedding men near and far, but NOT until I was that thin/luscious/muscular/bufferton. It was nigh impossible for me to believe with any conviction that I could conjure up wood. I believed me and my carcass to be a boner killer of the highest regard or, at the very least, said boner owner (that is SO fun to say) would have to be exceedingly high or wickedly drunk in order to produce in my presence.

Was I ever wrong. Also, I was always rather panicked that if the opportunity presented itself that I would be so wrapped up in how I looked or how he thought I looked that I wouldn’t be able to enjoy myself in the least. The first time I was in a naked state in front of someone that wasn’t a medical professional, I stopped mentally comparing myself to all the thin women whose bodies I coveted and my body was just...my body. And it – me, I, we, WOW, HEY - was doing some really awesome shit. Since digging in and enveloping myself in fat acceptance, my relationship with my body has become a downright lovefest compared to life pre-FA, but even after digesting and repeating and believing all the good stuff about being a worthwhile, decent person who happens to be fat, the little voice that says “shyeah, whatever” still has a voice, as we all know. The little voice wanted to interrupt and whisper in my ear, “ewwwww, aren’t you a horror”. Luckily, the “WOW HEY NEAT!” voice was waaaay louder.

Despite being a fully-growed adult woman, I still have days where I think about...things, and I’m stunned it happened. I spent so many years – SERIOUSLY SO. MANY. YEARS. – thinking about why and what I was doing wrong and what I was supposed to do to fix it and why it wasn’t working when I would try to fix it, whatever in the hell “it” was – that the “holy CRAP *astonished face*” has yet to go away. I mean, I do try to be somewhat cool...but it doesn’t always work. Allowing myself to finally believe that goddammit, I am someone’s cup of tea was incredibly freeing and, strangely enough, made me realize that I will be absolutely okay and fine and happy if I’m never someone’s cup of tea ever again. And I would have been okay and fine and happy if I’d never been a cup of tea. Of course, saying that is easy, as I *was* a darn fine cup of tea.

Yeah, I know, I don’t know what the hell I’m trying to say, either. Anyhoo. The love part? Well, that’s a bit more complicated. I’ve spent some time analyzing the men I have loved (or tried to, at any rate) and my particular “style” of loving, if you will, is to love AT those I want to love me back. I’m very much a “look at me, look at me, look at how awesome I am!!!!” kind of woman. I both show and tell, shall we say. I overcompensate for my imagined flaws with material things and epic dissertations as to why I love who I love. I try to love my intendeds into submission, basically. I think my brain believes that if I wear my target out, he’ll have no other option but to love me back. Hell, when I was a little girl, I would chase the boys around the playground, tackle them, and then kiss them. The game was called “Kissing Monster”. Finally, a teacher named Mr. Rossi had to hold me back and explain to me, “Boys don’t like it when you kiss them”. Oh, you prescient man.

Despite being in a bit of a limbo at present, my mind is so much quieter these days. The work I have been doing on my mind and my self has been difficult and I do still have a goodly cry when the mood strikes, but there is much more peace in my head and in my heart – and not just because I had me some intercoursage. It is a hard-won peace. I’m sure I have more battles ahead, but at least one – the one with myself that raged for years and years – has come to a close.

7 comments:

Mommy2Joe said...

*applause*

It always amazes me how the parts of my body that make me cringe my husband sees in a totally different way. He sees beauty and lust and sexy sexy, while I'm all fat roll and dimples. So glad we worked through that because, by gum, I love the Business Time.

And I absolutely love how you described 'loving at' someone. Makes so much sense to me.

Anywho, loved the post.

Jennifer Brindley said...

My favorite entry of yours yet. I too am guilty of the loving into submission technique.

<3 Love your writing.

~Jenn (Ex Hot Girl)

Anonymous said...

*High fives*

Time to start tearing down the rest of that horrible wall that others build for us, confining us into their narrow expectations of who we can be and what we are worth.

You just knocked out the cornerstone baby :-)

Blue said...

Yeah!! You go, girl. :) I'm glad to hear you got some of that sweet, sweet lovin.

However, I really hope you continue to champion the cause of, and provide advice to, people who may be involuntarily celibate their entire lives. More than most people on the fatosphere, you seem to be able to relate to some of use who might not be just waiting for someone to discover us, and feel pretty upset about it.

I really feel like your writings have some great insights about that. The fatosphere, as great as it is, often doesn't really address the needs of the involuntarily celibate. Many people, with the best of intentions, maintain that love is not as far off as one may think, but for some people, it very well may be. And it's sad, but I also think that, if more of those people came forward and organized, we could offer a lot of guidance, support, and solidarity to each other. So I hope your blog will continue to reach out to those people, and provide them with a sense of peace, hope, and optimism for the future. Thanks for all your efforts.

Jane said...

I'll do my best, Blue. While certain things may have changed in my personal life here and there, my memory is reaaaaaaaaaaally fucking long, trust me. Thank you for reading and I hope that I can keep doing right (as best as I can) by folks. :)

Potterchik said...

"Love at."
Love it, and understand it. For years I tried to will men to love me. I thought if they just knew how much I felt, they'd have to respond.
They didn't.
So glad good stuff is happening for you.

Anonymous said...

I very much agree with Blue. There's some heavy duty partnered privilege on some of the other fatosphere sites. The authors seem to forget what it's like to NOT have found one of those wonderful fat-loving partners we're told are just waiting out there for us. I, too, can relate more to your anger about this side of our lives than I can with some of the other sites. So, thank you for being brave and putting your emotions out there.

I'm also very glad you got some! Whoo hoo! :-) I also lost my virginity VERY late in life, and it was such a relief just to have experienced sex. To know that if I die tomorrow at least now I know what everyone was talking about. And of course that the experience was a good one was the icing on the cake! (mmm... cake... you know we fatties like the cake.) So I'm very, very glad that you got to have that experience too, and that it was positive for you.