fatmeposts-blog

[fatmeposts-blog]

the thing about chairs...

Hello! 

One thing you should really know about me is that I’m fat. That’s not the only thing you should know, but it’s a big one (get it?). 

My weight isn’t important. My size isn’t important. 

Now you might be thinking that those things are important when it comes to thinking about “fat”, but they aren’t. Not to me at least. You see, what you need to be thinking about it how I feel in relation to things around me. My weight had no bearing on how well I fit through a row of chairs. And my size has no bearing on whether or that chair will break when I sit down on it. 

But lets take a closer look at this situation, because this is what fat feels like. So lets say I’m at a theater - a real theater, not a movie theater (come to think of it, a movie theater can work too, but lets stick with the other kind for the moment). So I’m at a theater. There are rows upon rows of seats. Normally, a few seats are already filled with people so you have to slide by them. They have the choice to get up or to bend their knees to move out of your way. You also have that option once you’re seated, but that’s getting ahead of ourselves. Finally, after going up all those damn stairs, elevators, escalators, you’re ushered to your row by a kind looking woman in her 60s. The first three seats are taken and yours are down the row a bit and in the middle. You’re early so there are a lot of seats still around you that are empty. Your friend (of course you have a friend, why are you going to be a theater alone?) is small and goes first. The people see her/him coming and just bend up their needs to let her/him slide on by. Once she/he has passed, their eyes move back down the row to the entrance where you stand. Your mentally thinking about accidentally being pushed over the edge of the balance as you pass by the people. But this time, upon sight of your beautiful rotund shape, they stand. The people in their seats who let your friend pass by with just bending their knees, get up out of their seats and stand as you come into view. You slide on by and take your seat. You might not even have noticed the difference since you were too concerned with not falling off the balcony to your death. But it happened. Such a subtle difference. And it’s not like you can blame the people for getting up. Indeed, you have to mentally thank them for giving you enough room so you didn’t accidentally step on their toes or something as your waddled by. But you felt their eyes on you and their hesitation of how to handle the situation, because yes, it was a situation. 

So you sit and wait for the concert or play or whatever start. And as you sit and the seats fill in around you. First, when you sit down, the chair feels…snug (it’s the nice word) against your hips. Maybe your hips and your legs. And with your friend sitting next to you, you realize that the arm space, though not restricted by the seat, is restricted by the people. Especially as most people fill in around you and there is now one person on either side of you. So your butt doesn’t fit and your arms cant relax, but you’ve paid good money to see with concert or play or whatever and now you realize that you’re going to be uncomfortable for the next two plus hours. And you finally find a position for your hips that’s not cutting into your legs too much. And you finally find a position for your arms where they aren’t encroaching on your neighbors and friends arm space. And now you have to keep that position for two plus hours. If you move or adjust, your going to bump into someone, somehow, and that will not be good, because you’re not supposed to take up this much space.

Now if you’re at a summer picnic or bonfire, there is another thing to consider. With size, it’s fitting into the chair. Or trying to find a chair that doesn’t have arms so you don’t have to worry about the fit so much. But then, most of those campfire chairs aren’t meant to sustain such a person as you. They’re made mostly of plastic and they fold up nice and tight so they fit in the back of the chair and in the side of the garage. So you’re looking around the circle of chairs and you find that all of the “good” ones - the ones that are framed with metal or wood, a nice sturdy material - are taken. That leaves you with either standing or sitting on the plastic foldout chair. You approach it like it’s your prey. It’s the only chair left and you have three other friends standing around and you want that chair, no matter how un-sturdy it might be. So you go for it and you reach it and it’s yours. But once you’ve claimed it, you don’t sit right away. Remember, this is a plastic chair and plastic chairs are worrisome. They’re worrisome because they might just buckle. So you place your handle on the back of the chair and whisper sweat nothings to it (mentally, of course, because you’re not crazy). You’re whisper that you’re feet are tired and your back is tired and you’d really like to just rest for a moment. Only a moment, please chair hold me and don’t break. So you’ve pleaded with it and tested it’s will power to hold you and finally you’re ready to take the plunge and sit down. So you slowly ease yourself onto it’s surface, testing again as you release some of your weight off your tired feet. And then…you sit. You let all of your weight release from your legs and feet and back and just sit. The chair is find. Well, it’s fine if you don’t move. If you wiggle just a bit, reach to slap a bug off your leg, the chair is surely going to collapse to the ground and you with it. Then all of your friends would see that you’ve broken the chair. So the entire time your body is resting, your mind if racing. Not only to keep up with the conversation, but to calculate the flimsy plastic chairs will to hold you up.

So you see, while “fat” isn’t about size or weight, it’s also about size and weight. But it’s more than that. It’s about how size and weight feel and how they affect a life. My life. 

Sincerely, 

Fat Me

[fatmeposts-blog]

the thing about chairs...

Hello! 

One thing you should really know about me is that I’m fat. That’s not the only thing you should know, but it’s a big one (get it?). 

My weight isn’t important. My size isn’t important. 

Now you might be thinking that those things are important when it comes to thinking about “fat”, but they aren’t. Not to me at least. You see, what you need to be thinking about it how I feel in relation to things around me. My weight had no bearing on how well I fit through a row of chairs. And my size has no bearing on whether or that chair will break when I sit down on it. 

But lets take a closer look at this situation, because this is what fat feels like. So lets say I’m at a theater - a real theater, not a movie theater (come to think of it, a movie theater can work too, but lets stick with the other kind for the moment). So I’m at a theater. There are rows upon rows of seats. Normally, a few seats are already filled with people so you have to slide by them. They have the choice to get up or to bend their knees to move out of your way. You also have that option once you’re seated, but that’s getting ahead of ourselves. Finally, after going up all those damn stairs, elevators, escalators, you���re ushered to your row by a kind looking woman in her 60s. The first three seats are taken and yours are down the row a bit and in the middle. You’re early so there are a lot of seats still around you that are empty. Your friend (of course you have a friend, why are you going to be a theater alone?) is small and goes first. The people see her/him coming and just bend up their needs to let her/him slide on by. Once she/he has passed, their eyes move back down the row to the entrance where you stand. Your mentally thinking about accidentally being pushed over the edge of the balance as you pass by the people. But this time, upon sight of your beautiful rotund shape, they stand. The people in their seats who let your friend pass by with just bending their knees, get up out of their seats and stand as you come into view. You slide on by and take your seat. You might not even have noticed the difference since you were too concerned with not falling off the balcony to your death. But it happened. Such a subtle difference. And it’s not like you can blame the people for getting up. Indeed, you have to mentally thank them for giving you enough room so you didn’t accidentally step on their toes or something as your waddled by. But you felt their eyes on you and their hesitation of how to handle the situation, because yes, it was a situation. 

So you sit and wait for the concert or play or whatever start. And as you sit and the seats fill in around you. First, when you sit down, the chair feels…snug (it’s the nice word) against your hips. Maybe your hips and your legs. And with your friend sitting next to you, you realize that the arm space, though not restricted by the seat, is restricted by the people. Especially as most people fill in around you and there is now one person on either side of you. So your butt doesn’t fit and your arms cant relax, but you’ve paid good money to see with concert or play or whatever and now you realize that you’re going to be uncomfortable for the next two plus hours. And you finally find a position for your hips that’s not cutting into your legs too much. And you finally find a position for your arms where they aren’t encroaching on your neighbors and friends arm space. And now you have to keep that position for two plus hours. If you move or adjust, your going to bump into someone, somehow, and that will not be good, because you’re not supposed to take up this much space.

Now if you’re at a summer picnic or bonfire, there is another thing to consider. With size, it’s fitting into the chair. Or trying to find a chair that doesn’t have arms so you don’t have to worry about the fit so much. But then, most of those campfire chairs aren’t meant to sustain such a person as you. They’re made mostly of plastic and they fold up nice and tight so they fit in the back of the chair and in the side of the garage. So you’re looking around the circle of chairs and you find that all of the “good” ones - the ones that are framed with metal or wood, a nice sturdy material - are taken. That leaves you with either standing or sitting on the plastic foldout chair. You approach it like it’s your prey. It’s the only chair left and you have three other friends standing around and you want that chair, no matter how un-sturdy it might be. So you go for it and you reach it and it’s yours. But once you’ve claimed it, you don’t sit right away. Remember, this is a plastic chair and plastic chairs are worrisome. They’re worrisome because they might just buckle. So you place your handle on the back of the chair and whisper sweat nothings to it (mentally, of course, because you’re not crazy). You’re whisper that you’re feet are tired and your back is tired and you’d really like to just rest for a moment. Only a moment, please chair hold me and don’t break. So you’ve pleaded with it and tested it’s will power to hold you and finally you’re ready to take the plunge and sit down. So you slowly ease yourself onto it’s surface, testing again as you release some of your weight off your tired feet. And then…you sit. You let all of your weight release from your legs and feet and back and just sit. The chair is find. Well, it’s fine if you don’t move. If you wiggle just a bit, reach to slap a bug off your leg, the chair is surely going to collapse to the ground and you with it. Then all of your friends would see that you’ve broken the chair. So the entire time your body is resting, your mind if racing. Not only to keep up with the conversation, but to calculate the flimsy plastic chairs will to hold you up.

So you see, while “fat” isn’t about size or weight, it’s also about size and weight. But it’s more than that. It’s about how size and weight feel and how they affect a life. My life. 

Sincerely, 

Fat Me