Body Terrorism isn’t real?

Body terrorism isn’t real and no one wants fat people to kill themselves.…

Except, those 2 statements are ignorant and factually incorrect. When society tolerates large parts of itself plus the media shaming, hazing, discriminating against, and ridiculing overweight people, that society is hardly any more advanced than one that arrests women for not covering their hair. Fat people, women especially, are being terrorized all their lives and smugly expected to hate themselves. Sometimes this terrorism is thinly veiled in “health concerns” not shown in similar harassing fashions to smokers and other way less healthy people, meaning it’s really just a fib as nobody can possibly be sincerely concerned with a stranger’s weight-related health if not with a smoker’s or an alcoholic’s – plus, concern isn’t voiced by ridicule and unsolicited, demoralizing commentary.
Unlike Iranian women who uncover their hair, fat women in the West may not be legally prosecuted or punished, but they are beaten and bullied as children, and shamed and ridiculed as adults, if not personally, then by blanket fat hate, and little is done about it other than victim-blaming: “So just stop being fat” or, while kinda hard to convince an impressionable child it’s possible to be lovable when everyone is violently hating you, “Nobody ever gonna love you if you don’t love yourself”, which is nonsense, because you can love yourself all you want and still be brutalized and no child sets out hating herself – self-hate is conditioned, not inherent. I don’t know of any fat girl/child who hated herself for being fat before getting repeatedly and meticulously bullied for it. Plus, me hating myself entitles no one else to attack me in any form or fashion.

Fat hate, and (mostly women’s) fear of fatness, is a huge contributing factor to body image issues, eating disorders, and depression leading to suicide. But since the hate continues and is tolerated in school, in professional settings, while shopping, pretty much everywhere and accepted as a thing of daily life, there isn’t much a fat person can do other than suffer to lose weight in order to stop suffering from being dehumanized by society (and usually failing, while not owing anyone thinness to begin with and being an equal, worthy human being at 500 lbs as much as at 80). And failing that, many kill themselves, and nothing changes, meaning society accepts it. Just look at the internet’s response to suicides. Pretty thin girl: poor thing, so young, so pretty, why? Fat person? Lots of victim blaming and posthumous belittling and diminishing the cruelty the person suffered leading up to the suicide. Shouldn’t have been so fat then. Fatty got their giant butt hurt. If the fat person’s suicide gets any attention at all.

Hand these cards to people of color, disabled people, anorexic or mentally ill people, the world would be up in arms. But since it’s “just” fat people who have no right to respect and dignity, as confirmed by entertainment media who mostly cast us as a source of comic relief or villainy, we’ll just have to torture ourselves to lose weight in order to be treated like equal human beings, right?



You’re ugly.

And that’s cool.

I was just thinking… The radical bodylove/self-acceptance movement has my full support and it’s helped me a lot. But a recurring phrase used within the movement is “Everyone/Every body is beautiful”. Every size, every shape, every color, etc.

Isn’t this where the whole issue of body discrimination and self-hate starts? At the feeling that we must be beautiful in order to love ourselves or hope to be loved? And while beauty is partially in the eye of the beholder, shouldn’t we be honest and admit that there are traits that a majority agree to be less-than-pretty?

So how about we drop the entire drive for beauty? How about we stop trying to feel better about ourselves by insisting on beauty, whether it’s by seeing beauty in our current state, or working to achieve it through change? How about we adopt the attitude that everyone is an equally respectable and worthy and lovable human being no matter what they look like – and not feeling obligated to either be (considered) beautiful, or tell people that they are?

When you try to make someone feel better by telling them they’re beautiful, isn’t that a bit like telling someone they’re not fat in order to comfort them? Aren’t both examples implying that unless you look pleasant (in terms of standards and majority opinions), you don’t get to feel good about yourself? Aren’t both, denying fatness and denying ugliness, implying that these traits are something horrible to have?

Why do we need to be beautiful in order to feel good about ourselves? Why can’t an ugly person be overtly and “awarely” ugly, and still feel good about themselves? What do we owe anyone beauty for? What would we owe ourselves beauty for? Golda Meir was one ugly motherfucker but while I don’t like her politics, she was successful and loved like fuck. Albert Einstein was one ugly potato head, so what. He was a genius.

Fuck beauty.

Thanks, Doc.

Yesterday I went home from the doctor’s with a wide smile on my face and a feeling of accomplished world conquest in my chest. This doctor’s visit was well worth its 20 Shekels and the 30 minute walk because apparently, the practice was not “just next to the mall” after all.

I went to see endocrinologist Dr. B. because I was starting to suspect my thyroid to be behind my body’s refusal to shed those pounds. Thanks to radical self acceptance activists’ sites like The Militant Baker or The Body is not an Apology, and the realization that all women, no matter what their weight, are raised to feel some kind of insecurity, I had already not just made peace with, but learned to love my body. Which changed not only my perception of my body, but of everything around it, too.
But I still want to know why I had to miss out on everything for hating my body for so long. Just ,why. After all, a gastric bypass did nothing, atkins combined with extreme gym-hitting and daily hours of swimming did nothing, a month-long attempt at pro-ana did nothing, nothing did anything. I only lose weight when I’m not even trying to, and shoveling McDonald’s, Snickers, and coke for lack of time to cook. Yet my body has, for the last 12 years or more, kept returning to the same weight over and over. So, why?
After I’d ordered eltroxin off eBay to see how my thyroid responds, and finding that I lost a bit of weight and felt better overall, I took these findings and my questions to Dr. B. A doctor who is among the rare gems of doctors who don’t dump all of your health problems on your weight, or dismiss them to tell you to get skinny instead. Because that attitude is an atrocity. “Doc, I have mood swings and suicidal thoughts that terrify me.” – “Yeah but first, here’s a referral to a dietitian.”… “I can’t turn my neck without excrucia–” – “What have you tried in terms of weightloss?”… “Doctor, please check my pelvis and hormones, I’m just not getting pregnant.” – “Lose the weight and you will.”… “Doctor, I suffer from migraine and falling asleep uncontrollably.” – “Yes, and here’s the card of a dietitian so we can make you look a little more appetizing.” (the latter were the exact words of the school doctor, a woman no less, when I was 14, and I think her head needs to roll for crushing what little self-love is left in an insecure fat teenage girl, with her choice of words).

Dr. B however, took a good look at my blood work, my med history, and at me, and said: “Nope, your thyroid is normal.” After several questions, answers, and theories, Dr. B said what all those “I bash fatties because they’re unhealthy” people out there should let sink in deep:

“Though, look. I’ve seen your bloodwork and your medical history. I’m looking at you. You’re not at any risk, your stats are good. You are what’s called healthy obese. You don’t need to lose weight.”

Oh yes.

My Ass on the Bus

May 20 has been one of those days where the same unlikely-to-repeat-itself thing just keeps happening to you. I remember that one day where I had meetings with 5 people all of whom had the same name.

Today, it was less funny. I know I’m fat, nobody needs to point it out, and I no longer feel bad about being fat, so I’m rather unapologetic about it. I know I take up a bit more space than others, but not so much that you can’t fit in next to me.

So I’m sitting on the bus on my way to the employment office, on the window seat of a 2 seat row. A middle-aged to elderly (59 to 65?) woman, tall, upright, and strong-looking, sits down next to me, and, mumbling plaintively, got up a few times to adjust her ass in the seat. She then cranked at me in Russian what I can only guess is her asking me to shift my ass so she can sit comfortably. Now listen here. I may take up a bit more than 1 seat, but not too much for another person to sit next to me. I never got any complaints before, and I used to be much wider. I refused to make myself even smaller. Angrily, she sat down elsewhere, which she could have done earlier, without re-ascerting that my ass is too big for her to sit comfortably, and without calling me out on it all indignantly, as if it were my ass’s life mission to ruin her ride. I woslike, “What??? It’s not like I can lose 20 kilos right here right now so you can sit comfortably! Moron…”

Mind you – I sat there first, it was not a reserved/elderly/handicapped seat, and there were other vacant seats, so all she did, was humiliate me for no good reason.

I sighed, curled my lips in a silent snarl, and faded the event from my mind, when another elderly person, a chubby short man this time, refreshed it and did the exact same thing. Sat down next to me, complained my ass is too big, and continued grumping loudly. I woslike, “Dafuq dude, why is everyone talking to me in Russian about how my fat ass is in their way? Are you all blind? Do you look where you sit your ass down? Did you not see there was a fat chick sitting here?” and he shut up, but remained where he was. I added, “And why the fuck is everyone speaking Russian to me as if Russia is the only country with white chicks? I did a ginger Arab once!!” because this has been annoying me for a long time. We’re in Israel. Speak Hebrew to me. Assume I do not speak any other language. Try something local like Arabic, or universal like English, but don’t talk to me in a language I see no reason to heave learned.

Actually, this has happened to me more lately. My ass is shrinking, yet the number of people yelling at me for my ass being in their way on the bus, is growing. I don’t get why they do it. I can’t shrink on the spot to make room for them. As the one to have paid and sat there first, I also cannot get up and stand for the rest of the ride. What the hell?

Here’s where the whole “respect your elders” thing comes in. Why? Is getting old an achievement worthy of my respect any more than succeeding at a career or making babies or training your dog well? All it takes to get old, is to not die. I know at your age you have probably seen and done things – but so have I at my age. A lot more than many 100-year-olds. I respect my elders, as I respect everyone else – according to how they behave. If you’re gonna be both my elder and an asshole, I will treat you like an asshole. If you’re 10, and you treat me respectfully, I will respect you back. Age is bullshit.

To Guy Nr. 5,000,000

No, you didn’t deeply hurt my delicate feelings. But you did strike a nerve. My “Come the fuck on, not that again”-nerve.

So on one dating site, the one where you can communicate without paying, I met a guy who seemed nice enough, also handsome, and apparently, interested. Contact died down for a few days, which was okay because I’m in the middle of a 1-girl-move where I’m mostly busy and exhausted hauling my possessions from one place to another by bus.
I do so in spite of there being some 30 extra kilos on my hips weighing me down. I do so in spite of having less stamina than fit (not: slim) people. I do so because I’ve always been pretty much on my own and learned not to rely on others too much. Now, as per social experiments conducted with consideration for the repeatability factor, had I been a slim, delicate-looking, petite little creature, passers-by would have volunteered to help every step of the way as they saw me with a table in my hands, a backpack on my back, and a shopping cart strapped over my shoulder. But I’m fat. So somehow, according to the public’s strange attitude, I don’t qualify for help. Finally, the neighbor’s gentleman kid offered to take my trolley up the stairs, but I could do that last bit on my own. Too.

Now this guy, after a few days of radio silence, writes back. I’m thinking I’m gonna propose a date that somehow includes my possessions in his car/on his back. Well, long story short, no. I think he wants to sell me Herbalife. And the next criminal trying to leech money off me with that disgusting poison, I swear to God, I will make them watch while I barbecue their children and eat them while they’re still screaming. Because I like to eat quality food. I am a foodie. A gourmet. I don’t eat much, but when I do, it needs to rock.
He basically tells me that he had not paid much attention to what I had entered in the basic info of my profile: I’m full-figured. So now it came to his attention, and he decided to bring it to mine. Because I care so much that he is put off by my being fat. Oh wait, I don’t. What I do care about, is that this is a symptom of the cancer in our societies. We are brainwashed into thinking that “fat” is the worst a woman can be. An ugly face? Fine. A stupid, loud mouth? Fine. Unfaithful? Fine. A gold-digging whore who marries so she doesn’t have to earn her own money? Fine. Fat? “Now listen, I would like you if…”.

Because, now he tells me that if I lost some weight, I’d look a lot better. And I’m sure that’s true. But (1), I’m fine. But (2), then he’s like, “You can easily…”. No. I can not “easily”, I tried, and under doctors’ supervision did everything right, and still only lost 10% of what other people lost on the same programs (plural), so shut the fuck up. If everyone “could easily” lose weight, I doubt a whole lot of people would choose to stay fat and get so much hate and disrespect from society. It’s like being gay. The proof that being gay isn’t a choice, lies in the fact that nobody in their right mind would choose to be gay in such a hateful, homophobic environment.

First of all, while not very photogenic, I look good enough. I have what’s called an hour-glass shape, and let’s not get started on my face. But it doesn’t even matter. Because this body, is mine. Even if I got married and had children, it’d still be mine. I don’t owe anyone to look a way they like, not even my husband. Which this guy, just like the 4,999,999 others telling me to lose weight, is not.  I don’t buy that beauty/ugliness is on the inside. I do know looks matter. However, there is no one right way to look. I have seen many fat girls who looked better than many slim girls, and vice-versa. One person likes this, the other person likes that. This is what made me realize, when it comes to apearance, it’s okay to be fat and even a little insecure about it – because most girls are insecure to an extent. Even the prettiest model will pull the sheets over herself in the presence of the guy she just had sex with. We are taught insecurity. We are taught to obsess about our looks, and guys are taught to pick a woman by how presentable she looks to his dumb friends. Because men, too, are taught insecurity: “Is my girlfriend hot enough, or will the bros tease me?”. Who cares as long as you enjoy boning her? I know my weight is one factor in why I’m still single. On the other hand, it is by far not the only one. I’ve seen women, fatter than myself, getting married to handsome, smart, “quality” men.

I have been hit on by many men who are shorter than me, or bald. These are two things I simply am not attracted to at all. And that’s just as okay as someone not being attracted to fat chicks. However, it would never, ever, occur to me to tell them: “Yeah, I’ll give you a try, but only if you get leg extension surgery/hair implants”. Unless they dare tell me do something about the weight.
Because let’s face it. Men complaining that I’m fat, aren’t worried about my health, but about how my appearance graces them. And actually, the leg extension or the implants may just be less tortorous than losing a significant amount of weight. All you have to do, is lie down with the doctor and pay. then recover, and you’re all set. Weightloss is so much more difficult, and so much less pleasant. Weightloss is suffering. It’s exhausting, it’s depriving, it’s no fun to be obsessing all day about the question: if I do this or eat that, how will this affect my ass? It’s an oxymoron. They tell you to be slim in order to be happy, but how does obsessing and depriving and exhausting yourself over your weight, make you happy?

Hence, no. I will not give that bald dude or that short guy a chance, because he, just like I, deserves to be accepted the way he is, or left alone to remain free to find a true match, not a “Painfully change what you’ve been all your life until I came along and didn’t like it”-match. I will tell him I’m not interested, if I tell him anything, and let him move on. This is the only right way to handle someone whose exterior doesn’t appeal to you. For clarity: telling someone to change, is the wrong way. I am healthy, I am beautiful, I get laid, and I refuse to sacrifice any more of my precious life to suffering from one desperate weightloss attempt to another.
This guy used the term “ideal weight”. What is that? Who determines that? Mr. BMI? I’m sorry, I thought a person should have more authority than a math scheme. My life will not be controlled by numbers, not the numbers the BMI-God throws at me, not the numbers I see when I step on the scale, and not the numbers of inches a man is shorter than me, because I care about none of them. I did for most of my life, and I realize now, painfully, how much I missed out, not by being fat, but by behaving the way society tells fat people to behave: “hide, and don’t have fun because a fat chick dancing isn’t a pretty sight”. I have near-literally tried everything. Restrictive diets, pro-ana diets, diet products, the Herbalife scam, diet pills, hours of exercise and swimming, the adjustable gastric band (which helped me lose 50 kilos, then the weight stagnated on the same mark give or take 15 kilos exactly, strangely), and then, the biggest mistake of them all, the gastric bypass. And when I think about it, I already eat less, and healthier, than many of my slimmer friends. It’s probably not a nutrition issue at all. So stop preaching at me that I could “easily lose” a few more pounds. I can not. And if I could, I would still not suffer to do so. I’ll be happy to lose some weight through activities I enjoy, but will I force myself to skip that dessert or to walk myself dizzy on that treadmill? Hell no. I am done suffering, and he who wants me to suffer so I’m more pleasing to look at to others, does not love me and has as little a place in my life as his opinion has worth. My life has been about suffering and trying twice as hard to get half as much, for too long. No more.

Honestly? Fuck every last one of you, no matter who you are. I’m sure you’re good people with good intentions, but shut up. If my big butt means more to you than any of my other qualities and flaws – and I have “bigger” flaws than my ass if you were to look past that – then I guess I – *I* – mean less to you than my weight does. And that is not a relationship I wish to entertain. I’m fat. I will probably always be fat. And that is okay. My weight is one of many things that partially define me. My weight is not the main, nor the only thing, that defines me. Just as your lack of a chin, your receding hairline, or your short penis, doesn’t define you.

Here’s how to handle a potential date whose appearance has a flaw: take it or leave it.


Open Letter to Joan Rivers

Dear Mrs. Rivers,

having read this article:

I can’t not respond. First of all, after all the cosmetic procedures you’ve had done and are likely continue to have done, you’re one to talk about health… Did you know that full anaesthesia kills brain cells every time you go under? You might as well ask someone to knock you out with a baseball bat – much cheaper! Did you know hospitals tend to make you sick because, well, all of the city’s sick gather in that one place that is so desperately sanitized with chemicals that will see some of those patience returning a couple decades later – to the oncology ward?
Do you know what the “tox” in “Botox” stands for? It stands for “toxin”. For “don’t touch that shit and most certainly don’t have it injected into your body”.

Your hypocrisy is thinly veiled, though you’re probably convinced otherwise in your overconfident attitude. You are no exception to “health concerns” fat haters. It’s actually a common practice to defend the blatant disrespect and dehumanizing discrimination against fat people with “but, because, fat isn’t healthy”.

From a certain point up, obesity may indeed be unhealthy, or at least potentially so. Fat itself is actually rather healthy, if not present excessively. But what’s excess? Dunham’s modest layer of insulation? Oh please.

But smoking is unhealthy from the first draft, while obesity isn’t problematic from the first pound… Alcoholics, let’s not even. Don’t get me started on irresponsible driving. Unprotected casual sex. And walking while black in the US. 

How noble of you to intervene when a somewhat overweight woman showed herself on TV wearing a bikini. How noble of you to warn that she will make other women crave to stay fat and diabetic. Though I know very few diabetics, while knowing many overweight people no less healthy than my skinny or normal acquaintances. Actually, for some reason, most of my athletic friends describe themselves as cripples. Ah, sports injuries. Gotta love that healthy lifestyle! While I’m right here with a high bone density and blood panels you should all bow to. And weighing, umm, twice of whatever you weigh, Mrs. Rivers.

But back to the nobility of your profound concern for the unhealthy image promoted by fat acceptance or at least, a lack of self-hate displayed by a minority of overweight people because the majority is caving under the excessive hatred directed their way.

Where were you, Mrs. Rivers, when another action hero was glorified on the big screen for shooting and blowing up all that moved? I mean, that sure wasn’t healthy.
Where were you, Mrs. Rivers, during all those car and other vehicle chases in every single Hollywood movie? Where were you to reprimand the makers that this may encourage road rage in viewers?
Where were you, Mrs. Rivers, when every Hollywood movie with a couple in it, glorified having spontaneous – unprotected – sex within the first 2 dates, possibly in the rubble of a previous battle field with nails and shards everywhere? Where were you then, to warn viewers that this is how to get HIV? 
Where were you, Mrs. Rivers, when those teen-geared movies and TV shows such as Skins, showed off the coolness of drug abuse? 
Where were you, Mrs. Rivers, when Nicole Kidman had been so botoxed up that she looked angry even when she was trying to laugh?
Where were you, Mrs. Rivers, every time Hollywood glorified some sort of violence (very unhealthy!) as a first resort?

You, Mrs. Rivers, were nowhere to be found.

People like you hide behind health concerns in order to dehumanize, disrespect, and mock fat people. Because fancy terms such as “health risks” and “sincere concern” protect you from looking like those mindless schoolyard bullies who just shout “Die, fat cow!” you are truly not above. If the health of fat people were the true concern of fat haters, those same people would be just as passionately bashing smokers, road ragers, parents who put guns in their kids’ hands, animal husbandry, promiscuous people, drug users, boozeheads, etc. because the health risks they are exposing themselves to, are not smaller by any means than obesity. 
Yes, a 500 lbs woman is probably less healthy than a slim person who only smokes 3 cigarettes a day, but we all know that no group engaging in risky behavior consists exclusively of disciplined people who frown upon excess. My chainsmoking mother is a lot less healthy than my BMI-34 self. I’m willing to bet on this. 

You do not care for the health of fat people. Unless I missed the linguistic revolution where care is no longer defined by compassion and outreach, but by disrespect and discrimination. Then, yes, you “care” about us and our health. How is your health, by the way? I’m sure looking half your age when you’re 81, takes its toll on more than just your wallet. And your efforts aren’t even rewarded. 

Also, you look like a sunburnt beached blob fish and you actively and passionately chose and maintained that look, much unlike many fat people. Just saying. When I Google Image-searched your name, Google refused to load the results while my connection worked fine otherwise. My Internet will more readily load the “extras” in The Walking Dead, than your face…

Love the MJ nose though!



…yeah, I kinda only respect my elders when they act in a respectable manner.

Anna Giladi, Israel’s hottest fat girl

This is me.


And I look good. Because, f*ck you, that’s why. Picture taken by Bat Sheva Creations (Facebook). I had just gotten my French Bulldog, Marie, and decided to have some pictures taken by a pro for dating profiles etc. Make-up: Bat Sheva. Dress: Hell Bunny. Hair: 100% natural. And I don’t care my teeth aren’t snow-white, I don’t care you can see I’m big from the neck down, I don’t care you can see the dumb “PMS made me smash a window” scar or the even dumber “I like that band, let’s get their logo tattooed on my hand” tattoo. I got a Hell Bunny dress and a  Frenchie with one blue eye, and you don’t LOL. Because let’s face it, I represent the painful truth that fat people can be beautiful. Deal with it. I can’t get over the mystery of why fat people are collectively dismissed as ugly, when slim people with ugly faces get a chance for being slim. I’d rather be fat-assed than huge-nosed or meth-teethed. I mean no disrespect to people who would be considered ugly by others; I am trying to say: apparently fat people cannot be beautiful, and slim people cannot be ugly – while both statements are incorrect. Can you look at someone with a beautiful face and tell them they’re ugly because their ass needs a plus-size pair of pants? Or because their belly has an extra roll? Contrarywise, would you tell a person with an “ugly” face that they’re pretty because their weight isn’t striking? Makes no sense. If I were getting a little less hate – okay, a lot less – I would not feel bad about my body at all. I only do because society won’t let me feel any other way. Any moment of confidence and self-love is ended by a bunch of people showering me in dirty looks or calling “whale” at me. Does this face look like a whale’s? 1240599_206194872889984_522255070_n