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.

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Dear all Men.

Dear all men.

When you want a woman to change her appearance before she expects to have a chance with you, please do the following:
-have your legs broken and rearranged so you’re tall enough to fit our expectations of the ideal man. Most women like their men taller than themselves. If the Chinese can do it, so can you. Yeah it’s painful, but so is dieting.
-lose some fucking weight yourselves. If it can be expected from us, it can be expected from you. Fat men are not better looking than fat women, and I don’t wanna date one.
-get your bald spot treated with some hair implants. If a woman can be expected to fix her body hair, you can be expected to fix your head hair. Yeah it hurts, but so does waxing and lasering our legs, asses, and armpits.
-get your random tattoos removed, they’re fucking ugly. If you can expect a woman to wear chemicals on her face, you can be expected to remove chemicals from your arm. Yeah, it costs money, but so do Vichy and Garnier.
-get a circumcision. You think a woman’s unwashed cooch is disgusting? Well a) you don’t have to lick it, b) look under your own skin flaps. You could sell that cheese 1 pound a week.
-get a 6-pack implanted. If implants are a reasonable demand to make of flat women, I think it’s only fair we get to demand a skinny guy to get some abs, fake or not. Oh, you’re scared of the surgery? Every time I go under the knife, I update my will in case I don’t wake up, and picture nice things so I don’t have nightmares during the anesthesia. I’ve had 6 surgeries and it never gets any less scary or dangerous, assholes.
-stop smoking and drinking. You think not finding the right hole underneath her fat rolls is annoying? Try being kissed by tobacco breath, or cum with the taste of beer. Oh and shave your balls, I really hate pubes in my mouth.

Every surgery is painful, every anesthesia is potentially life-threatening. A gastric bypass can destroy your life and leave you handicapped and miserable forever. Make-up can ruin our skin. Diets are torture and unreasonable considering their’re hardly natural or what our bodies want.
Women put themselves through these nightmares so YOU accept us. While all you do, is sit around, wait for dinner to be ready, and hope for sex. You think you deserve a batch for suffering through her shopping sprees or stupid romance movies. You think you’re great guys just for suffering through her PMS mood swings. I bet none of you is willing to go through the same troubles to be accepted by a woman, as you expect women to go through. How about you only expect from a woman as much as she can expect from you?

“His loss” when he doesn’t like’em fat?

The trope I’m sick of hearing, is when people, usually women about men, say that if a man rejects a woman because of her appearance, he’s an asshole and doesn’t deserve her.

Wrong.

Well, kind of. See, the human brain is wired to make you feel good when you’re looking, tasting, touching, hearing, or smelling something you consider good/pretty/tasty. Pleasant. The opposite of this, elicits the opposite or at least leaves you cold. This is true for food, and this is true for people. It is especially true for sexual attraction.

For ease and brevity and to stay on the general topic of obesity from my female POV, I will focus on men’s likes and dislikes, and narrow those down to weight.

I’m not saying that all men always feel repulsed by all fat women, but when an individual man considers obesity unattractive or ugly or otherwise unpleasant, he can’t make his brain give him a boner regardless. You can’t make yourself like something. It’s not about being a bad person. It does not make you a bad person for rejecting someone whose appearance makes your brain ooze chemicals that say “Noooooooo!”. Being an asshole about it, makes you a bad person. Be nice with your rejection. Be nice to all who haven’t wronged you.

I have tried feeling attracted to people for their being a perfect fit or available to me. This included fat guys. They were great friends and I loved them dearly, but their appearance told my brain to not give me the hots for them sexually. Sadly so. I had an emotional attachment because of our pleasant mutual experiences, their affection for me, but when it comes to sexual attraction, being ignited by someone’s physique does matter, and the brain decides whether or not their looks ignite you.

In this sense, I’ve had many crushes but only felt sexually “ignited” as in attracted, by those I and my brain agreed were good-looking. I could have had and probably enjoyed sex with the others too, but “the hots” would not have been there. It would have been “nice” for being with that emotionally dear person, but I would not have been attracted physically and the sex would therefor have been kinda lame, nice but not steamy. And I’m only talking about those I didn’t consider downright ugly.

A fat sweaty guy repulses me, sorry to say. Am I a bitch for enjoying his company as a friend, appreciating his wit and humor, his knowledge, his helpfulness, our adventures together, but shudder at the thought of sleeping with him? Hello – I don’t believe in courtesy fucks. The guy is a great friend for all intents and purposes, EXCEPT for fucking and for the relationships built partially on fucking, like boyfriend or husband things. The same way, my male friends adored and respected me as their friend, but cannot be blamed for not wanting more when it’s the skinny flat girls that happen to “ignite” them sexually. Though one recently admitted he’d had a secret crush on me back then.

It’s not just about weight. Others are repulsed or attracted by height, skin color, hair, teeth, racial features etc. Physical attraction does matter however, when you want to connect sexually. While I consider language skills sexy in a guy, in the end I don’t give a fuck about his degree when I’m supposed to lick his belly. That’s when his belly matters. I realized long since that my fetish for power and authority only works in theory/fantasy. When the uniform comes off and the gun is hung at the coat rack, he better be toned, tall, and Middle-Eastern. Hookers are only picked by intellect and personality when needed to accompany you to some show-off event or when you actually just want company, yes, some pay just for talking and eating. A man who only or mainly wants sex, picks looks his brain tells him he likes. I’ve read reviews on hookers that really trashed them for “bedside manners”, but hailed their sexy bodies and announced many more visits in the future. Lesson learned: when it comes to fucking, your looks matter very much. A committed relationship of course requires both: sexual attraction and emotional connection. But it really, really, does need both, whatever either entails or is based on.

Yes, sometimes emotional connections are so strong that you just accept the unattractive body of your partner and marry and love and hump them anyways and that’s beautiful, but very often such partners end up being cheated on because while they are loved for their inner values, the sex isn’t hot enough for lack of attraction. Even if there is no adultery, there is likely to be more attraction and temptation by other types, looks, secret fantasies, and lots of secret porn with “better” bodies. There’s a difference between hungrily humping someone because you love being close to them (inner values), or because the blood rushes to your genitalia (physical attraction). Both can work without the other, but it’s only natural when they don’t, which is the case more often than not. You will not love and screw your unnatractive partner for their looks, but in spite of them. Egh, sounds less than great.

So not wanting your best friend because she’s fat, doesn’t make you a horrible person. Being mean about it, does.

Regardless and by-the-way-ish, some reject their fat admiror in spite of physical attraction being there. This is especially the case in young men who reject fat girls because they are or believe to be socially expeced to want the type that is commonly considered hot. They want a show-off girlfriend while secretly yearning for that nice chubby class mate. They are scared it hurts their pride, respectability, or manhood to show up with a fatty; this is very similar to closet gays obsessing over how they love tits in public while hurting inside and wanking off to gay porn when alone. Coming out of the closet, or openly dating fatties, often comes with age and experience and the confidence these factors bring along. On discussion platforms revolving around free love, swingers, and hookers, many men will tell you that while skinny girls are pretty to look at, those with love handles and cushions are often preferred for both physical attraction, and handling rough sex better. Men tend to like big tits and big asses, but only with age comes the reconciliation with the reality that big tits and asses usually mean that everything else is big, too. And who in his right mind, would say no to a nice pair of big tits, just because they come with a sizable belly?

A note I just remembered: a person can consider certain features attractive or unattractive in general, but still feel genuinely attracted to or repulsed by individuals with those features because other features of theirs are perceived as more important on a case-by-case basis. For example, if 10 men reject me for my fat ass and can’t focus on my pretty face instead because the ass matters more to them, 10 more men may not like my fat ass, but feel so attracted to my facial beauty that the weight is outweighed by it. And yeah, some man really love a fat ass.