So, none of you have any seen me, so you are unaware of my size, and anyone who has seen me would find it a little odd for me to be shouting about Fat Pride. It's not just that I watched my mother struggle with her weight my entire life, something I found confusing and upsetting as a child, btw. One of my earliest memories is of my mother bemoaning her weight, denigrating her own body. And there I was, looking at the goddess of my world, the bringer of hugs and comfort, the source of all good things . . . sorry, I'm crying. That's how deeply it affected me, and probably how deeply it affects every little girl. "It" being our culture of thin, our culture of fat shaming, our culture of self hatred.
This is why we need Fat Pride. I know, I know, we're all going to be HUGE and DIE OF HEART ATTACKS if we stop fat shaming people into apologizing for every ounce over emaciated they happen to be. Because skinny people never get sick. Not ever. And we never die of heart attacks. Nope.
Anyway, my mother lost her weight. And those warm, soft hugs are all bony now. And her heart isn't in any better shape than it was 30 years ago. And maybe we should just learn to be a little nicer to the pudgey among us. And ourselves while we're at it. (and maybe i should stop starting sentences with "and.")