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Fatphobic messages are everywhere. In media, in comedy, in advertising. Even in children’s shows. Ursula from The Little Mermaid was a bad bitch who took no shit, but naturally her grotesqueness was synonymous with her fatness. From the before and after posts on Instagram, FitnessPal apps on your phone to track each calorie and macronutrient, and clothing choices screeching to a halt past size 16 — society reinforces that fat bodies are bad and unwelcome. Existing in a world that is not made for you is already a reality for queer people. It is doubly so for queer fat people (as well as queer people with disabilities and accessibility requirements).
Fatphobia in the LGBTQAI+ community is a queer issue. The rampant gatekeeping exploding as of late seeks only to divide us — why give the anti-trans extremists and homophobes what they want and implode from within? Queerness is at the heart of rejecting cisheteronormative, patriarchal notions of what is a “right” body, a “good”, body, or a “correct” body. Ask any fat queer person if they’ve felt discriminated against within the queer community as a result of their weight and the answers will speak for themselves.
As we (hopefully) move forward from the “no fats no femmes no asians” world of thin-white exclusivity into a broader sphere of body inclusion, we need to deconstruct and reconcile our own internal fatphobia. This is entrenched in the psyche early through society’s reinforcement as well as the actions and attitudes of our caregivers. My primary caregiver had a scathing view of their own body and cycled through countless yo-yo diets, Jenny Craig stints, and Weight Watchers counting counting counting.
My own eating disorder came ruthlessly early. Now in my 30th decade I’m unravelling what this means with feeding myself regularly, the resulting change in weight, and the interaction with my ever changing view of self. Even my identity in my presentation as queer/nonbinary has been impacted by the resulting change in shape and what this means for the type of clothes I choose to wear.
My weight has rollercoastered over the years. I’ve been both skeletal and had doctors furrow their brow after weighing me — as if I was a manatee in ill fitting chain store jeans…
