Fat as Armor

Overall, I am happy with my progress. My labs are improving, and my weight is coming down. I can feel muscles under my flab. I am wearing my “skinny” jeans. I am getting healthier, and I am feeling better.

Edvard Munch, The Scream. Lithograph, 1895. CC BY 4 The Munch Museum.

Right now, my weight is slowly creeping up. Sunday was an off-the-rails day, and I am fighting not going off-the-rails today. A Del Taco Epic Chorizo Breakfast Burrito sounds just awesome. And I am arguing with Brunhilda that it isn’t okay to grab one. I know there is a lot more going on than a Del Taco Epic Chorizo Breakfast Burrito. My anxiety is off the charts. When the anxiety starts, Brunhilda starts her attacks.

As a fat person, I am ignored a lot in public. I don’t have to interact with people in society because I am not noticed. Fat is an armor from being vulnerable. Being fat, I am useful, but not threatening. I can be smart, but not taken too seriously. So if I don’t engage, I can’t get hurt.

As my body is changing, it is terrifying. I took the picture on the Welcome! page recently. I looked at it and thought, “Wow, I look attractive.” I posted the photo on FaceBook and basically said the same. I received such beautiful responses from my friends. It was very affirming. And scary.

My anxiety keeps nagging me. What if I am still rejected as a healthy person? I won’t have the fat to blame. It then becomes a rejection of me. While there is a lot of rejection and hurt from being fat, fat is also an armor. I know I will be rejected as a fat person. I am prepared. I am not prepared to be vulnerable.

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