I am back… on tinder that is. It is seriously nerve wracking. This is where the issue lies (unless you’re a cis straight dude) your pictures are perfectly curated. The first photo is a fake-candid with your makeup artist skills on display. The second is a full body mirror pic with the perfect angle, the first thing in the morning, after a dump, so your tummy is as flat as possible. The third photo -at least for me- accentuates my chest. I’m not hiding my body or my face, but I am taking these photos at the most perfect moment, angle, situation… and this is where my anxiety lies… am I catphishing?
Do I take my pictures in unflattering angles? The skinny people don’t… why should I? Do I take a photo that shows my double chin? Maybe my half naked photo – you know the one where I show that little bit of skin over my belly button almost to my sternum – maybe I should re-take that photo, sitting down so you see my rolls? Should I post a clear photo of my thighs and my ass, so you can see every last dimple? You compliment them on my face cheeks but it’s a problem when they’re on my ass?
So, I decided to keep my photos. I didn’t change them. I wrote in my profile my aesthetic can be described as tattooed, cute and pudgy. I could have said fat… I should have. Even writing this now, I mostly likely won’t go back and change it. I know its wrong. I know I affirmed being a fat woman earlier in this series. Then why am I having difficulty reaffirming it now, on Tinder?
Well, 1- what if this person doesn’t or wouldn’t consider me as fat and then upon seeing the comments will actually think I am catphishing? Maybe we would have been perfect, but the word fat came off as harsh, they passed up? 2- Will I just be bombarded with messages saying ‘You’re not fat, you’re beautiful’ – like… can’t I be both? 3- Will someone read my profile and then dupe me – make me think they like me all for some elaborate practical joke they set up with their friends? You know the one, there you fuck the fat girl and make fun of her to your friends after? Okay, I’ll admit that last one is very She’s All That if Rebel Wilson was in it and it had a very bad ending. Let’s be real though, this isn’t a situation that I haven’t heard of happening before. I’ve had some brutal shit happen to me – like I wouldn’t be surprised. Like in high school, I was in love with this guy, he was my best friend at the time and he ACTUALLY told me that I wasn’t ‘pretty enough’ and then he started dating my then best girl friend.
*** Please note she and I aren’t friends anymore, but not because of her dating him but because she proved to be a shitty person later anyways. Welcome to my train of thought, nothing is censored. ***
Now, objectively I am much prettier than her, but she has that ideal body – so I knew when he said that to me, what he was really saying was ‘too fat.’
* * *
Now, Tinder has not necessarily been all bad. I do manage to get quite a few matches and, about a year ago I met the man I’d fall in love with (spoiler alert: we didn’t work out but that’s not the point either.) Other than him, the Beloved-Warrior as he’s been dubbed in my poetry, the men I have encountered have been… let’s say less than ideal – actually less than acceptable. Besides him, I’ve encountered three types of dudes (for the sake of this article I’m omitting the women I meet on here) 1 – (now this is not so bad) men who I end up becoming friends with! 2 – I get the men who have food fetishes and talk about wanting to feed me or watch me eat or incorporate food constantly during sex. It’s fine if you’re into that but I am not. 3 – men who don’t have fetishes but are embarrassed about finding me attractive and basically thinking I am good enough to sleep with but not good enough to bring around to Christmas with their families or hang with their friends or take on dates out in public.
Tinder is hard because I feel like I heavily rely on my personality to wow people and peak their interests. It is rare that I’ll get approached at a bar, or someone will send over a drink to me like we see in the movies – and I know that shit happens because I see it happening to my friends. So, when I match with someone, I make loads of excuses. I need to make sure that they fall for me with my cute and witty banter. Maybe he’ll be super nerdy and impressed with my Star Wars and Wonder Woman tattoos. Whatever the case may be… just meeting up for coffee on a whim? I can’t. So much can go wrong... That being said, I’m back on Tinder. Wish me luck.
I don’t want you to feel sorry for me, or if you recognize yourself in these posts – it isn’t about shaming you or anything like that. It isn’t even about you – not really. Why is it that what I look like feels like a barrier? it is holding me back more than skin should. I am held back, and it hurts so much.
I was travelling a little while ago, and I was with someone I’ve been interested on and off for a few years. We are alone. We are spending time together. We’ve flirted recently online… and then I was there. I travelled to see them. I was right there, I could have made some semblance of a move – but I didn’t. It was like the last few men, the words of my grandmother had become weights that held my feet down in the pool. Go for it, you’re beautiful.
No. I sat there, and I waited. I waited while my heart skipped three beats at a time – I waited, and nothing happened. I felt gross and ugly, and instead of going dancing with him the following night – I stayed in my hotel room, I ate food, I went to bed early and spent the while of it crying and upset.
This was my fault. I let my fears and the voices hold me. I let the posters on the walls, the adds on TV and on the Instagram tell me that I am not a sexual beautiful being. I let it hold me back. But then again, it holds him back. Every him that encounters a fat woman, who doesn’t give her more than a quick glance because of her body. Won’t look beyond the rolls to see the brains, the heart. I am afraid, when I look at you, that that is all you see. I am afraid that my skin is the forcefield around keeping me at arms length, when I just want to embrace.
Now, many of you know – at least those who know me personally – I recently left a job, where I was constantly let hurt not just of my weight. The amount of times, men would suggest the keto diet not knowing how sick I got on it. I was throwing up and ill and just depressed and suicidal. So, I nodded and thanked them for the suggestion, then went to the back store and cried. Now only were the clients like that but looking on my Instagram and admiring the beautiful plus size women in my timeline and then, having my boss lean over my shoulder and comment about how it’s too bad they have such pretty faces or she’d be so hot is she was thinner. He even so much as made jokes about leaving the mother of his child if she gained weight, that he expects her to be that size since he met her that way. He generally made comments about women constantly. You have no idea how that made me feel, these women, who i thought were amazing - they looked like me... If he thought that way, did everyone else? Did every eye that made a quick glance towards me on the subway also thinking this? How can I even go out in public if these are the thoughts everyone is having?
So, now you’re all reading this and thinking… what do I do then? Call out people who shame bodies (anyone’s bodies). Tell them it’s not okay. Report them if you must. Tell your friends they are beautiful – not just those who are conventionally beautiful but remind those who may not hear it all the time. It seems dumb and superficial – but let your loved ones know that they are seen, they are beautiful inside and out.
I don’t know what is going to happen next, and maybe that man I travelled to see, maybe things will happen, maybe they won’t but what I do hope is that as time passes, I’ll have less and less stories and situations like these. That any fat people; male, female, non-binary or trans; regardless of how you identify, that you are loved, that you are seen for every wonderful thing you are.
I am a fat woman. I am constantly wondering if I should bother to walk into stores, knowing I likely do not fit into their largest size. I am a fat woman. I am always wondering if I can make the move in romantic situations, because the world sees my body as a problem. Spoiler! Its not. That doesn’t really change how I feel though, everyday in my body- this body that at every turn is too much but simultaneously not enough. I am too much for the eyes, too much for the seams of my pants, too much for the largest bra at the local Victoria Secret – not to detract but fuck you guys, and that’s one reason why you’re closing – I am too much for your hands, squeezing my sides, my curves, they are all too much. Then, flip side of the coin. I am not enough. My face is not pretty enough, to compensate for my size; I am not funny enough to distract you from my double chin when I laugh; I am not good enough to love. Now, I know this to be untrue. I have fallen in love twice in my life so far – I know I deserve love and I know that it's possible because I’ve experienced it.
Then again – there’s so much about those times I fell in love that made me question this. The first time I fell in love, they left me for someone else. Now this person was not necessarily prettier or smarter or better than me – in all honesty, this girl is not a nice person but that isn’t the point really. The fact is, I was left for someone else. This sent me into a spiral; the spiral I would find myself in constantly thereafter. The person I love has left me. For. Someone. Else. This was something I really could not come to grips with or understand even. So, there it went, my thoughts about my size, my beauty, my worth. If I had been thinner, they never would have gone. They would have fought to stay with me. No.
The second time I fell in love, was with the man I thought was going to be forever honestly. I had loved before, but I knew back then we wouldn’t be together forever, that things like this don’t last – but with him. Oh god. With him, I knew deep in my soul that this was it for me. How could I even look at another man again? If you asked me what I dreamed of in love and life, he surpassed all. Even writing this now, I think that still… to an extent of course. Sometimes great flames are just that, flames that leave you burnt. He broke up with me because he was supposed to leave the country and it hurt to be around me. We cried, we fought, I cried, I fought, I cried some more – and I fought. He had his own things to deal with and I just couldn’t let what we had go. That’s how we ended. I was broken, and he was angry. That’s how we remained for a long time.
Later, I found out he wasn’t leaving – in my mind, the fighting and all the bullshit in between, it was irrelevant, we could be together again. No. He had already started dating someone else – and she was thin. Then I started to question our entire time spent together. Why didn't we go out as much as I wanted us to? Why wasn't he flaunting me around? Was he embarrassed by me - was the fat girl he kept behind closed doors, and when I wanted more he created a ruse to get rid of me? Again, the spiral began. I didn’t want to go out. I comforted myself with food, which just continued the cycle. I am too much. I am not good enough.
While I never fell in love with this other man, this story also seems fitting to include here. He was a friend, he chased me for a long time, and I made him wait because I was still heart broken. Now, I don’t know what happened, but suddenly, I was ready – I saw him in a light I hadn’t before. This ended quite abruptly. I told him that I now felt the same way and that I was ready, but there was someone else in the picture. He decided to date her instead of me. I once again I spiraled and not because he liked someone else – that shit happens all the time, we live in a fast pace world. The issue was when I met her. She was beautiful with perfect skin, and a body I could only dream of having. Then she opened her mouth, and she was vapid and dumb and the type of girl he and I used to make fun of. Spiral. Once again.
There are countless times where I find myself disappointed and blaming my body when a lot of these things were happening to me. My body was not to blame. How society feels about my body is to blame; how it perpetuates certain ideals that I can not fit. The not so silent waves of comment online and off, telling potential to overlook me, that they can do better.
All this to say, this weekend I was with someone and he is someone I’ve crushed on for a few years (I’m not a player, I just crush a lot) and we had dinner, went swimming and while we’ve been flirting via text, nothing came to fruition in person. I have become afraid of this rejection, this constant fear of being told that I am not good enough, that I am not loved…So I say nothing. I do nothing, and I wonder why I am still alone.
I wish the world loved me, my body – fat women – like I do. I don’t want to have to be afraid of showing people love, being loved by others. I am just tired. I am tired.
I have been wondering how to start this. I’ve written it out, rewritten it, erased, taken a cry break, wrote some more and now I am here. My name is Antigoni and I am fat. I am a fat woman. I am a fat and beautiful woman. It has taken me a lot to get to that point, you know, the point where I truly believe that. I am not going to lie though, it is hard sometimes to keep that up. We all have low moments and I want to share that with you today.
I went to they gym the other day. My summer goal is not to get a bikini body or any other trash thoughts like that. I went to the gym because I used to play soccer, and I used to be good and fast. I haven’t played since I was 17 and I am craving it. The game is calling me back.
Now, I went with my lovely cousin who is super fit and really cool (you should check out her blog here by the way – yes, it’s a shameless plug). We were having an amazing time. I interviewed for a new job, which I got. We went to the gym had a sick training session and we were passing by her place before going to get some coffee and bagels. It was a perfect day before my cousin was to set off on her new adventure.
Then I saw my grandmother. Now, let me just say, I love her and that won’t change – but I would be lying if I didn’t say this story hurt me, more than she’ll ever know. She was so happy to see us together. Heck, the fact we were stopping by her place made her day, and I know that just from the way she hugged me. It was so tight – like it was the last time she’d get to hug me. My grandmother always did that. She made me feel like every moment was special and finite because...well it was. She then asked us what we had planned for today. I told her that I had a job interview this morning, and that my cousin and I had gone to the gym and now we were going to run some errands and get a coffee. My grandmother then places her hand around my waist, happy tears forming in her eyes and says: “Oh, that’s so wonderful! Maybe then you’ll find a husband and get married before I die.” My heart sunk. One of my favorite people in the world had broken me in a few words. She had completely and utterly ruined my day. I wanted to leave, go home, eat some ice cream in bed and shut myself off from the world. Never show my fat face in public again.
If you aren’t fat, you may not understand how this may feel. You may even be shrugging it off – she’s an old school lady she just wants you to be happy and married. Right? She does, but that isn’t the point and it isn’t just her. I am constantly being hurt because I am fat. I am seen as less attractive. I have been even told by someone I was sleeping with that I was too fat to seriously date. This doesn’t just happen to me and I fucking hate it. I hate it so much because although I love myself, sometimes I wonder if she’s right – will I remain single because of my body? Is marriage, a kid or two and a family dog too much to expect for a fat woman? I don’t think so, but then again, I’ve been wrong before.
As many of you know I am very active and open about mental health and the issues among young people here in Canada and all over the world. That's why I joined Jack.Org when I started at Concordia University. It is super important to me.
For those of you who do not know what Jack.Org is, we are an organization with the focus of mental health in Canada specifically getting it to young people all across the nation. And who knows better about the issues that young people face than young people! That's why Jack.Org's goal is to get us a seat at the table regarding legislation around issues that affect US and future generations!
So, what I am asking of you, is for my birthday if each and everyone of you can make a little donation for this amazing cause. Even if it's just 5$ and you skip that Starbucks coffee tomorrow or the day after. It is really appreciated and it will go far! CLICK HERE of my photo to donate!!!
Thank you so much! Sending everyone love <3
Hey there lovelies!
Sorry that my site was offline for a few days! I am back and I can't wait to hear from you! I have some things in the works! Keep a look out.