fat identity

Psychology tells us that even those things that hurt us provide us with some benefit, otherwise we wouldn’t do them.  I’ve been examining why I’ve allowed myself to be overweight for so long and I’ve come up with a few reasons all of which revolve around my “fat identity“.

My fat identity is that part of me that wants an excuse not to succeed.  My fat identity allows me to blame my physical self for my tendency toward self-criticism and allows me to not examine other reasons why I might be so down on myself.  My fat identity exists in opposition to the self that I try to present most to the outside world: the strong, capable, intelligent, I-don’t-care-what-others-think-of-me identity.  But the latter is a persona I adopt at the expense of emotional energy and as such, I hope to one day lose my fat identity and replace it permanently with an ever-confident identity.  But in addition to girth I will be losing certain things that do benefit me.

I will lose a certain sense of safety: my heavy body has always felt like a safe body. A body that does not have to consider its sexual power nor particularly worry that it will be the victim of a sexual aggressor.  Paradoxically, my fat identity has offered me a certain sense of confidence; in particular, a confidence that allows me to walk by myself late at night and interact with men without worrying that I am being treated the way I am as a result of attraction.  I understand logically that this is completely ridiculous.  While I don’t believe women should walk around in fear, it is tremendously problematic to assume that fat women don’t get raped.  It is likewise ridiculous to assume that no men are attracted to overweight women: I am, after all, married to a man who is presumably attracted to me.  But I know that my fat identity has allowed me to not internalize concerns like personal safety and sexual power.

My fat identity has been useful as a bastion of oppression. I am scared to appear to be buying into beauty standards.  I have always been able to use my fat to stand outside of certain norms. My fat identity has always given me an automatic place to stand against the patriarchy.  My fat identity is not my feminist identity, but they definitely have a certain intersectionality.  I’ve seemed to internalize that being fat makes me a better feminist somehow.  I am worried that being conventionally beautiful will be used against me in my struggle against mainstream culture as I have seen it used against other resisters.

Perhaps the most troubling thing to lose is a superficial shield against meaningful self-examination. My fat identity gives me a way to look just on the surface to find an explanation for my propensity toward self-abuse and self-hatred.  I’ve come to believe that I am overweight because I dislike myself, not the other way around.  Losing the fat will mean gaining a new understanding of my core self and put me in a position where I will have to face likely painful realities about why I can’t just accept, respect, and be proud of myself.  

These benefits may be precisely why, until now, I’ve always sabotaged myself in my pursuit of health.  While I am scared to lose these benefits, this time around, I have defined them and as such am able to prepare myself for a life without them.