Confessions of the Fat Girl #6
Thinking about Invisibility lately…
How is it that those who are Fat are also imperceptible? Overweight people are… well… big… much bigger than “normal” people of their same height. I use the word “normal” quite loosely in that sentence since, these days, some people claim that obesity is more normal than healthy weight.
At any rate, I have become aware that I take up quite a bit of space. I feel it, mostly, in my hips. Suddenly, it is uncomfortable to drive long distances because the thingy into which I put the seatbelt to lock it safely in place (I am sure there is a technical term for it, but it eludes me now) digs into my right upper thigh/lower hip quite uncomfortably. I am aware because, in some theaters, my hips goosh inward as I stealthily squeeze into the seat between the arms that I am all too conscious of now.
I am now aware of – most acutely, and quite traumatizingly so – the physical space in which I inhabit. It’s a considerable amount of space for someone as short as me.
The interesting thing is, most people do not perceive me as being as truly fat as I am. (And, ya know, I still shudder when I claim my fat, even in writing it here.) I have spoken to several people as of late regarding this weight issue of mine. It has only been people I have allowed into my world, however. They are the people I have trusted to get somewhat within my walls. Without fail, all of them have said, “You can’t be that heavy! There is no way!”
Yes, well, unless all the scales in the universe are lying, yes, there is a way.
It could be that, perhaps, since I do not hold conscious the numbers which scream at me from my feet placed upon that evil scale of mine, they are not able to see the actual pounds. Perhaps because I am, somehow, convincing myself that I am slender on the inside, they are perceiving me that way as well. Each week, when I step onto that scale I pray to God that a miracle has happened and that damn scale will read the numbers that match the Angie that I am inside.
See, this Angie that I am inside is beautiful. She is creative. She is miraculous, really. She is brilliant. She is healthy. She is happy. She is wealthy. She is standing in front of a crowded room and saying, “Look at me! I am breathtaking!”
Somehow, I have become invisible in my fat. People look around me. They look over me. They even look through me. Because I am fat, I am not seen. For awhile, that served me well because I didn’t want to be seen. I didn’t want to be noticed. Yes. It worked well for a very long time; actually almost eighteen years.
Before the me that I am now, I was teeny-tiny – and still thinking I was fat. There is a correlation there and I am well aware of that. However, correlation or not, I am ready to have my Outside Angie match the Inside Angie.