Fat Sisters

Thanks to Zaftig Bianca for pointing out Dr. Mark Hyman’s article posted on HuffPo today. It got me thinking. I went gluten free last spring after testing done by my naturopathic physician indicated high sensitivities to gluten containing grains and beer (which also contains gluten). This means I cannot consume wheat, rye, barley, oats, and spelt in any form, nor can I have any food to which these grains or their derivatives have been added. After going gluten free, I soon learned that neither can I tolerate lactose, so I have also eliminated all dairy products from my diet as well. I have worked hard to avoid gluten and lactose as much as humanly possible over the past few months. This is a lot of work because, as it turns out, foods that come from places other than my home may or may not contain gluten and/or lactose in some form or another. This, coupled with my son’s multiple food allergies, has meant that we are no longer able to eat out. Ever. It has meant that I’ve become that crazy label scrutinizing lady in Trader Joe’s. You know, the one with a degree in food science in one hand and a magnifying glass in the other. It means that I cannot just pop into the drive through whenever I feel a little peckish. It means that I bring food I prepared myself  whenever I leave the house for more than an hour. It means that if it’s “company policy” not to allow outside food or drink, then I stay home.

Having food allergies and sensitivities turns out to be a huge deal. It sucks. It sucks huge fucking donkey cock. Yes, I am eating more healthfully that I have eaten for much of my adult life. And yes, I feel so much better than I have felt in a long time.* My mood is, for the most part, better. I have more energy, for the most part. But you know what? I would give anything to be able to think about food like a “normal” person again, to be able just hop in the car and drive over to McDonald’s for a Big Mac and a large fries, or down to the local chip shop (yes, there is an authentic, amazing, chip shop in my town) just once. But I can’t. Because if I do, I will spend the following three weeks in the digestive system equivalent of traction. And let me tell you, that sucks huge fucking donkey cock, too.

I don’t mean for this post to sound whiny or to diminish the experience of people with “real” disabilities,** but to just toss out “Hey fatsos, food allergies causes fatz!!” to the huddled, panicked, quivering OMGTEHFATZWILLKILLUSDEADERTHANDEAD masses is right up there with “Hack of a leg and lose 20 lbs!” as far as weight loss advice goes. Going gluten free represents a massive investment of time, energy (and money, people! You think rice/garbanzo/sorghum flour is cheap?!) and is a huge commitment, never mind having to deal with other food allergies like peanut and soy. It is not something to be undertaken lightly or without some degree of sadness. Having a gluten intolerance (or celiac’s disease or food allergies) isn’t the same as Weight Watchers. You can’t just stop going.

*I had a cluster of moderate to severe symptoms that have either mostly abated or have gone away completely.
**You know, the ones recognized by the ADA, although I would argue that having Celiac’s disease or a Gluten Intolerance or any food allergy would (and should) fall under the provisions of the ADA.

I found this story equal parts amusing and irritating.

Exerpt:
HACKENSACK, N.J. (AP) — A man accused of running up and down a flight of stairs to kill a former son-in-law is offering a novel defense: At 5 feet 8 and 285 pounds, he was just too fat to have pulled it off.

An attorney for Edward Ates is making the case that his client wouldn’t have had the energy needed to fatally shoot Paul Duncsak, a 40-year-old pharmaceutical executive, from a perch on the staircase.

Lawyer Walter Lesnevich claims that Ates, 62 at the time of the 2006 killing, was in such bad physical shape that he couldn’t have pulled off the shooting or the fast getaway the killer made.

Lesnevich said his client’s weight has led to asthma, sleep apnea and other obesity-related ailments.

“You look at Ed and you don’t need to hear it from a doctor,” Lesnevich said.

Ok, how do I even begin to dissect this? Firstly, I am annoyed at the claim that he is “obviously unhealthy”, because, dudes, look!–DEATHFATZ!

I am also annoyed at the assumption that he was so DEATHFATZ that he couldn’t possibly have the physical ability to run up a flight of stairs, fire six shots, clean up, and run away in mere “minutes”, as if every obese person can’t possibly do such things.
After all, deathfatz are not only unhealthy, they are UNFIT too!

However, I am pretty amused at the weak case the DA has against the defendant. I don’t know about you, but if I were basing my arguments on flimsy circumstanstial evidence (cell phone records, computer forensics, and vaguely suspcious internet activity), I would be trying harder to discredit the defense’s defense. Though, come to think of it, just how can you prove to a jury born of an anti-fat culture that a fat man’s claims of deathfat-ill-health is really quite dubious? The DA probably doesn’t even know where to begin.

What I find even more amusing is that its very possible that this man is indeed too “unhealthy and unfit” to have committed this murder, but no one seems to have considered that it likely has absolutely nothing to do with his FAT.

And if someone does realize that, the defense attorney sure isn’t going to point that out!

BEFORE:

AFTER:

I’ll be honest. I am not a Feminist. Nor am I here, on the Fatosphere feed, to talk about intersectionality. I am here because I have spent the better part of my adult life hating my body and I finally realized that I didn’t want to get to the end of my life still disgusted by it, still despising it, still resenting the shrine in which my soul resided while on this earth. I get that a major part of Fat Acceptance is at least as much (maybe more) about accepting the fat bodies of Others as it is about accepting my own fat body. For some strange reason I thought “acceptance” was about tolerance and compassion–tolerance OF and compassion FOR the diversity of experiences of other people. Is having a PhD in intersectionality really the only way to even have a discussion about this? I do hope I am wrong about that. Because right now? The Fatosphere does not seem to be a friendly place for those of us who are still learning.

I know this is supposed to be Fat Talk Free Week but this has been on my mind lately and I really need to just purge it out of my mental system as verbal vomit, just so I can get on with the actual business of positive self-talk.

The fantasy of being thin and the fantasy of staying the same are both hitting me hard this month. Actually, has been for a couple months now. I’ve gained twenty pounds since January, and I’m a little freaked out by that. My jeans and blouses are too tight and I have had to up-size them twice so far this year. I’m trying hard not to blame myself for it, or to over analyze my gain, medically-speaking (i.e: hypothyroidism? pre-diabetes? malnutrition? Panic!). I keep telling myself I’ve had a stressful year, and that that’s ok, and that the size of my thighs and belly really doesn’t change the fact that I am a good person and an attractive woman. But I don’t really feel attractive right now, just sluggish and bloated. And I gotta admit, there’s a part of me that cares about cute clothes only because cute clothes hide how unattractive I feel, especially when I look at my body in the mirror. I prod my new inches as if it were some particularly creepy-looking dead insect, and label my body as pendulous, saggy, lumpy, doughy, and pasty, and tell myself I really got to stop eating crap. Then I feel even more guilty, for I know that no matter what crap I may or may not be eating, its better for me than the crap I’m thinking and saying to myself. So I eat more crap, just to spite that crap-talking bitch inside my head.

*insert a frustrated half-scream here*

So anyway. In other words, I’ve lost track of this whole fat acceptance thing, and I also know that I’m not the only one. and in the interest of ending this pms-induced round of self-pity, I’m going to take Rachel of the F-word’s suggestion and start being concertedly happy with myself, dammit. Her first suggestion:

Want to start trimming the fat from fat talk? Here’s some ways how: Choose one friend or family member and discuss one thing you each like about yourself.

One of the things I do like about my body are my breasts. They are large, round, and pillowy. Yeah, they aren’t “perfect” but no one’s perfect, and mine are still beautiful. They are the stamp of my femininity and as aggravating as I find them to be sometimes, I like the fact I have them.

Okay then. Feel free to let the comments section become a forum to share your self-appreciating affirmations with the world!