A Qualm: "You're Not Fat; You're Beautiful"

I couldn't tell you how many times I heard that phrase whilst I was growing up, and still today: "You're not fat; you're beautiful." And my guess is that most plus-size women have been told the same thing (accompanied by, "You have such a pretty face," or "At least you have boobs"). It's often said by friends and relatives in an attempt to be reassuring and pseudo-comforting. I don't doubt that sometimes the people saying the words truly don't think the person they're saying the words to is fat. But I also don't doubt that this phrase -- this phrase we hear so much -- stems from the assumption that fat is this big, scary, horrible thing. Not an essential component of survival. Not a characteristic that can make women look feminine and voluptuous and stunning. Nor make a man's shape interesting and soft. But a trait associated with negative and derogatory stereotypes: laziness, ignorance, a burden to insurance companies and the medical community, destined to be ill, etc., etc.
It's one of those ironies. People who say the phrase usually don't mean any harm. They don't think what they're doing is lying or body shaming. They think they're easing your insecurities, unaware that the end result is further stigmatization of fat by linking fatness to unattractiveness. The thing is, if you're a fat man or woman, you are probably acutely aware of your body. Why wouldn't you be, when so much of mainstream society dictates that your figure is the wrong figure? So in the end, hearing someone say, "You're not fat; you're beautiful," can have a pretty counterproductive result.
I struggle with this phrase. I know that I am a plus-size woman. I know that I classify as "obese" by medical standards. I know how big my derriere is and I certainly know how much my body jiggles and wobbles (traits I have come to love thanks to body confidence movements, inspiring plus-size bloggers and my incredible partner -- as well as, simply, growing up and allowing myself to be myself). But I also know that I am tall. I'm tall, and I love vintage fashion. And the combination of these things often makes me look far smaller than I am. In turn, I'm aware that when some people say, "You're not fat; you're beautiful," they really believe it. But the thing is, I don't want them to say it. Not just because it's a lie, but because they're perpetuating a stigma. It's more than possible to be fat and beautiful. I see it everyday, in women (and men) I love and admire. It's also perfectly possible to be fat and healthy; fat and fit; fat and hard working, ambitious, motivated, wonderful, intriguing.
It strikes me as genuinely absurd and oftentimes infuriating how much people are oblivious to this form of body snark. It's become so engrained, and such a part of daily life, that no one stops to think about it anymore. Not too long ago, I saw a friend's Facebook status that was yet another quintessential example of this problem. Being a quirky, alternative dresser, she found that certain tourists visiting Hebden Bridge couldn't stop staring at her. One in particular visibly pointed and laughed. My friend's status was along the lines of, "At least I have personality and unique style, unlike you... you stupid, fat bitch." Seriously, I hear this all the time. If someone is an ass hole, and also fat, they will always, ALWAYS, be referred to as, "The FAT ass hole." Yet again, we link being fat with this other thing (this bad thing), forgetting to realize that it isn't the person's weight that makes them cruel. It's the person! As in, intrinsically. When someone is thin, and an ass hole, we would never think to refer to them as, "The skinny ass hole," or at least, not nearly as often (though I do lamentably hear women being referred to as "skinny bitches" once in a while). The point is, our first world society (or perhaps most society in general nowadays) perceives fat to be something unhealthy, ugly and distasteful, so we go out of our way to comment and mock it in our daily lives.
A misconception certain people have is that because there are more fat people today than perhaps there have been in times passed, that means that fatness is normalized. It is absolutely not normalized. Just because we see something regularly, and because it has become common, does not mean that it is accepted. This could be said of non-hetero sexuality, of men who dress in drag, and yes, of being fat. If it were so accepted, so "normal," we wouldn't have to say things like, "You're not fat; you're beautiful." We'd choose instead to say, "Your fat is beautiful," or "You are fat and beautiful." But very rarely do we hear these things outside body-positive and fat-positive communities.

Some of you may have seen my recent Bustle experiment: "I Am a Plus-Size Woman Who Wore a Low-Rise Bikini to the Beach and This is What Happened." Toward the end, I write, "The only way to normalize the 'abnormal' is to embrace it." Just because fat people are in the majority in certain parts of the world doesn't mean they're perceived as "normal" or beautiful. And it's ok to be different. Truly, our differences make us special and interesting. But I think if anything different is ever going to receive a certain level of acceptance, we have to consciously try to end the body snark -- even when it's unintentional. In some ways, the fact that it is often unintentional is going to make it far more difficult to combat (because our unawareness is such a serious thing). But personally, I think any little bit of help counts. Eradicating the lies, even the innocent enough ones, will count. Saying, "Yes you're fat, and you're also beautiful, and your fat is part of that beauty," -- that will count.

So why did I include outfit photos? Well, the photographer who shot these (Lucy Cartwright) played around with set-design, lighting and my positioning in a way that I feel created quite a beautiful outcome. Though my own self-esteem and confidence have grown exponentially since the start of this blog, it's still a rare occasion that I say to myself, "Hey Miggle; you're beautiful!" I might think of myself as cute or funny-looking in an endearing way or pretty. But I don't often think "beautiful" in my head. Here, though, I think to myself, "Yep, you're a pretty chunky lady, and that's definitely a big part of your beauty."