Bodily misfortune

More and more often I wonder about human nature. There is something profoundly wrong with us, when we let strangers decide how we feel about ourselves. And how we feel about ourselves, is accepted to be based on a set way of thinking what we should look like, according to a few wise guys with so-called authority and knowhow on the matter. This is not about bad haircuts or torn jeans, chains and nails or too much (or little) make up. We are measured and judged by our BMI, not by our actual looks. I don’t even mention personality here, cause that is, as far as I have understood, not relevant.

I have mentioned my own size here before, but just to remind you, or give you a quick update: I am a rather heavy girl, and I do not mean in the sense of what I am like being around; I am talking kilos.

To change that, I know I have to do something serious about my lifestyle: My dog should get a few extra kilometers’ walk every day, I should eat often and very small portions, I should be more active and perhaps even ride my bicycle to work… Cut to the core weight issues is all about too much in versus too little burned. And if you enjoy too much, well everything we do has consequences. Eating and drinking too.

Now, obesity is a huge burden for those who suffer from it, not to mention how their families are affected. Often frustration, feelings of powerlessness and depression eventually affect the daily lives of people with what is often referred to as "morbid obesity".

Those are the politically correct explanations to what it is like to be fat. The truth is that what really affects a person is not the risk of getting sick. The risk of future serious health problems is not something people really think about. If they do think about it, it is something which could possibly happen others, but not yourself. (Ask any smoker, and they will say that yes, they knew about the risk of getting cancer and other illnesses.  Yes, they chose to start anyway because it will not happen to them.)

The hassle of tying shoelaces, getting in and out of bus seats and cinemas with a trifle bit of dignity left when getting out of there, the constant worry of BO (think for yourself how much effort it takes to move 200 kilos contra 100) or missing a thorough embrace. Not to mention what it feels like to shop for groceries when every other customer in the store pay attention to what you buy and how much.

Fat people are never in commercials or films unless they are there to illustrate a diet of some sort, or they are portrayed as funny, clumsy, often unwashed hair or too much make up, with no true friends and no sexlife.

You know what I find offending about it? There is not one single voice out there who say: “How rude!”  In addition to everything else they have to struggle with, they are suitable for picking on; people are entitled to blame them for their own, bodily misfortune.

Why don’t we ring the doorbell and ask them to join us when we walk our dog? We should give them support and an alternative rather than use them for an excuse to rightfully bully someone.

Maybe it is so that normal size people need fat people to feel good about themselves?