Your pal Plummy was up all night doing important things (definitely NOT Googling “Xabi Alonso shirtless” and slurping her way through an undetermined number –which may or may not be four– of coco paletas while petting her dog with her foot) and my dander is now officially in the upright and locked position.
I’m a grown up, I pay damn good money for the insurance that includes vision so when I look in the mirror I know exactly what I see. I see two strong legs, broad pale shoulders, a mysterious bruise that frankly asks more questions than it answers, and I see fat.
Can’t I just be fat? How is that such a bad thing?
Why do we skirt coyly around the word? It is like Voldemort now? (I was going to ask “is it like Bloody Mary now?” but I don’t know how many damn times I said it in the mirror, a cocktail never appears). It’s not like we’re going to be magically unfat if we describe ourselves as “fluffy” or “more to love” or whatever cringe-worthy term allows us to not use the F word.
It’s just a word, and to me it’s a lot less embarrassing to be fat (which is to say not embarrassing at all) than it is to be Grown Damn Woman who can’t look in the mirror, call it how I see it and move along with my day.
I say away with the euphemisms.
Not just because it’s embarrassing to be afraid of a three-letter word, but it’s also taking some of our best adjectives away. Curvy = Fat. Voluptuous = Fat. Oh and don’t even get me STARTED on the term BBW, I might pop that weird little pulse-y vein in my forehead and I just used my last Band Aid to cover up a paleta stick splinter.
What do you think? Am I being unreasonable? If you don’t use the term fat what do you use instead? Why? Put it in the comments.