I’m supposed to be on vacation. Supposed to be getting a tan, reading sci-fi and watching Grey’s Anatomy marathons on Netflix. But I check e-mail and social media twice a day, so this isn’t really much of a vacation. I’ve already clocked two hours of work today and I still have things to do.
Regardless, despite my personal vow to not get involved in a stupid internet debate on my vacation, I’m stepping into the “Fat Pagan” debate.
I am fat. F-A-T. FAT. I am not obese or Goddess-sized or heavy or any other term you care to use. I am fat.
My fat is my business, not yours. It’s between me and my doctor. This is my body and my life and I don’t have to accept anyone’s street corner critique of it.
Every so often the Pagan blogosphere goes off on some hand-wringing topic and right now it’s the old chestnut of Fat Pagans. What on earth are we going to do about Fat Pagans? You’d think we were vermin, rodents to be exterminated. Suddenly everyone is worried about how to deal with us, as if we causing issues for the community. As if you couldn’t hold a festival without a bunch of Fat Pagans ruining it. As if Fat Pagans were stealing your lunch money and beating you up behind the gym.
Get over yourself. Stop concern-trolling. Fat Pagans aren’t causing a problem for the Pagan community. We do not spread fatness like a disease. You can hug us without getting fat cooties. We are not trying to convert your children to the “fat lifestyle.”
At my thinnest, I was still technically overweight and had to shop in the fat section. A year of starving my body on 800 calories and four hours of exercise a day got me to 180 lbs on a 5’5″ broad-shouldered and broad-hipped frame. I could barely squeeze into a women’s size 20. Thank goodness I stopped or I could have severely damaged my heart and bones. I am in good health. I would like to be a bit more active, and I would like to shed a little bit of weight, but I will never fall into the normal weight range for my frame. Not going to happen. And that is my business. Not yours.