#fatshamed at the gas station

I won’t lie. I was fat-shamed a great deal growing up. Even when I wasn’t fat. (Apparently in the 80s having hips and tits made one “fat”). It’s hard to overcome, thankfully as an old lady, I’m learning to love myself as is.

Today, I was fat-shamed “COMPLIMENTED” at the gas station.

Me: Minding my own business, pumping my own gas
Obnoxious Asshole (OA): You’re brave for wearing that*.


* “that”

Me: (looks down at “that”) Really? Why?
OA:  I mean, for a woman of your size?
Me:  I don’t understand, can you explain?
OA:  It’s a compliment! I said you look good!
Me:  Did you? Because that’s not what I heard.
OA:  You don’t have to be such a bitch about it.
Me: Don’t I?

Here’s the thing, I need to lose weight. I know I do. But I’m working on loving me for me. Who I am on the inside and accepting who I am on the outside AS I AM now.

So when you call me brave for DARING to show my soft belly, I will shame you by feigning ignorance and force you to explain yourself. And if you can’t explain yourself without getting defensive or “mansplaining” you meant it as a compliment when it clearly wasn’t, then you should consider yourself brave for having opened your trash mouth in my vicinity.

I’m not brave. I’m fierce. And you’re a fucking waste of oxygen.

Sparkle on, bitches.

2 thoughts on “#fatshamed at the gas station

  1. Me at post office…….Youre aware of post office boo who NORMALLY oogles me and grunts and moans while he tells me Im sexy decided the other day to drone ON AND ON about how Im too skinny, I need to eat, I have pencil legs. I said I do eat, Im aware Im skinny and to the pencil legs I just said thank you and kept walking. Maybe he’s mad Ive never accepted his gross sexy offerings, maybe his 108 year old Miata driving ass doesnt remember he normally drools over me I dont know but I didnt let him make me feel bad. I looked cute no matter how thin I am. Good on you that you did the same. We ARE beautiful dammit!!!!!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Your response to him is perfect! I wish I could remember this line of thinking when I am met with ignorant commments, such as, “What did your parents think of [your husband]?” Even though I knew that question dealt with our ethnic differences, I also feigned ignorance and carried on with the truth, ‘They though I was too young, but he loves me, and I him, so they love him, too.”


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