Skinny Bitch

I read this fantastic article on the Knockback website yesterday, a witty and self-effacing insight into a fat girls point of view, and the sheer disrespect she faces day to day from countless dickheads. It was funny and inspiring, and I think she’s amazing.

It says something about human nature that these cruel people caterwaul at big girls to tell them that they are fat, as if they are unaware of their own appearances.  And whether they are fat or not, what gives them the right to comment at all? We’re not walking fucking suggestion boxes. It made me think about how people decide what’s ok to say and what isn’t.

I’m innately thin. For years I struggled and fought to get my weight above 7 stone, sick of looking sick. I’d eat extra food and drink supplements between meals, but nothing helped, it’s just who I am. Someone actually once questioned me as to whether I was a vegetarian, on account of me looking ‘ill and anorexic’. Donna her name was. If you see her, punch her, won’t you.

You see, there appears to be a double standard here. As much as I’m sure that big girls get slurs about their weight thrown at them all the time and that it is surely damaging and horrible, at least all of us normal people with a brain in our heads know it’s fucking rude to call a fat person fat. But no one seems to have a problem calling a thin girl skinny. No qualms in telling me to eat a sandwich, or that I need a good feeding up. No don’t worry, it’s absolutely fine for you to tell me that you think a size 4 is revolting, abnormal. It’s ok for you to tell me no normal woman has a gap between their thighs, that a ‘thigh gap’ makes me disgusting and gangly, because I’m skinny, so it must be ok.

I don’t mean to sound like I’m up on a ‘skinny girls have problems too’ pedestal while I eat this, my second Crunchie bar of the day, but it just amazes me how people think its ok to push their sad little opinions onto others, carelessly, casually, cruelly.

We live in a society continually shifting with popular opinion, formed by a tidal wave of images that are thrown at us from a kajillion screens a day. Appearances matter, and every technological update comes with a brand new shiny look, immediately enviable by others. We’re not about to stop judging by appearance any time soon, there’s just too much of the world’s money invested in how stuff looks. And far too many channel 4 reality tv programmes scheduled. Amongst this onslaught we are increasingly asked to get involved, to connect via facebook, twitter, instagram, and have an opinion on everything, the comment box becoming an extension to the white van mans whistle. What used to be just us telling our TV set that Jordan looks a state, can now be shared with millions of people by way of a hash tag. The sheer ignorance and the true unkind nature of people that this has unveiled is terrifying.

I don’t buy all that bullshit about ‘It’s what underneath that counts’, or getting to know someone before you make an impression, because the truth is we all make presumptions. I’ll look at people on the commute home today and I won’t see their good nature, or hear their wonderfully contagious laugh, or notice their captivatingly sparkling eyes. I’ll see old man, fat girl, skinny boy. But the difference is, I won’t go up to the man and say, “hello, you’re old.” Not just because he’s a stranger and that would be weird, but because, what gives me the right to impress my opinion, so quickly formed from the briefest of encounters, into his psyche forever? Nothing does.  So whether you’re fat, or thin, or a man driving a white van, or stupid bitch called Donna, keep your mouth shut. We didn’t ask for your opinion, we’ve got enough of our own.


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