(Originally posted at BABble.)
I saw the quote in the title over in the comments thread in one of Kate’s posts over at Shakesville.
I am fat. Having someone try to make me anorexic when i was 4 or 5 pretty much guaranteed that i’d have weight issues my entire life. That sort of metabolism-fucking at such an early age causes all sorts of health issues.
I am also sick. The symptoms of endometriosis started within a year of my first period (which happened when i was 13). They got worse and worse. My first surgery was when i was 19. The fibromyalgia symptoms started when i was 18. It started with inexplicable tendinitis in all of my toes. Next were the mysterious backaches that plague me to this day: they wake me up in the middle of the night, so painful that it hurts to breath. I woke up with one of those this morning, and will probably have one tomorrow and the day after. Almost every day, since i was a teenager. I will be 31 in a few weeks. You do the math.
My chiropractor is the only reason i am able to walk on a regular basis. Several years ago, i had to call in sick to work because i got up out of bed and my legs collapsed under me. I once had a twelve-day migraine because the vertebrae in my neck decided to twist and turn in a way that was impairing the flow of oxygen to my brain.
Some people have tried to say that i simply have no pain tolerance. To them i respond: when you can sit in the dentist’s chair and not require Novocaine, you let me know. Until then, STFU and get the hell off my damn lawn.
I am not lazy. As a child, i was more sedentary than my brother (who lived for soccer practice), but i was still active. I used to ride my bike all over Chicago. I rode my bike to and from school – 16 miles round trip. Occasionally, i walked home from school – 8 miles. It wasn’t like i’d spent all my bus fare on choccies and chips: i rode my bike and walked because i wanted to. I had adequate reason to be an angry child, and whenever i was angry (which was often), i would get on my bike to blow off the steam.
So in the narrow-minded notion of “fat = sick or lazy”, it’s because i’m sick. Does that give me a “Get Out Of Fat Free” card? Does that mean if i wear a hat with a blinking neon sign that says “Fat Due To Sick”, people will stop looking at me as if i had no right to exist? Does that mean i’m suddenly worthy of respect?
For that matter: why is there shame associated with being sick? As if it’s a fucking choice? I chose this? Who in their right mind would choose this? For that matter, why on earth should i be ashamed? If anything, the amount of pain i put up with on a daily basis without giving in to it is something people have admired in the past. I would tell you to walk a mile in my shoes, but if you were in my shoes you wouldn’t be able to handle the pain that comes with that mile.
I’m not on drugs, i don’t drink, and i haven’t killed myself. I’ve considered all of the above as viable means of escaping this pain in the past, but not anymore. I like who i am, fat and pain and all. I am a good person who rescues stray cats and dogs. I am a loving and supportive wife. I am a good daughter. I hold down a regular 8-5 job, 5 days a week. I am a responsible member of society who pays her bills and taxes, does not participate in illegal acts, bathes regularly, has healthy relationships with friends and family, and i do NOT deserve your arrogant scorn or your condescending pity.
If anything, people who feel this way about me are the ones to be scorned and pitied for taking their mobility and freedom from pain for granted.
I am fat. I am sick. Neither of them are a valid excuse for treating me as less than human.