I’m fat. As in super fat, or morbidly obese. People are weird about this F word. They act as if I’m self-deprecating or unhealthy if I simply use the word fat to describe myself, but when I write about my body I want to make it very clear that I know I’m fat.
I want people to know that I’m under no delusions about my body because they are so weird about using the word “fat.” And despite the fact that so many people dispute my use of the word, plenty of others seem to think that fat people need to be told that we’re fat.
As if we didn’t know.
Watch: How to improve your daughter’s body image. Post continues below.
Fat is a loaded word, mostly because a faction of folks are intent on using it as an insult. But in my heart, I know that fat is not a bad word. It’s a human one.
And as long as I am talking about why I walk around naked at home like it’s no big deal, what I want you to first understand is that I am very, very fat.
My daughter is going to turn six in April and it still amazes me that she’s never commented on my fat body.
She’s never asked why I am bigger than other women. She’s never asked if she’s going to be fat like me. In fact, the only time I’ve ever heard her say the word “fat” has been uttered without negativity, and in the context of a fat cat on TV.
Whatever my daughter thinks about my body, she has yet to express any sort of sentiment that my fat body is not as good as other bodies.
I often wonder if her nonchalance comes partly from the fact that I walk around our house naked without expressing fear or shame.
When I was growing up, my mother was very puritanical about nudity. All nudity. Despite living in an all-female household with me and my older sister, she freaked out if either of us walked in on her when she was getting dressed, or if she walked in on us while we were naked.