what are big girls made of? (gotta love marge piercy)
It never ceases to amaze me, the gall that some men have in thinking that women's bodies are open fodder for their commentary. Granted I'm a little two-faced in my annoyance, because when the commentary is positive I'm more likely to be amused rather than appalled. But seriously.
So I'm in the bodega, just minding my own business, grabbing something to drink, and the creepy roly-poly bald-headed proprietor with whom I've been familiar since I moved here two years ago is stocking the cooler next to me.
"Hi sweetie," he says, "hello honey."
"Hi," I say, how are you?" We exchange a couple of pleasantries, and then...
"You used to be skinny...now fat."
"You think?" I reply, and walk away, marveling. I know that my weight fluctuates. I also know that it is at the higher end of that fluctuation right now. This is something that often escapes my attention since a) I have more important things to worry about and b) I have been significantly thinner for the past six years than I was for the previous six before that. gaining 10 or 15 pounds is really a minor thing to me in the grand scheme of life, and I know that it hasn't changed more than that in the past two years because I can still fit into the same clothes more or less that I wore two years ago. But still, there is the inevitable second-guessing, the wondering if everyone has been thinking this but is too polite to say it, the thought that maybe this is a needed wake-up call.
It's funny, when I was in korea I romanticized the u.s. in this regard. it is commonplace in korea for people to comment on the weight of relative strangers. I recall the students whom, after being called "pig teacher," I had to calmly inform that the typical american body type is a bit different from the typical korean body type. I recall the the middle aged man who told me "face little, pretty, but body big. diet! exercise!"
in these moments, I dreamed of new york, where, despite the occasional anorexic model, there is also an abundance of my fellow thick women who are proud and sure of their sexiness in clothes that accentuate their curves, of coney island where women of all body types walk around in bikinis without a bit of self-consciousness. it's not that I forgot there was judgment here. but the outward commentary is less common, and so tonight, it caught me by surprise.
I suppose I should appreciate the fact that I take it all with a grain of salt now, that things that would have broken my spirit ten years ago (maybe five, even) simply cause me a bit of pause and mild annoyance. and honestly, after the second-guessing and the self-doubt, my ultimate conclusion is generally fuck you, dude. I decided a while back that I wouldn't be a slave to someone else's notion of beauty, and I'm not going back on that. even writing about it, or talking about it, is a bit of a fuck you, because there's that catch 22, that idea that weight is supposed to be something you are always conscious of but never talk about, the elephant, so to speak, in the room.
fuck that, too. anyone who is ever going to truly know me is going to have to know that this is an issue I've dealt with all my life. I'm not going to apologize for that, and I'm not going to keep quiet about it just because it makes people uncomfortable.
so honestly, I suppose this guy did me a favor in a way, causing me to reaffirm all that. I guess all I really wish is that I'd come up with a better retort than "you think?"
So I'm in the bodega, just minding my own business, grabbing something to drink, and the creepy roly-poly bald-headed proprietor with whom I've been familiar since I moved here two years ago is stocking the cooler next to me.
"Hi sweetie," he says, "hello honey."
"Hi," I say, how are you?" We exchange a couple of pleasantries, and then...
"You used to be skinny...now fat."
"You think?" I reply, and walk away, marveling. I know that my weight fluctuates. I also know that it is at the higher end of that fluctuation right now. This is something that often escapes my attention since a) I have more important things to worry about and b) I have been significantly thinner for the past six years than I was for the previous six before that. gaining 10 or 15 pounds is really a minor thing to me in the grand scheme of life, and I know that it hasn't changed more than that in the past two years because I can still fit into the same clothes more or less that I wore two years ago. But still, there is the inevitable second-guessing, the wondering if everyone has been thinking this but is too polite to say it, the thought that maybe this is a needed wake-up call.
It's funny, when I was in korea I romanticized the u.s. in this regard. it is commonplace in korea for people to comment on the weight of relative strangers. I recall the students whom, after being called "pig teacher," I had to calmly inform that the typical american body type is a bit different from the typical korean body type. I recall the the middle aged man who told me "face little, pretty, but body big. diet! exercise!"
in these moments, I dreamed of new york, where, despite the occasional anorexic model, there is also an abundance of my fellow thick women who are proud and sure of their sexiness in clothes that accentuate their curves, of coney island where women of all body types walk around in bikinis without a bit of self-consciousness. it's not that I forgot there was judgment here. but the outward commentary is less common, and so tonight, it caught me by surprise.
I suppose I should appreciate the fact that I take it all with a grain of salt now, that things that would have broken my spirit ten years ago (maybe five, even) simply cause me a bit of pause and mild annoyance. and honestly, after the second-guessing and the self-doubt, my ultimate conclusion is generally fuck you, dude. I decided a while back that I wouldn't be a slave to someone else's notion of beauty, and I'm not going back on that. even writing about it, or talking about it, is a bit of a fuck you, because there's that catch 22, that idea that weight is supposed to be something you are always conscious of but never talk about, the elephant, so to speak, in the room.
fuck that, too. anyone who is ever going to truly know me is going to have to know that this is an issue I've dealt with all my life. I'm not going to apologize for that, and I'm not going to keep quiet about it just because it makes people uncomfortable.
so honestly, I suppose this guy did me a favor in a way, causing me to reaffirm all that. I guess all I really wish is that I'd come up with a better retort than "you think?"