I’m fat.

Yep.

Damn.

Wow, it’s rather liberating to use the “F” word on myself without feeling incredibly ashamed.

I am also tall. And pretty well proportioned and relatively attractive and I dress in a stylish and flattering way. I dance and I sing and I have a general presence that’s difficult to ignore.

I have the luck (isn’t it sad to call it luck?) of being able to go through my day to day life doing as I please without being mocked for being fat.

Well, except that one time I was riding my bike and some kids told me I was too fat for my bike.

That stung.

But being fat isn’t what defines me. I’m also smart, funny, interesting, cute, energetic, engaging, compassionate, patient, kind, loving, and many other things that make me who I am.

I just happen to really like pizza.

But I digress.

I simply cannot understand why people seem to think that being overweight is the most disgusting and wretched thing you can possibly be.

I don’t understand why they think being fat makes you less of a human being.

Or that they are entitled to degrade and belittle anyone they see as fat. Like it’s a game. Like it’s a joke to be played on the fat person. Or like they need to be reminded that they’re fat.

“Oh! Hey you! Over there! Fattie! Did you realize you’re a huge fatass?”

No, dickwad, I didn’t. I was under the illusion that I was a size four. Thank you so much for putting me in my place. My God, for a moment there I almost had a self esteem or something. Thanks for saving me.

I have a friend. She’s kind and smart and funny and an amazing singer. She’s fat. She’s Butch. And in the summer she likes to ride her cute little scooter to and from work.

She shared a post on Facebook detailing an encounter she had with a young entitled man in a sports car who felt the need to follow her down her alley and harass her. Apparently he thought it was funny to chase her and call her names.

What hurt me was that this wasn’t the first time she’s had this type of experience. This wasn’t the first time I was reading one of her statuses in which she detailed how someone shamed her for how she looked while she was just minding her own business.

What have we done to ourselves as a society where we feel this need to torment each other based on our appearance?

Why is it acceptable to be everything but fat?

Why is fat the dirty “f” word we can’t bring ourselves to say unless it’s to hurt someone?

Why are fat girls the dirty little secret of so many men?

Fine you want to call me fat?

Go ahead.

But don’t call me boring. Don’t call me stupid. Don’t call me unimaginative. Or God forbid, don’t call me a bad singer. Dem’s fightin’ words.

We are cruel to our fellow man and it’s time we learned how to show a little love. There is too much hate, too much violence, too much sorrow– to go out of our way to cause pain.

So someone is fat. That’s their body, not yours. Shut up, and mind your own business.

As for me, I’ll see you on the beach in my super cute new bikini.