When I saw a post on Carolyn’s Quest, titled Fattest Girl in the Room, I was immediately reminded of that post I wrote a year ago and I went off to find it and read my words from back then. WOW, what a difference a year makes. No my body hasn’t shrunk tremendously but my attitude has changed dramatically.
The Fattest Woman in the Room
I have a little game that I play when I walk into a room. I scan the room and look around to see if I’m the fattest woman in the room. Typically I am.
This goes back to when I was in grade school and we’d have scale day…you know the day when we’d have to march down to the nurses office and get weighed in and the nurse would appoint the boy with the biggest mouth in the school to be in charge of recording the weights. Alphabetically I was towards the end of the weigh in and I’d listen so carefully to each weight being called out, I could always count on one boy to weigh more than me but I was always the biggest girl. The stress and anxiety would build up as I listened and hoped, memorizing everyone’s weight. Tears would well up in my eyes and I’d think “why do they have to do this” I remember skipping weigh in day many times, I’d tell my Mom I was sick or I’d make her write a note so I didn’t have to weigh in front of the whole class. In the 8th grade I skipped weigh in day and I still remember the sympathetic principal Sister Francella saying to my teacher Sister Catherine, “she doesn’t look like she weighs 200 pounds does she sister?” Of course I was the bane of Sister Catherine’s existence. I was the child of the “divorcee” not just once divorced but TWICE divorced. Was there any bigger sin in 1980? No, I was going straight to hell with my sinning Mom, of that I was quite certain and reminded of daily by the good Sister. It was the beginning of my body image distortion. Looking back, it was the start of my dysfunctional relationship with food.
I still play this game when I walk into a room. I scan the room, looking to see who is bigger than I am:
In corporate educational seminars, the smaller fat girl would always come and sit next to me. I’m sure she made herself feel smaller by sitting next to me or maybe she felt certain I wouldn’t bore her with talk of my latest workout routine. Of course with these seminars came lecture halls and conference rooms, often with tiny chairs that didn’t fit my oversized behind. So along with scale fear, I had seat fear and biggest woman in the room fear. Oh and because lunch was always served at these corporate functions, I had food fear because I was always on a diet and the food served never fit in with my strict eating plan so I’d end up “blowing my diet” and eating what was provided only to let the self loathing and disgust take over and send me on yet another binge.
At social functions, again, my eyes would scan the room looking for someone bigger than I was. I very rarely found her. When the room was particularly crowded I tried to make myself invisible. If the room was crowded, I’d try to push myself as far into the corner as I could so I wasn’t in anyone’s way. Of course this would keep me from the food at a party but no worries, I’d be sure to hit a fast food place or two on the way home. At the party I’d sit in the corner and not move. I’d didn’t want to give up my comfortable seat, the one carefully chosen to support my body weight. What if the only chair available when I returned was one with arms or worse if outdoors, one of those dreaded little plastic chairs? I’ve broken quite a few of those things in my life. I’ve come to loathe the sight of them. There are so many outdoor restaurants where Ken would love to dine, sit and enjoy the view of the ocean but we can’t. My butt can’t fit. So he misses out because of me.
At the grocery store the other day, Ken saw me looking at a woman and he whispered in my ear “yes, she is bigger than you are” He knew what I was thinking without opening my mouth. My eyes immediately looked into her cart to see what she was buying. At least I wasn’t buying junk food, at least not in front of my husband. I’d buy the junk food when he wasn’t around. It was something I’d keep in my desk drawer at work or in my brief case or computer bag. I even kept oversized zip lock bags on hand to hold my giant bags of M&M’s or chocolate covered peanuts. I wouldn’t want melted chocolate everywhere or worse M&M’s falling out in front of a colleague or client.
When I see a news story about a flood and they have to rescue people from the tops of their cars and from trees and hoist them up in a basket attached to a cable and into the helicopter I think about how I’d never fit in that basket. I think about how I’d die on that rooftop because there is no way that basket and cable could support my weight. I remember a few years ago there a soccer stadium had a collapse and people were crushed. They showed people pulling others to safety…who would be able to pull my 400 pound body to safety? I am amazed at how much thought I’ve given these scenarios when I see them on the news.
Then there was the sporting events. Those tiny little hard plastic seats. Going on the spur of the moment wasn’t ever practical or acceptable. No thank you I would NOT like FREE tickets to the playoff game because I have no way of knowing if my ass would fit in the seat. I’ve turned down many tickets for this reason. I remember one of my girlfriends had a sugar daddy who was trying to impress her by flying her and a bunch of her friends to New York City for a hockey game and a Broadway musical. I turned down the invitation for this free trip because of seat fear for the plane, seat fear for the game, seat fear of the musical, seat fear from the restaurant. For months I had to listen to all of my friends talk about what a great time they had and sing songs from that musical. But still it wasn’t enough to spur me on to lose the weight. Oh sure I’d try but eventually I just cut myself off from all of them, because of my weight and many other reasons too. I could have made new friends but I didn’t want to. I just wanted to be alone and eat away my pain.
So now you see why I need to lose weight? To fit in the chair, to be saved in a disaster, to simply not be the fattest woman in the room. You see, if none of those things kill me, carrying these extra pounds surely will. This is a matter of life and death.
Not much to ask for yet it feels like the world. It feels like a world away. I’m down 25 pounds and I have just a mere 200 and some to go. I WILL get there. I know I will.








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