Bridesmaids

I went to go see a movie with the Husband last night. Had what was a quintessential "fat girl" move experience. First of all, I like to sit in the back row middle. It's usually empty, and I hate people sitting behind me (personal quirk not related to size) That row was taken as they had put the film in the "small theater." You know the one; the theater half the size of the rest where they put movies they don't expect to be well attended.

Back on subject.

I had to sit in the middle of the theater, surrounded on each side by people. Minor inconvenience right? Wrong! Theater chairs in older theaters are smaller, and the cupholders don't retract, so I spent the entire time with cupholders digging into my side painfully to avoid encroaching on my neighbor's space.

The next indignity revolved around the character development in the film. There was an assortment of characters within the bridal party, all of which fill various "supposedly" humorous stereotypes. But the one that stuck out to me was the obligatory fat girl. All of her jokes revolved around her weight and sexuality. At first stereotypical glance she is presented as a classic lesbian. Dresses butch, loves dolphins, husky manners; but then she exclaims she is going to climb a random man like a tree, and we are once again on "safe" heterosexual turf, and her sexuality is now only a joke because, of course, fat chicks don't have a sex life! Everyone knows that!

Throughout the rest of the film, she is repeatedly presented as being sexually insatiable, stupid, and socially awkward, all of which hang on her size as the catalyst for humor. The only redeeming moment for her is a heart to heart she has with Kristen Wiig's protagonist character about her high school life and how difficult it was. Then it's right back to the fat girl jokes.

The most upsetting point of the film was for me a short (and wildly unnecessary) clip of her and her boyfriend having a sexual encounter...which involved food...lots of food. The audience reaction to the scene is a classic example of why I have begun writing this blog. They were grossed out and amused by the scene. They squealed, and said ewwww, and the man sitting next to us said "I don't want to see that, she's disgusting." not "that's disgusting," no, "SHE'S disgusting."

I had to wait for the theater to clear out before I could get up and leave, because I cried a little. I felt ashamed because the husband and I were on a romantic date, and I knew after being reminded for two hours straight that fat girls' sexuality is a joke, I would no longer be in the mood.

How I came to this point.

       I am sick of dieting. I have been dieting, feeling guilty for not dieting, cheating, being "good," being "bad," binging, starving, resolving, breaking down, feeling great, feeling miserable, and ultimately hating myself in the pursuit of a normal weight for the past ten years.

      I am exhausted. Therefore I have decided I am going to get off this merry-go-round of self loathing and start to practice a little more of the feminist ideals I preach.

     I realize this is not going to be an easy ride to get off of, but I am resolved to achieve some sense of peace about my body, and to treat it like the holy vessel for my soul that it is.

      My first order of business is going to be to relax and eat what I like. I am not going to count calories or servings, weight, or size. No rules, no buts.