I'm a fat chick. Used to weigh a lot more than I do now, but I'm still fat. I can just about buy the largest size in the normie section of clothing stores, and that is still a big success for me. Last week, my therapist told me I have an eating disorder and even though I talk to her about food and body image all the time, the term still caught me completely by surprise. Now I'm trying to just see this as a part of me that I have actually already come to terms with and just need to be extra careful not to allow it to rule my life. Blah blah blah. This is hard to express.
So, I just watched that certain episode of Louie while working out with the weights I asked for and received for my birthday a few days ago - I know, good girl
And it was the episode where Vanessa, the fat waitress, asks Louie out on a date until he gives in. And at the end of the episode she gives him this big speech about how guys who look like him never flirt with her because they are afraid that that would lower their periluous status. And she says that if she had just asked him to fuck on a giant can of peaches in the toilet he'd have gone for it, and that any woman can get fucked as long as she's willing.And I stand there, dumbbell in hand, crying like a baby. Okay, I apparently never was willing, but now I'm working on being more open to the idea of maybe someday being in a relationship (even though the thought is still scary) and now I learn my first time (I'm in my thirties, ahem) will be on a giant can of peaches? With a guy who won't even hold hands with me afterwards? Screw that! So now, I'm sitting here at my computer, still teary eyed, eating "healty" low fat yogurt cake for breakfast... without even looking at the spoonfuls I'm shoveling into my mouth, furious at Louie, myself and the world, until the container is empty. This is ridiculous.