TW: Fat used as an insult to add emphasis
It’s a line that reads as dramatic. Offensive. Controversy for the sake of controversy. After all, The Big C is a show from the tail end of the notoriously fatphobic 2000s. However, Cathy’s right, and Gay’s article brought this now iconic scene back to the forefront of my mind.
Fat people are not allowed to be human beings. That’s the long and short of it. Society does not allow them to be complex, fully-fledged individuals with thoughts and feelings of their own. Instead, fat people are only seen as one thing. Fat. Their weight becomes the focus of every conversation, even when it has nothing to do with what’s actually being discussed. As Gay so succinctly put it: “Fat, much like skin color, is something you cannot hide.”
My use of the third person makes it seem like I’m offering the perspective of an individual outside of this experience. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
From the ages of 5–18, I was considered morbidly obese. “Husky” clothes were the norm for me. Many of my family nicknames were related to being “chubby” and “gluttonous”, names that still follow me to this day. My mother would complain constantly about how quickly I was outgrowing the clothes she would buy me. Even though she never explicitly blamed it on my weight, I knew she wanted to. It wasn’t until middle school, though, that I truly felt the ostracism begin.
Fat is not considered “attractive”, at least within the white supremacist American framework we live in. Despite my living in a predominantly black community, that framework was still upheld. Middle school is where social hierarchies become inextricable from the rest of your life, and they’re especially shallow then because everyone’s still learning them. So guess what becomes the single most important thing to have during your adolescent years? Pretty privilege. Good luck trying to access that, fatty!
It’s impossible to describe the experience of growing up “fat” and “unattractive” to a person who grew up “healthy” and “attractive”. It’s rarely a dramatic, Carrie-esque nightmare, though that can be the experience of some. Rather, it’s exclusion in small ways. Being overlooked, teased, rejected, and seen as less desirable by my peers became so common to me that it started to seem… normal. Somewhere in 6th grade, I reached the emotionless determination that I simply didn’t have a chance. I would never find love. I would never be pursued. I would always be alone. What a fucked up conclusion to reach at the ripe age of 11, right? Even more odd, though, was the role I was now expected to fulfill: The DUFF. Or, Designated Ugly Fat Friend, for the uninitiated.
This is where we circle back to the titular quote. Anyone who grew up fat knows that you’re only allowed to be funny. If you want any kind of social standing amongst your peers, you must perform the role of jester. Anything other than that is a cardinal sin. Don’t get too bold though, piggy.
You’re only allowed to “jokingly” insult people fatter or uglier than you, cause guess what becomes the point of focus when you try to punch above your weight? Having a bad day and can’t be everyone’s comedian? Too bad, unless you want to learn that all of that social capital is conditional. That’s not to say you can’t have genuine friends, but you’ll very quickly get used to feeling invisible, even if you’re right next to them.
Just as developmentally important is young love. Or at the very least, romantic attention/experiences. …Should I hold in my laugh? That’s the point of being the jester. No one takes you seriously! You’ll yearn for the idea of being pursued, but the closest you’ll get is vicariously living through your friends. Confessions? Dates? Partners? Aw, that’s cute. Only people get to experience love. And you’re not a person. You’re a fat person. Who gave you the right to be multifaceted?
What’s left after the show’s over, though? When you’re laying in bed after another day’s work of distracting people from your body, even though you know it’s all they’ll ever see, what happens in your mind?
Don’t we deserve more than this?
Aren’t we more than our weight?
Am I not, too, a human being?
…
…
…
What, you thought you could be intellectual and fat too?
I think if someone dehumanizes another for being overweight, reduces them to an archetype that they must fulfill, they’re probably not worth knowing even if you’re skinny: This is reassuring because it means whether you’re skinny or not, there are people who will treat you like an actual person, and finding them is ultimately the work that needs to be done when looking for “close” or “true” friends.
There are those who will rebel against a fatphobic culture, and even skinny people would benefit more from surrounding themselves around those who don’t disregard others on the basis of weight.
I’m really sorry you had to experience that, it’s one of those “deep, inescapable, and depressing” experiences that can feel similar to something like a chronic pain, not that you need my sympathy, but nobody should have to go through that. There is a benefit to having the experience you’ve had, which is that you can empathize with others in comparable circumstances. You are (judging by your words) one of those “rebels against a fatphobic culture”, and are a force that works against those “deep, inescapable and depressing” subjugations.
I absolutely loved what you were saying here and it is incredibly relatable. Growing up fat has done a lot of damage to my perception on myself, and I believe it is why I still struggle with being my fullest self. When you’re fat, there are unwritten rules forced upon us by society—and it is almost ten times worse when you’re Black. Even with little things that should be normal, I’m not allowed to be. I can’t be quiet or shy, I can’t be smart, I can’t be attractive. Humor is the only thing it feels we are allowed to have, and if we aren’t funny then we become the joke rather than making the jokes. Fatness is equal to something separate than being a person, as you referenced.
In today’s society I would love to say that we are progressive on this issue, but I wouldn’t 100% be truthful. Are things arguably better than the 2000s? Yeah, but is it anywhere near where it should be? Not at all. I really do hope things change sooner. The pain I went through (and continue to go through) due to my weight is something I never would want for anyone, especially other young, impressionable people.