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What I’m getting at is something much more fundamental. Several months ago I was in a bar/lounge type spot, with a group of 7 or 8 homegirls.Because desire is socially constructed (no matter how much folks justify their limited dating choices based on ‘natural preference’), the fact that we live in a fat-hating culture greatly affects who we’re attracted to, and what we find attractive. We ranged in size and skin tone, from short and petite, to tall and lanky, from light-skinned to dark-skinned, from skinny to fat (me being the fat one), and everything in between. My girl gave us his vital statistics and it turns out the brother is highly intelligent and very accomplished. This I discovered, as I watched him at different points during the evening, strike up a conversation and flirt with every single girl in the crew—except me.So posts like this make folks uncomfortable, often leading to three kinds of reactionary (and unhelpful) comments. Even though we all have insecurities, self-confidence is not my major struggle.The first will be from those folks who insist that I must really have low self-esteem about my weight and that it must be coming through to the dudes I’m meeting. The only way to live in my body, doing the work I do, is to be confident.I also have both short and long term goals for doing so. So please save the condescending lectures (and arm-chair therapy) for someone else.This big girl (and I suspect every other big girl with access to a TV) doesn’t need it. When I look in the mirror, for the most part, I like what I see.I like my curves, I like ass, I like my legs, I like my boobs (which I only have in abundance, when I’m tipping the scales), and I like my face.
They usually find us I know there is this myth in Black America that brothers like their sisters thick, thick like a luscious milkshake, that “brings all the boys to the yard,” as it were.
The idea that we’re only attractive within a range of sizes is absurd. The homeboy of one of my homegirls happened to be in the club. My homegirl indicated to me at some point that I should make sure to meet him, because she thought we’d have similar interests.
Not one to be shy, I did at some point attempt to strike up a conversation. I mean he literally didn’t look me in the eye, made no real attempt at conversation, and pretty much gave me the brush off.
Those stories ring hollow, because they ultimately amount to a futile attempt to amass enough exceptions to disprove the rule.
Moreover, perhaps folks aren’t considering that the partner-less fat girls simply remain invisible to you, and the thick girls with guys are visible, precisely because they are an anomaly.Nothing can make me dance with abandon like a smoke-filled club strung out on CRUNK.