Fat count sex dating
In that dark place, all we were was two bodies ripe for comparison.
It was scary how easy it was to judge myself against her, even in the middle of getting each other off. If I’d had some self-compassion at the time, I could have remembered that none of this is my fault.
Fat women aren’t allowed to be neutral about our bodies. A pale and pudgy fuck-you to the beauty standards I’m exhausted of being exhausted by.
The horrible thought that ran through my mind was that she’d reviewed my photos again and changed her mind. The way another woman’s body mirrored my own had brought me a sense of comfort before, but here I was with a woman more conventionally attractive than me. Her breasts were round and pert, but mine were unruly, drooping with weight. She had a little pale heart on her hip, a mark left by a sticker when she went tanning — the type of shit hot girls do, I thought.
And I, in that moment, did not feel like a hot girl.
I’d spent those years dating men, experiencing the sort of body shame only heteronormative romance can bring. Did he only like me because he has a fat girl fetish?
When I stopped feeling ashamed of my queerness, I thought I would stop feeling ashamed of my body at the same time.
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Amanda was hot the way the hottest girl in your high school class was hot.