Breathing While Fat
scrappybadger August 31st, 2007
Don’t do it. Seriously. If at this moment you are both fat and breathing then just stop it. If not for yourself then for the rest of us. You are fucking everything up, and we don’t have enough oxygen to power that body of yours.
Every day. That’s how often my right to exist is questioned. Some days, most days, I fight it; I recognize the fear that is behind that message. I know that fat is hated and that everyone is afraid of being associated with that hatred, so most of the time I meet it with the same kind of disdain I have for misogyny, racism, or homophobia. Meanwhile, I’m working overtime not to internalize it. It’s like radioactive slime in a comic book. You see it coming and you know if it gets on you that’s it, so you run and you fight back at it trying not to trip, hoping that it doesn’t have the ability to sling itself in your direction. All it takes is one drop and you are done for, so you struggle and you run. Every day feels like that to me, like I’m constantly running, trying not to let the fear and hatred spewing in my direction get on me and work its way into my head.
I have to fight it because I’ve given in before, and it wasn’t pretty. It didn’t make me thin to hate myself for being fat. It didn’t make me feel good about myself, didn’t get me lots of dates, didn’t change my life for the better, and it sure didn’t make me healthier. No, the realization that I was a horrible person for being fat didn’t do anything good for me. And no matter how many times I went to the gym, berating myself for needing to go in the first place, life never got better. No matter how many times I threw up — in the bathroom when my roommate was out or locked in my bedroom, head hung inside of a trash bag, when someone was home — I didn’t feel better about myself. One year in college I would take my Walkman, loaded with angry music, and walk to the post office 4 miles away to mail my bills. I was exercising, and I screamed self-hatred inside of my head to the music in my ears. Despite the mad walking, I don’t think I ever really lost any weight, or if I did it wasn’t enough to make me remember.
So I know I can’t give in. Been there, done that, and it sucked. What sucks just as much is knowing that this is what I have to look forward to — a constant struggle to assert my right to sit here/eat/be comfortable/be liked/find clothes/fill-in-the-neverending-blank. The latest reminder comes in the form of airline tickets. I’ve been dreading it ever since I got the notice that my paper proposal was accepted to a conference too many miles away to drive. To keep the anxiety at bay I have told myself that I can back out. I can make up an excuse, I can lie, I can just say I’m not coming. The thing is, I really want to go.
I’ve only really travelled once. I was 16 and was able to go on a school sponsored trip to France and Spain. It was only 9 days long, and I don’t remember much about it, but I did it. I went somewhere. Other than that I’ve been exactly one state away in each direction except to the north. I’ve been two states to the north. Two very small states. I live, right now, 45 minutes away from where I grew up; 20 minutes from the hospital where I was born; 30 minutes from my elementary and high schools. My parents live in the same county they’ve always lived. All of my grandparents except one grandmother live in the same area they’ve always lived. My family doesn’t move, and they don’t go anywhere. Ever. That’s fine really, but it isn’t what I want for myself. I want to experience new places. It is fun and exciting to go someplace new.
Most of the time it’s a money issue for Piig and me. We can’t afford to go anywhere. In fact, we can’t really afford this particular trip, but we decided to do it anyway. We’ve given ourselves permission to spend money in order to build the beginnings of my academic career, and we’re secretly giddy about the idea that we will also get to go somewhere.
We are taking a big financial leap. That and the idea of flying – in a plane, where I can’t touch the ground, where I can’t even see the ground, where I’m trapped inside with no way out – is scary enough. The added pressure of extra seats, seat belt extenders, and fat hating passengers and flight attendants is making me really nervous. Our decision as of right now is to go ahead and book two seats for me. I’m afraid that if we don’t one or more of the airlines we’re flying will require that I buy an extra seat the day of the flight, and not knowing the cost of day-of tickets is just out of the question. I can’t run the risk of some outrageously priced last minute seat. To make matters worse, the blatant hostility exhibited by most airlines when dealing with fat passengers is unbelievable. Piig sent me a copy of Continental’s extra seat policy. I especially like the way they require that you be able to buckle your seat belt with one extension but are unable to tell you the exact length of the extenders available on the plane you are booking. Additionally, “the carry-on allowance is not doubled” despite the fact that I will be paying for two tickets. This presents a big problem for me. Where oh where will I keep all of my snack cakes, chips, soda, and that large cheese pizza that I’d planned to bring if I can only have one bag? After all, no fat traveller can be on a plane for more than 30 minutes without a supersized snack, right?
I’m frustrated and worried about travelling. Maybe I’d feel better if I boarded the plane wearing this t-shirt.
ooooh, beautiful! I love it.
But I’m going to be practical, for a moment.
From 2003-2005, I flew TONS. (Pun not intended but ha ha!) Three to five times a year, probably. Lots of fat women that I know have flown during that time, including one who is probably not heavier than me but I think appears bigger because she is also very tall, and no one else has been subjected to the second-seat policy. I have only gotten booted once, and that was Southwest, which is notorious. I was sort of verbally harangued by a ticket agent for Northwest last fall, but was allowed to board with my companion and had no other problems.
So exactly how big are you? (Email me about this if you’d rather.) If you’re “okay fat” (which I’m assuming you are, though that is an assumption) AKA under about 250 I feel pretty safe in assuring you that you will have no problems and won’t need the second seat unless you’re on Southwest (for whom I make no guarantees), particularly flying with a companion. (However, having a three-seat row just for the two of you might be nice!) If it makes you feel better to have it, by all means, go ahead–I’ve done that as well and it’s a good feeling, and the carry-on thing will probably be overlooked if you want to bring an extra bag and stuff it under the seat in front of the empty seat. I find carry-ons in that position to be easier to access as well, and also I can use the tray table of the empty seat, when using the one for my seat is out of the question. But the second seat is a serious financial burden on someone who’s burdened by the trip already. It sounds to me like you have some trip anxiety generally and so maybe that is making you take this issue more seriously than you need to. But again, that is based on my assumptions about your size, i.e., that you’re significantly smaller than me, which could be completely wrong. I have only known “supersize” women (over 300 or 350 pounds) to be actually subjected to second seat policies.
And last I knew, Delta had a reseating policy and no second seat policy so I always fly them if I can.
And have fun! I absolutely love traveling, seeing new places, etc. etc. Definitely have the wanderlust, though pretty much have given up flying since in the last year or two I seem to have crossed some line between “fat but let’s not mention it” to “omigod so fat we have to protect other passengers from her monstrosity.” Not that my body size or weight has changed, mind you. Different area of the country? More public attention brought to bear on the subject? Dunno. Anyway, keep me posted.
Oh and PS I’ve only ever used one extender and sometimes haven’t needed even that. The flight attendants have almost universally been kind and helpful about that when I just ask them directly for it, trying to slough off any shame or weirdness–just, “Could you bring me a seat belt extender please?” said with eye contact and a smile, and only one or two have been rude or brusque, and they were probably bitches to begin with, or having a bad day.
I sometimes even ask as I’m boarding, if I’m standing there in the stupid line by the cockpit waiting for everyone to put their carry-ons away because for some reason no airline has yet figured out to LET THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK BOARD FIRST. Asking when boarding has the advantage of keeping the seatmate’s nose out of it, unless s/he happens to be right in front of you in the line.
Anyway, blah blah, I am a fount of info on this topic, so let me know if I can help.
Amy, I’m so glad you read my blog! You are 100% correct about the trip anxiety. Travelling, though I always wish I could do more of it, makes me nervous. I suppose it is because I’ve done very little of it, so it feels really, really different, and I’m not always good with things being different.
So I worry about EVERYTHING. Oh, and I’m not fond of flying. Poor Piig. Ha!
As for the seat stuff, I’m somewhere in the neighborhood of 315 - 320. My weight is pretty evenly distributed, but I’ve got big hips… lots bigger than, say, Piig who has no hips at all.
Those plastic chairs at outdoor restaurants are out of the question and lots of older auditoriums/theatres/concert halls squeeze me in pretty darn tight on the sides.
I’m probably worrying about it way too much, but I’ve heard/read so many horror stories, ya know? It helps a lot, though, to hear that you’ve had pretty good experiences without too much trouble. And luckily we’ve been able to avoid Southwest. Most of the flights we’ve seen were Continental/Alaska Air/Northwest.
Do you find that sitting for so long is a problem? We’ll have probably two stops which is good for me because it will break up the time I have to spend stuck inside any one plane. I think the longest trip will probably be a little over 4 hours long. My knees get a little weird when I sit too long. In the past year even sitting through movies makes them ache some. It seems strange, but they are much happier if I stand on them for a few hours than if I’m sitting in an upright position for the same amount of time.
Hi, scrappybadger,
This is a great post, and I wish you the best of luck. I don’t have any tips that Amy hasn’t already offered. Doesn’t she just rock?
Happy travels!
I LOVE flying (other than the hassle-potential). I think it’s incredible to be up above the clouds. It makes me feel like I’m in that Joni Mitchell song, “Both Sides Now.” I love it. I hope you have a great time, and that it is easy, easy, easy!
Wishing you safety, delightful surprises, and lots of fun,
Yawning Lion
At last! someone else to comiserate with! They don’t make those seats wide enough, or those belts long enough. It’s all about money for the airlines, trying to cram in as many cattle-class passengers as they can.
Hey there! Well, my guess is that if your weight is mostly in your hips, you are more likely to be uncomfortable yourself than you are to be singled out by THEM. It seems to me that fat, to THEM, means either having a big belly, big belly plus big breasts, or just being big all over. Not that being uncomfortable is GOOD–but it’s better, in my mind, than being uncomfortable AND humiliated.
It’s really interesting to think about what makes someone register as FAT on someone else’s radar.
You will be fine with just one extender, I’m sure. If you sit next to Piig you can put up the armrest between you and that way the seat won’t pinch your hips so much. I bet she will let you share her tray table too.
Sitting for a long time can be problematic. I’m usually completely tensed the whole time trying to take up as little space as possible, so I can be achy afterwards. With your knees, it sounds like you would want to be on the aisle so that you could get up and walk around if/when you need to. I usually pick the window and just wedge myself in there for the duration so as not to have to worry about getting up and down for my seatmate(s) who INEVITABLY have to go to the bathroom 1 million times. But if you’re going to be getting up, the aisle sounds like a better pick for you.
And enjoy your trip! I think/hope it will turn out that the flight will just be a small part, a minor hassle in what will be a great experience of meeting new people and seeing new things and broadening horizons. I think about how much my world has expanded since I’ve been traveling and have driven across the US twice, not to mention living somewhere so different from what I am used to. I now feel like a resident of a *continent* instead of just one geographic area, and it’s pretty cool.
And may I just say, I reread this gorgeous post, and the beginning is just amazing! I have lost my voice lately, haven’t had faith in myself to tell it like it is, have become convinced that my problems and concerns are entitled whining, unlike the REAL problems some other people suffer. So I am SO glad you are writing things like this, articulating this stuff for the rest of us who don’t have the words for whatever reason, reminding us that it IS damn hard and unfair and often paralyzing and it sucks.