User Submission: How I Became A Fat Acceptance Ally
Content warning: Fat fetishing, rape, fatphobia, kink, sex, emotional abuse, toxic relationships
Normally, I would never put the words of an ally before the words of someone in an oppressed category.Â
However, I received an anonymous submission from an ally about their journey to the fat acceptance world that really intrigued me, mostly because they started from a place of horrible fatphobia- specifically, fat fetishing.
Now, for those who don’t know, a fat fetish is when you are sexually attracted to the idea of fatness, and to the stereotypes surrounding fatness- overeating, for example. Some fat fetishists have their partners eat a lot of food while they watch, encourage or even demand weight gain in their partners, etc. However, some are subtler in the way they fetishize fat people, to the point that they don’t realize they have a fetish and not a preference.
We don’t talk about this type of fatphobia as much, but it is really harmful and uncomfortable for a lot of fat people.
That being said, I’ve met a lot of fat people who get angry when you talk about why it’s harmful; they felt personally attacked, because in their mind, a fat fetishist was the only type of person who would ever care for them, and by speaking about how it was wrong, you’re taking that person away from them.
This particular submission comes from a former fat fetishist. So, it’s being told from a place of privilege, rather than from the perspective of a fat person who was victimized. However, I find it really interesting, because it outlines the way fat fetishes are damaging and gives a sense of why the fat acceptance movement is so important.
I’ve edited pieces to help keep the person anonymous; if you know about whom this story is , please do not tell anyone who it is, do not go after them,  do not do anything that could hurt the person. I know it seems weird to be protective of an ally this way, but I prioritize the safety of all our followers, allies included.
Here is our anonymous submission:
I originally came into fat positivity from the fetishism side of the fatosphere. I’ve never totally forgiven myself for it, because I used to be pretty legitimately awful. Like, no matter how much evidence I could dig up that I’ve ditched objectification for wanting representation and safety and spreading encouragement, there’s always some little part of me that’s like, “Yeah, but you didn’t used to be like that, and that bastard’s still lurking around in you somewhere, probably.”
Pretty much right when I noticed I was attracted to girls, I noticed I was specifically attracted to fat girls. There’s no real explanation, no “trigger scenario,” it’s just how it’s always been. Big girls draw my attention more easily than small ones, and it’s just how I work; how I’m wired. When a more overtly sexual side to attraction started rearing its ugly head–stupid hormones–I went looking, and rapidly found myself deeply entrenched in the world of fat porn. For a while, all was well.
I was a simple asshole of simple tastes, reeling in disbelief that such a thing was available and not really stopping to think how it might be affecting my mindset.
A girlfriend came and went. After the breakup I just kinda threw myself into that shit even deeper.
Before I knew it, I was 100% a grade A creep.
There is a part of my life I refer to, perhaps hyperbolically, as The Dark Years. These were them.
I was absolutely drowning in fat porn. I was part of forums. I had several fake relationships with several girls that existed strictly so I could grope at them and tell them I loved them when I did not. I had a cam relationship with a woman who was cheating on her husband with me.
And I had convinced myself that it was what I wanted, who I wanted to be.
I didn’t care that they were people. I just cared about what I could get. I just cared about how many few-minute endorphin rushes I could get.
It started to fall apart.
My psuedo-girlfriends talked amongst each other and did the math.
I deservedly lost a few friends.
The cam relationship got guilty and backed out, and I wish that had been me instead.
And an opportunity for another actual girlfriend came along, a real relationship, and I wanted to be a better person for them.
And for three years, I completely forgot about it all.
[I] tried to go back, but this time, something was different.
It all felt really gross.
It didn’t make me happy.
I couldn’t just ogle; I didn’t feel like I had permission. I felt like I was exploiting something.
A lot of people on forums started to seem like assholes.
I was seeing really ugly parts of myself reflected in a lot of other people in that community.
The breaking point for officially leaving was in a forum thread.
A [fat] fetish porn personality had died, pretty young. I don’t remember who. I wish I did. The thread grieved briefly, and then was already talking about someone else within ten posts.
This is pure. Unadulterated. Motherfucking. Bullshit.
A fucking PERSON who worked their ass off just so you fucks could jack off every night and you don’t even actually care she died because there’s always someone else.
At them. At me. At what I would later recognize as the patriarchy. All of it.
After that I started to notice a key thing:
Fat people, especially fat women, are treated like absolute shit outside of fetish circles. (And let’s face it, inside them, it’s a pretty shallow “good treatment”).
I had always kind of noticed fat-related bullying on my radar. And I always was like, hey, that’s wrong, even if I didn’t stand up for it.
But it changed from “Hey, that’s wrong because I think she’s attractive.”
To “Hey, that’s wrong,” period.
That person didn’t do a damn thing to you besides be fat. And no one can be fat at someone.
Eventually I started getting into the fat-positivity side of things, though it was a weird start. I came onto it when fat positivity stuff on the internet was still fairly new, and a lot of it was intermingled with some of the less toxic, but toxic nonetheless, fetish communities.
(I should also probably clarify at this point that I’m not anti-kinks. Everyone with a sex drive has kinks. The difference is in how much you let it control you and your behavior, how much you define yourself by it, how you participate in it. And communities for some of them can often be very toxic places even if some of the individuals aren’t. That said, I’m not saying that to give any creepers an easy out.)
Regardless, I started getting into that, instead. Rudimentary at first, but I found more resources slowly. I craved allyship. I changed goals.
I didn’t want to objectify fat girls anymore–I just wanted them to feel like people. I wanted them to have friends who had their back. I wanted them to feel every bit as gorgeous and valid as the copypasted mannequin bodies you see in every form of popular media stretching from here to the fucking sun. I wanted them to have access to clothing options that weren’t muumuus or stretch jeans.
I guess I sort of wanted bits of that back in the creep days. But only so I could have equal-access oogling.
Instead of because it’s something that’s fucking needed.
Instead of because fat people ARE PEOPLE and should feel like people.
So, me equipped with fat positivity 101 continued on for a while.
Another girlfriend happened. This one happened to be fat.
According to her, I was the first person she’d ever dated who hadn’t liked her in *spite* of her fat, or *because* of her fat, but liked HER. *Including* her fat.
It was a pretty radical concept to her.
She had to deal with a lot of fatphobia at home, on top of that. Her mother constantly and bluntly took shots at her weight. She never directly called her ugly but she may as well have. So I was a safe space for her to just…be fat.
…until I brought her home.
And found out my own mother was *also* pretty fatphobic. She said horrible things. Never to her face, but still. I passed them on, because she [my girlfriend] asked.
My mom and I were fighting about it almost every day. She was insistent that I was “settling,” or that I “couldn’t have known she’d looked like that when we’d first started talking.” That she’d “disappoint me” because she’d “die young.”
I didn’t have the arguments I have now to fight her properly. I wish I did. I’ll be readier if there’s ever a next time, at least.
That girlfriend initiated the breakup just so my mom and I would stop fighting. She didn’t feel it was worth it.
All the fights had shaken me up a lot too–I’d carefully built this nice little fat-positivity fort and she just sort of kicked it all down. I was questioning a lot of things. It got to me. And in turn, so did the now ex.
Eventually, she decided it was all lies and bullshit.
She ranted at me for filling her head with lies and pretty thoughts.
Her life kind of trainwrecked.
She got with a blatant fetishist, tried to get into kink porn, gained a staggering amount of additional weight way too fast, developed health complications from the means by which she did, and finally, at her mom’s urging, got fucking weight loss surgery.
So, her mom’s finally happy at least. I guess.
I slowly tried to rebuild my little fat-positivity fort. It was getting back to something reasonably solid.When I became entangled in a…very toxic relationship.
I had started to get into fat-positive art.
And this girl- who wielded way too damn much power over me- decided no, it was still kink art. And I should stop.
(I’ve had other sources tell me it wasn’t.)
She seemed to think that any depiction of a fat girl constituted kink art, really. She also insisted that I wasn’t really any better. Because if I was [better], I wouldn’t have a preference, especially not such a strong one. To her, preference was also conflated with kink.
I didn’t want to argue.
She had a lot of ammo for blackmailing me. And though I didn’t recognize it at the time, I was still sorting through a lot of emotional trauma, since she also, um.
As a result, I just didn’t do art of…any kind, really, for almost a full year. I didn’t want my art to hurt anyone. I never have.
We eventually parted ways, and if I ever see her again it will take all my strength not to clock her.
Away from her influence, I was able to heal again.
I started studying this stuff more deeply. Got books on it. Tumblr happened. Communities on tumblr happened. I’ve been able to meet people through here and make some sort of difference. Produce art that represents them, or if they live near me, hang out with them, befriend them, be someone they can vent at about fat harassment or injustice. Be someone who has their back for this stuff. Be someone who treats them like a person.
I’m finally getting to slowly become who I want to be in regards to this stuff.
A big culmination of that was actually at an art show I was at a couple months ago. It was, no exaggeration, the happiest weekend of my life so far.
I was waffling for a while on whether or not I should include some distinctly fat-positive designs amongst my stuff. I decided fuck it, took the risk And the response! Oh my gosh. Some people cried. Good tears.
I remember a wife excitedly yanking on her husband’s sleeve, barely able to contain herself, bouncing, going “Honey! They have Venus of Willendorf stuff!”
I remember a shy girl panicking when I was packing up on the first day because she thought she was too late to buy a [*insert name of the artwork here*] print and she’d been working up the nerve all day. When I sold it to her, she whispered, “You’re the only person here selling anything with chubby girls on it.” There were tears in her eyes.
There were plenty of people who gleefully held up some of the stickers and went “it’s me!” There was a girl who bought like six of one of my one explicitly fat-positive button design, “one for me and one for a bunch of friends.” People are hungry for it.
And I’m starting to see it come around in media. I will never be as thirsty for it as my fat sisters who this is all for, but I’m damn thirsty for all that representation too.
And we’re finally getting it.
Ghostbusters (2016) didn’t contain a single fat joke. Gabourey Sidibe is still landing roles. The first issue of Valiant’s “Faith” miniseries BROKE COMICS HISTORY RECORDS (I’m a big comics nerd) and the miniseries as a whole did well enough to net the character an ongoing series.
It’s part of the future. We are slowly, finally, building to that future.
Where “fat” is just a neutral body adjective like all the others.
Where the idea that a four-year-old would be considering a diet is barbaric.
[We have a] long way to go, but it’s GETTING STARTED.
And that alone has me excited.
I just love the way this person wrote their story. It’s super eloquent and beautiful, even if parts of their history are not.
I’m curious, how did you all get into fat acceptance? How has the media affected your opinion of fat people? How hungry for fat representation are you? What kind of media do you want to see in the future?Â
