The Fats of Life Part 3

I can tell you in every mall in Christchurch where the seating areas are. Where there is a place to sit down that doesn't include the food courts/eateries (FYI South City has none) anywhere to lean to take the pressure off my back. Where the closest car parks are to entrances or exits to bus stops as well.

Not out of laziness, I don't want to avoid those few extra steps, I just can't make them. It's my back that hurts the most, a shooting pain straight across, getting tighter and tighter until it's constant and I can hardly catch my breath through the pain. My feet after walking will feel like they are burning if I put pressure on them, sort of like when you lose a couple of layers of skin and what's exposed is tender.

When I walk with my friend, I know I slow her down. She tells me it doesn't bother her in the least when I have to sit because the pain means I can't take another step. When sweat pours off my forehead making me look like a swamp monster, she's not embarrassed to be seen with me. She has seen the looks I get, the side-eyes, the sniggers, all those things that form the background of my daily life. I was so ashamed she had to see that, to see me as others do, for her to be judged by her association with me. I reflect badly on her and I hate that, but I love the fact she sees me. She doesn't pretend to not see me fat or that I have limitations, she accepts and makes accommodations for it without making it a big deal. If we were out eating she would purposely stuff her face and eat like a pig so people would stare at her rather than me. But I'm still just Amy.

I have had previous friends say "I just don't see the fat" or "I don't think of you as fat" thinking they were being kind. But it felt like they were trying too hard to show it didn't bother them, just saying all the right words.

Friends have said the worst part is "seeing someone they loved hurt themselves and possibly die young, worrying about the impact it has on their mental health, watching that person hate themselves and think they aren't good enough because of the way they are treated.

Even being able to do something as simple as going to a restaurant requires research. If it's someplace I have never been before it means I have to look it up and hope they have pictures. I need to see what kind of seating they have if I will fit if they have a car park, so I don't have to show up sweaty, out of breath and embarrass my friends. If it's somewhere I won't fit then I won't go, I will make an excuse and miss it, being too ashamed to explain why.

Being out with a group of friends, you feel like you can't be the first one to say you are hungry or ask for seconds because you are still hungry or if you're at a friends house feel like you can't ask for more food. Once I couldn't stop myself and I just kept eating bread, I was starving and couldn't stop myself but I felt so ashamed later and even apologised. I have been very careful since.

My mother told me "As a parent, you always worry about your child and their health" she meant me and my oldest brother Gavin who is also fat. Funnily enough, he has spent his whole life calling me fat, telling me I'm nothing, yet he's in the same boat, an odd sort of self-loathing maybe, but that's his journey.

My younger sister has called people out for their looks and comments towards me. But she has also had boyfriends and friends who have ridiculed me in our own home. They called me Moeraki Boulders. One even threw peanuts at me, because elephants like peanuts - very creative.

People who ridicule and comment, do it on face value, or fat value, that's all they see, because to them I'm not a person with feelings,

They aren't burdened with the memory of the words they say or their actions. I have been yelled at by countless cars full of people, I have seen them congratulate each other and laugh after taunting me. The worst is when one car, doing a u-turn and driving back to me just so they could throw eggs at me. They would never know or care what it cost me to laugh like it didn't matter when I showed up at work covered in egg because I had no time to go home and change.

School holidays are the worst for going out, nothing worse than a group of teenagers trying to be cool. I swear I wasn't that obnoxious at that age, little kids will comment but that's natural I think, little kids don't have a filter yet and it's up to the parents to teach them tolerance and acceptance of others

It does take putting on a sort of mental armour to go outside and do the things I enjoy and I don't see why I should have to give up my place in the world because I'm not aesthetically pleasing by today's beauty standards. Although I was once described as "not ugly, just fat". Not gonna lie though, I would love to be ordinary and forgettable, someone who blends into the crowd and can be in public without having to worry about what comments I'm going to get that day.