Maura Kelly's blog article Should "Fatties" Get a Room? (Even on TV?) on the Marie Claire magazine's website in which she says:
...I'd be grossed out if I had to watch two characters with rolls and rolls of fat kissing each other ... because I'd be grossed out if I had to watch them doing anything. To be brutally honest, even in real life, I find it aesthetically displeasing to watch a very, very fat person simply walk across a room — just like I'd find it distressing if I saw a very drunk person stumbling across a bar or a heroine addict slumping in a chair.
it's tearing me up, and I don't really know why or how to stop it. I think I've read almost every one of the 2549 comments on the article (as well as the articles and comments on the "counterpoint" blog posts - and their comments too).
Even though most of the comments were critical of Maura Kelly (and many dowright hostile - more hostile than I personally feel), the comments agreeing with her are the ones sticking with me - reminding me that there are a lot of people like her, hating me and finding me disgusting just for existing.
I feel like I've been hit in the face with a shovel. It's taken me years to convince myself that I do have an unconditional right to exist (not only so long as I'm trying and succeeding at being slimmer), and that I was safe to swim, bicycle, walk and even just be in public, because no one was thinking all of the horrible things I imagined they were.
Then Maury Kelly proved me wrong - some people really are thinking those things. Some people are disgusted with simply at the sight of me walking across a room.
On one hand I feel "she's an idiot, and why do I care what she thinks," and on the other, I'm sitting here balling (and I usually don't cry), and it's not the first time since I read the article.
I was really excited about going to a Halloween party tomorrow night (decided on a Wagnerian Valkyrie costume, that I thought was pretty nifty), and now I'm afraid to go. It doesn't sound fun anymore.
This isn't me. At least it's not 44 year old me. This is 12 year old me.
Why do I care what Maura Kelly thinks of me? Why am I now afraid of all the Maura Kellys in the world, when I've spent so many years unafraid?
Before I read the Maura Kelly blog post, I can't remember the last time I felt like I didn't deserve to exist. Since reading it, those feelings have been washing over me over and over and over again.
I think I'd rather be hit by a bus than feel this way.
I know I'll get over this, because I am intelligent and emotionally strong, but I feel like I've been kicked in the face, over and over and over again.
I don't feel intelligent and strong, I feel sad and tired and I feel fatter than I've ever felt. Twice as fat as I ever was. It's been a really long time since I hated being me. I didn't think I could ever feel that way again.