Heads up loves, I do a lot of talking about my body weight and disordered eating in this post. If this is a topic you’d rather avoid, feel free to skip this post! Of course, this post is based on my personal experience, and shouldn’t be taken as a blanket generalization. Now, onward!
I’ve been fat my whole life. Save for one period in college where I starved and exercised myself down to a size 10, I’ve been fat my whole life.
Some of that time, I’ve been a Good Fat. I’ve exercised and eaten well, turned down birthday cakes and opted for carrot sticks. I’ve hated my body and made overt efforts to change it. And I was applauded for it. Society says that in order to be a Good Fat, you have to be actively changing your lifestyle. It’s fucked up, honestly. If you eat a burger as a fat girl, people look and think that’s the reason your ass looks the way it does. If you eat a salad, you’re either lauded for “being so good!” or people think you should just have that burger because obviously the salad route isn’t doing you any good. When I was in college, I survived on soup and Triscuit crackers, indulged in cereal once in awhile, and exercised for an hour every day at minimum, and I was congratulated for being so healthy. I couldn’t have been living on more than 1,000 calories a day, but the praise I was getting was hard to ignore. So I stayed hungry and tired and over exercised. Being a Good Fat is hard.
I’ve also been a Bad Fat. I’ve indulged in ice cream at the county fair, I’ve admitted to doing nothing over the weekends on Monday mornings at the office. I’ve made no apologies for a body that society says I have many different reasons to hate. But it’s hard to avoid the constant thin-centric media, weight loss commercials, latest fad diets, and self-deprecating body talk around the water cooler. Granted, eating whatever I want usually ends up making my tummy hurt, or giving me heartburn, or even giving me headaches when I overdo it on caffeine. I feel guilty and judged whenever I put anything in my mouth, regardless of what it is. Being a Bad Fat is hard.
Sex and my weight are inextricably linked. Being thinner made me more self-conscious than I’ve ever been, even now at my highest weight. It made me more aware of my body, and not in a good way. It made me more critical because I could suddenly see all the things that had changed, and the things that had yet to be altered. It’s like when you clean the bathtub and then notice how dirty the sink is now that you’re not focusing on the bath anymore.
Fat sex is different. Logistically, it’s different. You have to find the best position, you have to move your ass fat out of the way, you can’t do that one position you’ve seen lately because your tummy gets in the way. Having your partner on top is a rare thing because it gives you heartburn. Face-sitting is out of the question because you’re afraid of smothering your partner. There’s more planning when you’re incorporating bondage because do we have enough rope? My body takes up more space and eats up rope like none other. There’s anxiety around whether or not that collar and cuffs will fit.
Then again… my fat sex is more enjoyable than my thin sex. I like fat sex better to be honest. Because with thin sex, there was a lot of questions floating through my head around whether or not this angle was good for my tummy, or if that motion made my thighs jiggle in an unappealing way. But fat sex? There’s no question… like, I AM fat. My tummy DOES look pudgy from that angle, because it is. I don’t have to worry about my partner spying a bit of cellulite, because it covers my thighs. There’s actually less body anxiety for me. Not for everyone, but for me.
Is it weird that being fat has made sex more enjoyable for me? It lets me let go a little bit, because I’m not constantly criticizing my body. There’s no question of how I look. So I can focus, for once. I don’t have to hide. For me, fat sex is better sex. It’s not flawless, by any means. But it’s better.
I need to redefine the Good Fat for myself. Taking care of my body, but not hating it. Eating well, but not being afraid to indulge once in awhile. Exercising, but not having a panic attack if I miss a day at the gym. Enjoying the way my body looks when I’m on top. Trusting that our bondage can work on my body. Accommodating my body during sex. Enjoying my good, fat sex.
I’m gonna go buy some more rope.