I ventured out in the cold of the southern hemisphere last night to see the quintessential girls’ movie of 2010 – Sex in the City 2. I won’t bore you with the details of my absolute disillusionment with the film, but rather explain to you how a terrible event left me very much on the other side of “the fat war”.
The war I am referring to is the one that us ladies battle most days when out in the world (as opposed to snug as a bug under the covers picking the choc chips out of our cleavage). My cousin and I were sitting quite innocently on the end of a wooden bench, chatting happily about the woes of wifehood when a rather rotund looking woman sat on the other end.
She spent some time rustling around in her bag looking for something, with pants that were riding too low round the back. Satisfied that she found what she wanted, she decided to settle in. My cousin and I became quite literally airborne, grabbing each other in the process, but once stationary again, found it quite hard to control ourselves. And when I say we, I really mean me.
I had enough sensitivity to roll my giggles into the retelling of a fictional story, but once the woman spotted her friend and left the scene, I was crying with the hilarity of it all.
And then it hit me – she was me. Or really, only a few stone from being me and is therefore quite likely to have the same excruciating experiences of being in the world at large, or is that large in the world?
Being thrown through the air without warning left me laughing at the shock of it. And if I am being truly honest, I laughed with the relief it wasn’t me. And when I heard my cousin chime in at the retelling of the story, “yes, she was quite a large lady”, I said nothing and felt like a traitor.
But if my cousin referred to her as quite a “large lady”, it must have meant that she was much larger than me and in that moment, this woman’s plight was not my own and I was relieved. I felt this woman’s embarrassment but preferred not to acknowledge it. Maybe that’s why women the globe over are so dismissive of larger women; they’re all just afraid that if they get too close, they might catch it.
And just relieved it’s not them…