When I look in the mirror, for the most part, I like what I see.
I like my curves, I like ass, I like my legs, I like my boobs (which I only have in abundance, when I’m tipping the scales), and I like my face.
But um, I’m not trying to date a dude with a fat fetish.
No hate on fetishes, but being the object of that particular one feels…Getting back to Big Boi, the reality is that Big Girls do need love. So as much as I resent the limited range of desire that it seems (Black) men have and the ever-present male privilege that allows them to never have to interrogate their sexual and romantic investments, I hate my limited partnering prospects much more. ) In my thirties, I’m prioritizing self-care and that includes being loved on and getting my groove on. And I know for sure that those things are feminist.
So posts like this make folks uncomfortable, often leading to three kinds of reactionary (and unhelpful) comments. Even though we all have insecurities, self-confidence is not my major struggle.
This big girl (and I suspect every other big girl with access to a TV) doesn’t need it.
But what I call thick and what the average brother calls thick is not the same thing. (Sister looks fabulous, by the way.) Not quite Gabourey Sidibe thick. And when I was doing the online dating thing (I’ve tried it twice, and I’m taking a break) I saw one brother that specifically said, “I’m not into the Mo’Nique thing, ladies.” Translation: No fat girls need apply.