For the love of goodness gracious, can we please stop assuming that plus sized people just flat out HATE skinny people? Can we get over this notion that I must look at every single skinny person I see and just want to strangle them? Because I don’t. Honest. I would have to be locked up for life if I strangled all the skinny people I encounter.
There’s this article that is getting a lot of shit right now in regards to the article writer seeing a larger, black woman in her yoga class, and she goes into this thought process of being suddenly aware of her skinny, white girl body, and how she could feel the contempt from this woman behind her and how, surely, this woman was noticing how skinny she was and feeling resentment and judging her.
Of course the article writer is just ASSUMING all of these things because SHE NEVER ONCE EVEN ATTEMPTS TO TALK TO THIS WOMAN! “Oh wow it must be hard being the minority in class,” but instead of trying to welcome her or something she just goes on these mental tangents of being suddenly aware of her all white yoga class, how hard that must be for the big black lady, how she looked so afraid to be there, how it must be terrible to see all these skinny white bodies, and just… UGH!
O.K. Sure. I’m not saying that these aren’t thoughts that plus sized people have, but STOP MAKING ASSUMPTIONS! Don’t look at me in this, “Oh wow. Her looking at my thin frame must be hard.” No. Stop thinking that every time I walk outside and see skinny, white people, I’m suddenly miserable. And goddamn, lady, if you really do have this huge epiphany and feel bad for the only black, plus sized lady in your class struggling through class SAY HELLO TO HER! Give her some tips. Some encouragement on her first day. SOMETHING! And by the way, yoga isn’t easy in the first place. You’re not going to get it your first try, so who knows, maybe she’s looking frustrated because it’s hard, not because, “Oh god I’m so fat and black,” but you wouldn’t know that because YOU DIDN’T EVEN SAY ANYTHING TO HER! You just sat there and assumed, “I know she hates me, if I say something she’s going to hate me more,” just… wow. How do you go from feeling bad for the only black lady to being like, “Welp she hates me so I’m not going to say a word,” and just… NO!
Again, I’m not saying that these insecurities don’t exist, but she literally puts these insecurities on this lady she doesn’t even know. She looks at her and thinks, “Wow she must be horrified to be here. She must be feeling so insecure, and her looking at me isn’t making it any better.” What. The. Fuck! What, you think saying that you’re wearing a tastefully, tacky sports bra somehow makes you sound less attractive so we’ll feel bad for you? Like, “Oh jeez, she’s skinny but she’s not dressed well so she has flaws, too, and it’s unfortunate that this new woman can’t see past her skinniness to notice that.” Really? Really?! You just spent the article talking about how you assume this woman is feeling these things simply from looking at you. Not just the entire class, but you specifically. Your magical skinniness is what all the big black ladies envy, you know. It makes us feel bad about ourselves and we hate you for it. Hiiiiiiiss.
The article in question is here. You have to love that title, right? Here’s the article in question: For the love of goodness gracious, can we please stop assuming that plus sized people just flat out HATE skinny people? Can we get over this notion that I must look at every single skinny person I see and just want to strangle them? Because I don’t. Honest. I would have to be locked up for life if I strangled all the skinny people I encounter.
There’s this article that is getting a lot of shit right now in regards to the article writer seeing a larger, black woman in her yoga class, and she goes into this thought process of being suddenly aware of her skinny, white girl body, and how she could feel the contempt from this woman behind her and how, surely, this woman was noticing how skinny she was and feeling resentment and judging her.
Of course the article writer is just ASSUMING all of these things because SHE NEVER ONCE EVEN ATTEMPTS TO TALK TO THIS WOMAN! “Oh wow it must be hard being the minority in class,” but instead of trying to welcome her or something she just goes on these mental tangents of being suddenly aware of her all white yoga class, how hard that must be for the big black lady, how she looked so afraid to be there, how it must be terrible to see all these skinny white bodies, and just… UGH!
O.K. Sure. I’m not saying that these aren’t thoughts that plus sized people have, but STOP MAKING ASSUMPTIONS! Don’t look at me in this, “Oh wow. Her looking at my thin frame must be hard.” No. Stop thinking that every time I walk outside and see skinny, white people, I’m suddenly miserable. And goddamn, lady, if you really do have this huge epiphany and feel bad for the only black, plus sized lady in your class struggling through class SAY HELLO TO HER! Give her some tips. Some encouragement on her first day. SOMETHING! And by the way, yoga isn’t easy in the first place. You’re not going to get it your first try, so who knows, maybe she’s looking frustrated because it’s hard, not because, “Oh god I’m so fat and black,” but you wouldn’t know that because YOU DIDN’T EVEN SAY ANYTHING TO HER! You just sat there and assumed, “I know she hates me, if I say something she’s going to hate me more,” just… wow. How do you go from feeling bad for the only black lady to being like, “Welp she hates me so I’m not going to say a word,” and just… NO!
Again, I’m not saying that these insecurities don’t exist, but she literally puts these insecurities on this lady she doesn’t even know. She looks at her and thinks, “Wow she must be horrified to be here. She must be feeling so insecure, and her looking at me isn’t making it any better.” What. The. Fuck! What, you think saying that you’re wearing a tastefully, tacky sports bra somehow makes you sound less attractive so we’ll feel bad for you? Like, “Oh jeez, she’s skinny but she’s not dressed well so she has flaws, too, and it’s unfortunate that this new woman can’t see past her skinniness to notice that.” Really? Really?! You just spent the article talking about how you assume this woman is feeling these things simply from looking at you. Not just the entire class, but you specifically. Your magical skinniness is what all the big black ladies envy, you know. It makes us feel bad about ourselves and we hate you for it. Hiiiiiiiss.
Here’s the article in question. It is getting a lot, and I mean a LOT, of shit. Most of the notes I scrolled through (I stopped after a while because there are over 2000 in the span of 2 days) pretty much make the same points I do, to the point that there are even spoof articles out there for this article.
I just… please stop making assumptions about me being this sad, plump black girl who looks at all the white, skinny girls of the world and cry myself to sleep at night. And by the way, starting your article with, “It’s the new year so my class is getting the resolution crowd who are going to give up after a month,” is NOT a good way to segway into, “Suddenly there was a large black woman behind me.”
Sometimes I still get responses to that article I wrote. Sometimes they’re not always positive. They’re jerky with lots of swears and lowercase letters and the occasional misspelling. And sometimes I think, I can type out some elegant response to “Anime/Cartoon characters are supposed to be slim and beatiful” but then I realize… what’s the point of getting all frustrated with someone who actually thinks that every single animated character fits with some realistic model of beauty, which isn’t even realistic to begin with if you look into how much photoshopping goes into making people “beautiful,” at least according to this person’s definition or what being beatiful is.
Maybe that is what being beatiful is? That’s not how you spell beautiful so…
Or how I should be ashamed of how I look. I mean I have 12 years of a relationship, friends, family, and fans who are apparently wrong in thinking that I’m a good person, and that I’m pretty. SHAME ON ALL OF YOU! You should listen to this guy, for shame! Stop protecting me o.k.? Because clearly I’m a person who needs protection in the first place it’s not like I wrote that article to say “love yourself” I wrote that out of needing protection from my own… fatness?
Or how apparently it’s the outside appearance that makes us love these characters, not their personalities or anything, that would be silly. I’m clearly attached to Tiana for her good looks, not for her “you have to work for what you want” attitude, no that’s not it at all. I spent 25 episodes watching “Attack on Titan” because Eren’s so hot, not because it’s a gripping series that keeps you at the edge of your seat and OMG THERE’S A TITAN BEHIND YOU RUN!
And how cosplay should apparently exclude a large chunk of the fandom that even makes these characters popular in the first place. Unless, of course, you believe that everyone who enjoys anime/manga/cartoons/movies/television/video games/ect. is this skinny, beatiful person who looks like they walked right out of that series you love. Or that the creators of these series are just these flawless beings. Plus sized people are too lazy to make your favorite shows you know every single person who worked on the Avengers is as skinny as a cartoon character… wait Joss Whedon isn’t…
Or how I guess skinny cosplayers just magically look like that all the time and don’t do anything to achieve that look. Or that they don’t get any grief in the cosplay community either because they are perfect. They’re never called “fake” or “attention whores” or anything like that.
I do apologize for the existence of men like this person who can’t spell “beautiful,” because people like him are why female cosplayers are so defensive about men and assume that they’re going to be picked on by them when, in reality, male cosplayers have insecurities too. But because of people like this guy it’s assumed that men are just big bullies who have this inaccurate sense of what beauty is when, to be honest, the ones I’ve met at conventions are just as realistic as I am
Oh and I also don’t feel the need to get frustrated with comments like this because when I click on the article and see about 400+ positive remarks out of maybe 4 or 5 negative ones, I smile and put my cool kid glasses on ^^
Oh and in case you missed it this is the article I wrote, the negative comment is in there somewhere, if you don’t mind going through hundreds of positive notes (I know it’s there I get notifications lol, you don’t have to look for it)
Or a playstation or a flat screen TV or a newer car, etc and etc. I know people that work under the table for half their pay and get paid on the books for the rest and collect welfare. I know of drug dealers that collect for tax purposes even though they pull in thousands of untaxed money each month dealing. Tell me how I am not supposed to be upset with these people like I am with greedy corporate cronies? I’m not heartless. These people are selfish and unethical.
Except not everyone who has nice things is automatically cheating the system. People are given things as gifts. People buy things and THEN qualify for assistance. People save up for nice things.
You can’t assume what someone’s situation is just by what they own.We were eating only donated Panera bread, rice, and turnips. My father was sneaking to the various blood banks in town to sell his plasma at twice the rate they allow. My mother was dying due to not having her medicine, which cost well over $1,200 a month after insurance.
My autistic baby brother wanted to do something nice for me.
He worked for months making custom art pieces to sell. He worked up courage despite crippling social anxiety and speech problems to ask the neighbors if he could do chores for them to earn more money - raking the yard, helping clean their house, walking their dogs.
For nine months he carefully hoarded his money in a jar in his bedroom. He counted it every single night and compared it to the cost of what he wanted to get for me for Christmas.
Finally he had enough. He bought me a DS Lite and a pokemon game.
He was so happy.
Until one of our neighbors, a highly conservative jackass, saw me with it outside a couple weeks later. My brother was with me.
The neighbor stormed up and became screaming at us, a pair of teenagers, over how we could be so selfish to spend money on “electronic shit” when we were a family on food stamps. Spittle flying from his lips, cuss words every other second, rage radiating off of him so violently that our father came running out of the house - at a limp, since his spine is broken, which causes him horrific daily pain beyond what I can imagine - to protect us.
My brother was never the same again. There is no happy ending here. That episode in his life changed him permanently and for the past seven years he has almost never left his room and never gone to a friend’s house. He is terrified of the neighbors and believes he is a bad person.
Because of fucking people like you OP.
Because of fuckers who believe that they know what life is like for everyone and have a right to judge.
So fuck you OP. If you know drug dealers, report them, go on and put your ass on the line then. But for fuck’s sake don’t you dare thing you understand what goes on in the life of the people who live in never-ending, grinding poverty. Because you have *no fucking clue* what goes on in the detailed lives of others.
You want to talk selfish? Look in the fucking mirror.^^
Exactly this. You don’t know a person’s situation at all. Life happens, you know? Nice things does not equal throwing your money away. You know why I have an iphone? It was a free upgrade. You know how I have a Chromebook? Christmas gift because I write and my computer is a piece of garbage.
Also, who says that people who are struggling can’t have nice things? What, are they supposed to sit around being poor and sad all the time? What, just because someone is in between jobs they can’t go catch a movie or something? It’s called stress relief.
Growing up, we sure as hell didn’t have a bunch of money but you better believe my parents saved and saved and gave me a good Christmas. I was stunned, STUNNED when my mom told me later on in life, “You know we were pretty broke, right?” I had no idea! But that’s what people do. It’s called living life. Don’t assume that someone’s personal items defines how much money they have. Not everyone is screwing the system.
AnonymousWow, good questions anon! Here we go. Under a cut because it’s looooooooooooooooooong!
I woke up from a nap just now because I decided to give up and sleep since the day was kinda crap. Now I have more followers O.O Hello kind people, thank you for the love and making my crap day better :)
Honestly I think it’s a combination of things. Stressing about job stuff and stretching myself way too thin without taking a break. This writing thing is great, but it’s a crazy amount of hard work and it takes a long while to see results. This on top of commissions and conventions and just… yeah. It’s hard for me to admit when I need to just stop for a second, because I feel like I should be doing all the things so I can make this happen.
Then this Saturday is the anniversary of my brother’s death, which is hitting me real hard this year, because he’s not here for the books and me essentially finally working at the things I want. I want to be able to call him and tell him about stuff that’s going on. The books, the conventions, the crafts we make, the costumes. I want to tell him everything. Usually, I treat it as a “he knows” sort of deal, but this year it just… it fucking sucks. So him not being here, plus me worrying about pretty much everything (money, job, how this writing this is going,ect.) is just… exhausting and somewhat depressing at times. My mom has also been calling me every day, which is perfectly fine, but I know she’s missing him a lot and I am too. I know why she calls when we have pretty much nothing new to talk about. I know why she sent me that box of clothes and has been spoiling me when she can. I know why she’s been visiting so much (Thanksgiving will make 3 times this year). Yeah, my book coming out and turning 30 was a big deal, but I know why she wants to be around me so much. It’s going through those things and him not being here for them. He should be here, or at least I should be able to call him, or vice versa. When my mom calls me, she should be able to call him right after, or something. It kills me that I can’t call him like I call my mom and dad, that I didn’t get to give him a “my book is getting published” call, or a “My 30th birthday is coming up,” or, “Hey guess what I can finally get married to the woman I’ve been with for almost 12 years.”
Anyhow, I finally went upstairs and slept. I stayed up past 4 in the morning yesterday editing the next book, then woke up before 9 am and have been trying to clean, work on stuff for our next con, and just… yeah a nap was needed. And now there’s more people following me and calling me pretty names, so that was nice to wake up to :)
This weekend I’m going to have a ton of fun because we’re going to Ren Fest. I have friends coming into town and staying here, so I’m hoping for wonderful distractions to take my mind off of what Saturday is. Though it has helped to write this all out.
Thanks for listening. Or at least skimming it while scrolling through your dash.
discriminateagainstwhitepeople:
I do not understand this “male privilege" bullshit.
What. Fucking. Privileges. Do. Men. Have.???????
Name them. I swear, I challenge you to name these “male privileges" and be able to prove them.
Come on, I fucking dare you.
Name them!
Oh boy. Well, as a man, I’ll tell you my male privilege.
- My odds of being hired for a job, when competing against female applicants, are probably skewed in my favor. The more prestigious the job, the larger the odds are skewed.
- I can be confident in the fact that my co-workers won’t think that I was hired/promoted because of my sex - despite the fact that it’s probably true.
- If I ever am promoted when a woman of my peers is better suited for the job, it is because of my sex.
- If i ever fail at my job or career, it won’t be seen as a blacklist against my sex’s capabilities.
- I am far less likely to face sexual harassment than my female peers.
- If I do the same task as a woman, and if the measurement is at all subjective, chances are people will think I did a better job.
- If I am a teen or an adult, and I stay out of prison, my odds of getting raped are relatively low.
- On average, I’m taught that walking alone after dark by myself is less than dangerous than it is for my female peers.
- If I choose not to have children, my masculinity will not be questioned.
- If I do have children but I do not provide primary care for them, my masculinity will not be questioned.
- If I have children and I do care for them, I’ll be praised even if my care is only marginally competent.
- If I have children and a career, no one will think I’m selfish for not staying at home.
- If I seek political office, my relationship with my children or who I deem to take care of them will more often not be scrutinized by the press.
- My elected representatives are mostly people of my own sex. The more prestigious the position, the more this is true.
- When i seek out “the person in charge", it is likely that they will be someone of my own sex. The higher the position, the more often this is true.
- As a child, chances are I am encouraged to be more active and outgoing than my sisters.
- As a child, I could choose from an almost infinite variety of children’s media featuring positive, active, non-stereotyped heroes of my own sex. I never had to look for it; male protagonists were (and are) the default.
- As a child, chances are I got more teacher attention than girls who raised their hands just as often.
- If my day, week or year is going badly, I need not ask of each negative episode or situation whether or not it has sexist overtones. (Nobody’s going to ask if I’m upset because I’m menstruating.)
- I can turn on the television or glance at the front page of the newspaper and see people of my own sex widely represented.
- If I’m careless with my financial affairs it won’t be attributed to my sex.
- If I’m careless with my driving it won’t be attributed to my sex.
- I can speak in public to a large group without putting my sex on trial.
- Even if I sleep with a lot of women, there is little to no chance that I will be seriously labeled a “slut,” nor is there any male counterpart to “slut-bashing.”
- I do not have to worry about the message my wardrobe sends about my sexual availability.
- My clothing is typically less expensive and better-constructed than women’s clothing for the same social status. While I have fewer options, my clothes will probably fit better than a woman’s without tailoring.
- The grooming regimen expected of me is relatively cheap and consumes little time.
- If I buy a new car, chances are I’ll be offered a better price than a woman buying the same car. The same goes for other expensive merchandise.
- If I’m not conventionally attractive, the disadvantages are relatively small and easy to ignore.
- I can be loud with no fear of being called a shrew. I can be aggressive with no fear of being called a bitch.
- I can ask for legal protection from violence that happens mostly to men without being seen as a selfish special interest, since that kind of violence is called “crime” and is a general social concern. (Violence that happens mostly to women is usually called “domestic violence” or “acquaintance rape,” and is seen as a special interest issue.)
- I can be confident that the ordinary language of day-to-day existence will always include my sex. “All men are created equal,” mailman, chairman, freshman, he.
- My ability to make important decisions and my capability in general will never be questioned depending on what time of the month it is.
- I will never be expected to change my name upon marriage or questioned if I don’t change my name.
- The decision to hire me will not be based on assumptions about whether or not I might choose to have a family sometime soon.
- Every major religion in the world is led primarily by people of my own sex. Even God, in most major religions, is pictured as male.
- Most major religions argue that I should be the head of my household, while my wife and children should be subservient to me.
- If I have a wife or live-in girlfriend, chances are we’ll divide up household chores so that she does most of the labor, and in particular the most repetitive and unrewarding tasks.
- If I have children with my girlfriend or wife, I can expect her to do most of the basic childcare such as changing diapers and feeding.
- If I have children with my wife or girlfriend, and it turns out that one of us needs to make career sacrifices to raise the kids, chances are we’ll both assume the career sacrificed should be hers.
- Assuming I am heterosexual, magazines, billboards, television, movies, pornography, and virtually all of media is filled with images of scantily-clad women intended to appeal to me sexually. Such images of men exist, but are rarer.
- In general, I am under much less pressure to be thin than my female counterparts are. If I am over-weight, I probably suffer fewer social and economic consequences for being fat than over-weight women do.
- If I am heterosexual, it’s incredibly unlikely that I’ll ever be beaten up by a spouse or lover.
- Complete strangers generally do not walk up to me on the street and tell me to “smile.”
- Sexual harassment on the street virtually never happens to me. I do not need to plot my movements through public space in order to avoid being sexually harassed, or to mitigate sexual harassment.
- On average, I am not interrupted by women as often as women are interrupted by men.
- On average, I will have the privilege of not knowing about my male privilege.
And lastly, I am taken as a more credible feminist than my female peers, despite the fact that the feminist movement is not liberating to my sex.
This is male privilege.
the original blog deleted im laughing
While I love the entire list, I think number 47 is the one I love the most, because it’s true. I feel like as a black plus sized woman I’m immediately told what obstacles are in my way, by family, friends, society, everyone. And while my loved ones will encourage me to be me, as a kid I already knew that there would be things in my way.
Interestingly enough, I knew it was mostly because of my race. I think that’s what happens when you’re black. There’s nothing wrong with that, there’s nothing wrong with your family talking to you about race and how people may look at you and assume things. But honestly, I didn’t have a clear picture of female obstacles until college. I remember when I decided to take Women’s Studies the response wasn’t, “Oh that’s cool,” and it wasn’t even, “Ugh you’re just going to hate men,” it was, “Why aren’t you taking African American Studies?” It’s not that I don’t think it’s important, but I had spent 18 years learning about African American things. I grew up in Chicago, it was all around me, whether it was because it was February, or because my family was talking to me, or hell because a new movie came out about it. There’s more aspects to me than “black” and if Black History is important because of who I am, Women’s Studies should be important too. But to some people I was betraying my race because I chose Women’s Studies.
And don’t get me started on when I took Queer Studies for a semester.
The sad thing about things like “Queer Studies” or being plus sized is that since these are things that people feel you can change, some people tell you about the hardships of it to discourage you. "It’s not easy being gay you’ll be this and this and this,“ or, "You should lose weight because of this and this and this.” It’s sort of the reverse of privilege, it’s a, “Get ready for the rest of your life,” which, on the one hand, is true, but on the other hand you should remember to be positive. Teach people to love who they are instead of trying to change it.
And that’s why number 47 is my favorite on this list, because privilege means that you had no idea that this is what people go through. You may be aware of racism or sexism or homophobia in a large sense, but not on this personal level, where you know immediately when you walk into a place to be on guard in case if you meet that one asshole, or when people in your own minority group are judging you over something so silly: picking college courses, not going to the get togethers because you have nothing in common with anyone there because you watch anime and write fanfiction, things like that.
shit.
chills forever
Her enthusiasm though. Yes.
GO.AWF!!!
This. All of this. There’s also the fact of being poor and taking care of your family and trying to do what’s best for them without having the means to do so. I didn’t grow up poor, but my parents sure as hell didn’t have much money, and it wasn’t until I got older that my mom flat out told me, “You realize we weren’t at all wealthy,” but I FELT like we were, because my parents did so much for me. I had good birthdays and good holidays, I got good presents and got rewarded for good grades. I can’t even begin to imagine what they did to make me feel so loved when they didn’t have much. And I know for a fact I have family who still live in these places this woman is talking about, I’ve been to these kinds of areas to visit family, I’ve woken up at sleepovers to see cockroaches and while I would freak out my relatives would be like, “Eh whatever.” I’ve been in places where you come in at a certain time for a reason, where there are a bunch of people outside on the corner for no reason other than to do something shady. There are areas in Chicago where you don’t drive through unless if you absolutely have to, especially at night. This woman is speaking truth.
The wealthy are secure even if they mess up, it’s the poor people who need help. Don’t make assumptions about them, ever. This “ghetto” lifestyle isn’t a choice, no one chooses to be this poor and live in a neighborhood where standing on a corner is risky. Can you imagine being scared to walk down the street? Walk outside of your house right now, can you imagine feeling uncomfortable about doing that? What’s the risk about being wealthy? Losing some money? Try being poor and being scared about losing your life, or your family’s life, or your friend or significant other.
So something occurred to me that I can’t quite understand thanks to a comment on facebook (of course) and talking to sarahfongcosplay, to the point that I’m going to ramble about it, only I hope I sound at least a bit coherent with my thoughts. Going on my writing blog because… it’s me writing ^^;;;
Ramblings on cosplay and why it sometimes boggles my mind. Courtesy of other people’s assumptions about things.
