Gaining Life In Weight
Reality TV is white noise. Jailbirds play in the background as I check emails and catch up on social media. I vaguely become aware of an altercation between inmates on the screen. The insults and temper tantrums sling back-and-forth. Off-screen jail time must be more hardcore than how it's depicted in this show. Otherwise, it's basically high school with less violence and more drugs. (One of the insults consists of the words 'fat slut' š.) As the onscreen melodrama unfolds, I read a piece on what air travel is like when you're fat. I am fat. I am also terrified of someone else touching my fat (or my fat touching them). Wrapping my body around itself in an effort to make myself smaller is something I am all too familiar with. On planes, buses, trains. At conferences, in churches, and sharing an Uber. Trying to make myself smaller is nothing new. Blaming fat for this habit is disingenuous. I have always felt uncomfortable in my own skin. As far back as I