I have spent considerable time lamenting (read: complaining) about the perception of fat people in today's society. I have posted several times about the way the overweight are treated, and my reaction to the treatment that I receive at the hands of people who should most assuredly know better.
A lot of people feel that I have no right to complain because I was the one who ate myself into this situation in the first place. Well, technically they're correct, but they don't need to be jerks about it. They were technically correct when they scoffed at all those people who threw "new millennium" parties on New Year's Eve 1999, saying that the new millennium didn't start until January 1st, 2001. *Technically* correct, but totally missing the whole point. And all the fun.
Some of the things that have really bothered me lately are things that most of you wouldn't think twice about. Like being comfortable in a movie theater seat -- you just sit down and enjoy the show, right? Depending on which theater I go to, I have to wedge myself into the seat, and sit in an uncomfortable position. I can never really give my undivided attention to the movie, because I'm always conscious of how uncomfortable I am.
Or, needing a wheelchair at the urgent care clinic. Most of you would just use the wheelchair, and not think further about it. I got a wheelchair into which I didn't fit. Not comfortably anyway. I didn't complain at the time because the discomfort of the chair was superseded by the pain in the foot, and because I was just plain grateful to be off the foot. It's hard enough to be out of commission as far as your own locomotion is concerned, but to be aware that you are going to have to struggle to release yourself from the confines of the wheelchair you're in? A particular sort of hell. Or to have to direct your spouse or child to ask at the desk whether or not they have a "larger size" chair that can accommodate you. Or needing a cast two sizes larger than what you should use because it won't fit around your large leg.
I won't even go into the black hole of depression that is trying on clothes.
But the thing that is bothering me the most is still the attitude of people. "Fat" is the last accepted prejudice. It's still okay to make fun of the fat, even within their hearing. In the past three weeks, I've had: people point and snicker at me while in the wheelchair because I was too heavy for my daughter to push over the threshold of the clinic; a movie theater attendant who "mooed" at me after he thought I was out of earshot; and my own father 'lovingly' ridicule me when I told him about my ankle incident -- I was telling him about how it all went down, and said I turned my ankle, and brought all my weight down on the twisted ankle. His reply was, "And you got a lot of weight to be putting on that ankle!"
I would go on and on about how it's not acceptable to make fun of minorities or the like, but it won't do any good. Most people don't care about offending the fat. They don't care if we are hurt or even if we have feelings TO hurt. They see it as their right -- as a fitting punishment for the weak and for those with no willpower. And I'm getting so tired of fighting the battle.