My name’s Cicci.
Really, I am.
Don’t pity me for it. There’s nothing innately bad about being fat. It’s as much a fact about me as my hair color or my eyes (even though my eye color is somewhere between green, grey and blue and thus rather hard to define.)
And you know what? Being fat doesn’t make me a worse person in any way. It doesn’t even make me less healthy. It’s true, I promise.
And while I still want to lose weight (working on not thinking that), no one has the right to respect me less even if I didn’t. No one has the right to comment, demean or belittle my body. I have the right to dress however I like, have sex (and enjoy it), exercise or not exercise, eat whatever I want and not be judged for it.
I’m fat, healthy and beautiful. And a host of other things not related to how I look that are even better.
Edit: Interested? Start by reading Kate Harding or The Rotund. Or Julia Skott, if you’re Swedish.