If I'm fat, why are you uncomfortable?

I have been accused of being fat several times in my life and while I’m not zero-per cent body fat thin, I’m certainly not fat. Not that I mind, it’s just that I am not.

It all started in the eighth grade, where I was friends with a bunch of eight girls. I was their pity friend, the fat, nerdy friend from whom they could take their homework.

I wasn’t chased by boys because, well, I was quiet and nervous and wanted to study quietly. Really, I did. And in retrospect, I wasn’t fat. I just didn’t have a flat stomach.

But I wanted to be their friend. So despite knowing that I wasn’t wanted, I would go to their parties.

On one occasion, we were supposed to be in a swimming pool. One of them came up to me and pointed out that my stomach sticks out a bit. None of their tummies did? I can’t remember now.

And then I saw them gossip and giggle and assumed that it was about me. To add to my adolescent body image pain, they never spoke to me, ever again.

Then of course I dated a remarkably skinny person, who did on occasion remind me of my tummy problem. To be fair, he reminded me of many of my problems, including how I didn’t know how to walk or talk. Ouch.

Another time is more recent in my memory. I was at a party and the hostess was immensely drunk. As I entered, she greeted me with public and unapologetic commentary on how I was looking fat. I let it pass, and encouraged her to do the same, but she never spoke to me again.

And another time, I really had put on about 10kg, and was assumed pregnant by two acquaintances. One met me almost a year later and apologised profusely.

I found myself trying to calm him and reminding him that it really didn’t matter, and that since I was recently married when he made that comment, it was a natural enough assumption. The other person (independent incident) was not apologetic.

She thought her calling me fat helped me lose all that weight (which went away on its own when I stopped eating so much junk and dealt with a psychological problem of a different nature).

It’s not that I have been above the thin culture and have not tried to hide my bulges, or have never looked in the mirror and wished that I was naturally thinner or that I did not hate exercise.

The truth is that I do have a small stickout of a tummy which hasn’t left my side (or front) since the eighth grade. But I just don’t understand why it makes other people so darn uncomfortable, or gives them the right to comment on it.

Body shaming isn’t just for fat people. It’s not just for really thin people. It’s for everyone who’s not perfect (as dictated by media and cultural norms yadda yadda yadda the well known argument stands).

What’s more laughable is that the people commenting on your weight really aren’t those model figures either, pun intended.

And these are all smart, educated people who are otherwise quite capable of discussing global warming and world politics if they had to. So what is it about weight that seems more necessary to talk about? Is it to feel better by making the other person feel worse?

The conversations with all these people were infrequent and short. I find myself wondering why they felt, in those very brief moments of conversation, that this should be the most important thing to talk about.

Forget global warming and world politics, but not even my happiness, not my studies (I’ve been studying since the eighth grade), and not even the weather but my weight.

Don’t we have anything else to talk about?

Also read: How dare you say I don't look like my baby's mother?