It seems that there are only two types of fat people we get to see: the stereotype of the lazy fat person who eats a lot and never exercises (the “bad fatty”), or the fat person who works out hard and eats foods commonly accepted as healthy, but just doesn’t lose any weight (the “good fatty”). I’m sure people exist who embody these two tropes, and there is nothing wrong with that — I’m not here to tell anyone how to live.
But what about the rest of us? If I had to guess, I’d say that most fat people out there are somewhere in the middle — we eat vegetables some days, but order sundaes with whipped cream on others; we work out a few times then lay around all weekend; we have days where we feel like Beyonce and days where we feel like the person in an infomercial who opens a cabinet and gets buried alive in disorganized Tupperware.I don’t want to call us the “normal” fatties, because that implies people who aren’t like us are abnormal, which comes with stigma attached to it. Maybe we’re the middle-of-the-road fatties. We like vegetables AND frappuccinos; running AND Netflix; crop tops AND sweatpants. Chances are we aren’t any different from most of our thinner counterparts. We’re just the ones under intense scrutiny, expected to prove that we are worthy of respect, as if simply existing as human beings isn’t enough to deserve that.