Friday, November 14, 2014

The Inevitable Thigh Touch

You would think that in this day an age, a light graze of thighs wouldn't matter much, but let me tell you, it does. (Actually no, it still doesn't. Just keep reading.)

About a month ago, I went to a One Direction concert on my own, and it was freakin' rad. I wasn't too bummed because I had awesome seats - that I probably spent way too much money on - but when you're in love with a boy band, anything goes. 

As I was walking to my floor seat, getting closer to the stage as I'm looking for my row, I discovered that the seats were very tightly zip-tied together. I normally don't sit during concerts so this usually wouldn't have bothered me, but I had gotten there about an hour before the opening act and wasn't particularly in the mood to stand while they were setting up the stage. As I sat down, my thigh touched the thigh of the girl sitting next to me. I didn't think much of it; this is actually super common for me. I have big thighs, and when I sit, they spread out. It happens. Who cares, right?

Well, her mom did. 

She glanced over at me and gave me a dirty look. After about another four glances, I could hear her say to her daughter "I paid a lot of money for these seats, and I deserve to be comfortable." Let me explain something. 1. I was sitting next to her daughter, not her. And 2. OUR THIGHS WERE BARELY TOUCHING. It's not as if I had accidentally sat on her daughter's lap or anything, it was simply that the sides of our thighs were touching- nothing else, not our stomachs or arms or feet or anything, just our thighs. And her daughter wasn't even thin, she had pretty beefy thighs as well, but because I'm bigger this is obviously my fault. Anyway, she glances one last time and asks me if I could scoot over. I very calmly but sternly said, "I'm actually sitting quite comfortably in my seat. I don't see a reason to move." 

"Seriously?"

"Yes, I'm not moving. This is the seat I paid for, and I am sitting in it."

She proceeds to grab her car keys and literally tries to saw between the zip ties so that she can separate their chairs from mine. She quickly gave up after realizing how dumb of an idea that was. What astounded me the most was that as I was looking at the rows in front of me EVERYBODY'S. THIGHS. WERE. TOUCHING. I couldn't believe how this lady was acting. And it wasn't even that her daughter had an issue with it, because every time her mother leaned over or glanced at me, her daughter would tell her to stop. It wasn't until her daughter pointed to the rows in front of us and told her to look at everyone's thighs that it ended.

Right after she finally saw that it wasn't because I was fat, but rather because the chairs were small and very tightly placed, she apologized. At this point in my life, I'm used to the stares and the awkward situations where I have to squeeze past people, or where my butt might knock something over as I pass by it. I get it. I'm fat. I take up more space than thin people. But to be talked to and talked about so rudely for something that didn't happen because I was fat, but happened because of the chair placement was something new. I'm not denying the fact that if I were thinner, maybe our thighs would have touched less. But by looking around, it seemed that thigh touching was pretty inevitable.

Her thin privilege allowed her to blame me for the situation. Quite simply, thin people have it easier in this world. They aren't being constantly judged and ridiculed. And that's not to say that thin people are never made fun of, but it's definitely not as harsh or as constant as it is for fat women. 

Is thigh-touching really that big of an issue? Is a fat girl wearing a bikini at the beach a sight you'd rather not see? Why does a fat person at the gym look like they are out of place? 

There is an excerpt from the Everyday Feminism blog that really speaks to this, written by a thin woman.
Can a thin person have body image struggles? Can a thin person be at war with their self-image? Can a thin person hate to look in the mirror?

Absolutely.

And does that suck?

Absolutely.

But the difference between these negative feelings and fatphobia is this: The only person worrying about whether or not I’m meeting beauty standards is me.

And that’s not the same for fat folk.

When you’re not thin, other people on the beach actually do take offense. When you’re not thin, people really do think that you shouldn’t be in a bathing suit. When you’re not thin, people really do make your body their moral obligation.

And while your internal struggle is real and significant, the point is: You might hate your body, but society doesn’t.

That’s thin privilege.
And that about sums it up. The mother made my body her moral obligation, and demanded that I moved. She thought that my size wasn't okay, and I had to do something to make her more comfortable with accepting it. She failed to realize that the reason for our thighs touching wasn't solely my weight. 

I guess this is just serves as a memo to my fellow fat babes that it's okay to stand your ground. It's not okay for other people to make your weight their business. It's your body, and you're allowed to do what makes you happy, even if it makes other people uncomfortable. They're adult enough to look the other way, or find an alternative manner of dealing with it-- they shouldn't have to ask you to change to please them. If you like wearing bikinis and crop tops and skirts, don't let people tell you that those aren't clothes for big girls. If you like sitting in a seat you paid for, don't let anyone tell you to move. ~~




 


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