When I was 26, I made a fat friend; we’ll call her FF. Previous to meeting FF, I had often kept a distance from people my size. I judged myself harshly and those judgments spilled over to my interactions with anyone who reminded me of my own perceived shortcomings. FF was charming, intelligent, hilarious and attractive. I was instantly taken with her and as we began our friendship, I had an epiphany. If I could see this person who was my size so positively, perhaps others could see me this way as well. Perhaps, even, I could begin to see myself this way.

One day, FF and I talked about the fact that we were fat. It was a surprising conversation. I had never talked to another fat person about being fat. We kept it light. We talked about “Chub Rub” - the chaffing between our thighs on hot summer days. We talked about our low-hanging bellies - We called them meat curtains and envisioned theatrical events that could take place beneath them. We talked about uncomfortable plane seats. We talked about diets and childhood humiliations. We made fun of ourselves. We made fun of other fat people. We leaned in close and whispered terrible things we’d never said out loud before. We laughed until we cried. We laughed so hard we had to leave the restaurant where we were having lunch. It was the least politically correct conversation I’ve ever had, and it RADICALLY changed my life.

Suddenly those ’secret shames’ that I felt were unique to me felt like a shared burden. I realized that I wasn’t the only one in the world who was having the fat experience. My shame dissipated. I felt a freedom I’d never experienced. I adored this FF, and I left that conversation feeling blessed and grateful. That one conversation was a springboard for so much that was to come for me, as an activist and as an individual. Through loving my FF, I began to see a path to loving myself.

Often, as people of size, we are shamed into silence. We are berated, misjudged and de-sexualized. We are told, myriad times daily, that we are unworthy of love — from others and ourselves.
We are marketed to, medicalized, marginalized, denied health care, jobs and basic conveniences.
For the ’sake of our health’, we are lovingly (and not) chastised by friends and family.

Somewhere in there, fat folks can tend to lose touch with ourselves, and with each other.

I believe that conversations, that stories, can change our lives.
I believe that self-love is the first step towards the true ability to love others.
I believe that by sharing your stories, you can inspire, connect with and encourage others towards happiness.

So I have created The Fat Experience Project to humanize the life lived large.
No more headless bouncing bellies on the news with the “Obesity Epidemic” stamped across the screen.
We have faces, names, lives and stories.
What’s yours?