I love food. I love making food, I love looking at food, I love going out with my friends for food.
But I don’t like all types of food.
As a plus-sized girl, sometimes I feel like what I order is judged by other people. I often get these strange looks when I scoop like ten carrots into my to-go box at Commons or I get a salad instead of the greasy whatever-they’re-serving. Like, what, you’ve never seen a thick girl eat something healthy before? Are fat people only allowed to eat super-sized McDonald’s?
But, I love chocolate. And peanut butter. And anything with sugar in it. Except for those weird fruity-processed-things, like Sour Patch Kids, Laffy Taffy’s, or Twizzlers. Like, excuse me. It’s sugar. Something healthy, like fruit, should not be paired with something sweet. Chocolate covered strawberries are not okay. And, you can hate me all you want, but it’s people like you, oh-I’m-technically-eating-healthy-so-it’s-okay people, that make me feel insecure about my food choices.
Because if I said something like that while dipping strawberry pieces into chocolate fondue at The Melting Pot, someone would probably say that I’m just masking the fact that I like chocolate.
Um, I’m sorry? So you can eat and say you’re indulging, but if I say I’m doing that I get told to eat just plain strawberries, or maybe with some yogurt? Yeah, no. Not okay, people. Besides, I don’t even like strawberries. Or blueberries. Or raspberries. Or blackberries. Or pretty much any berry. Or oranges. Or lemons. Or cherries.
And this whole Netflix binge-watching culture thing college kids have: if I said I was doing that, I’m sure my roommate would be thinking that I’m being a lazy slob with no motivation in life. But if someone who is at the gym every day decides to stay in all day, it’s okay.
Double standards suck.
There’s a difference between sometimes being lazy and consistently being lazy.
Just like there’s a difference between indulging in food and eating because you just like the taste of it.
And the fact that I don’t believe in eating tasteless leaves that are sporadically covered in thick or thin liquid mixed with items that don’t taste good to me doesn’t mean that you get to look at me like I’m the most disgusting person in the world for choosing two slices of pizza.
Sure, maybe you like salad. But I don’t. And that’s my choice. Or, maybe it’s not. I mean, taste buds are a scientific thing, right?
And, can we talk about how sometimes people I know can eat so much of the right thing but end up looking like they don’t? Like, I know a couple of people who absolutely adore salad, but their metabolism doesn’t.
So is it okay for you to stare at them like they’re crazy?
No. No, it is not.
Just like it’s not okay for me to judge you for liking salad. I mean, I think it tastes gross, but that’s whatever. I also hate steak, mashed potatoes, and peas. And squash. And wheat bread. And a whole bunch of other types of food.
It’s pretty hilarious to watch me at a restaurant. I spend like twenty minutes looking at the menu – and not because everything looks delicious. Actually, I’m trying to find something I can eat, and eat most of, so that I don’t waste my money or look ungrateful. That’s why, whenever I meet people to catch up for lunch, I always suggest a place that I know I’ll eat at: Bdubs, Gianna’s, Applebee’s…
Starbucks is my favorite. Except you probably already figured that out.
Our society has these unspoken rules, these cultural norms, that show us we need to do certain things because that’s just how it’s done. If we see a plus-sized person eating salad, we are to assume he or she is dieting. If we see a thin person eating a lot of chocolate, we might even assume that he or she is going to go into the bathroom and hack it all up.
And it’s ridiculous.
What’s ironic is that we say that thinking these things are bad – in fact, we know it’s not okay to think them. But we still do them anyway because it’s sort of like survival of the fittest. Agreeing with everyone else assures you have friends. Having friends means finding someone to fall in love with. Falling in love with someone means you’re not alone.
And being not alone means that you might not end up as one of those fat people eating a salad.
It’s a crazy logic, I know. And, probably, it holds some kind of fallacy that I can’t think of right now, but the point still stands. We act like we’re okay with things because it means that we might have people we can possibly turn to when things go wrong or when we need something.
But it also feeds the monster of fear and hatred. And feeding that monster leads to terrible things that our world is experiencing right now.
However, I’m not saying we all need to be bubbly munchkins that have pet unicorns and fart rainbows and say nothing mean to anyone and all that stuff. I’m not saying we use euphemisms constantly because others will become offended.
We’re taught that honesty is the best policy, but the truth also hurts. So what happens then?
I’d be lying to you if I told you that I knew the answer.
But, while I search for it, stay classy, Captains!