So this pic of a thick chick flashing flesh got yanked from snapshot social media.
And the barring of the butt-shot spurred serious butthurt and pudge-udice accusations from the hefty and feminists and whoever just wanted a reason to complain because it’s Friday and yelling’s fun. So what am I yelling about? Nothing. I’m as calm as they come. And my issue’s not her; she didn’t bother me. Do what you like (also she looks like a super pretty, well-fed version of Elisha Cuthbert). That’s not a problem. Her bum exposure? That’s no matter either. Instagram removing her pic? Pretty shitty – but no.
(Dat ass is covered with sheer undies, btw)
My gripe was a plethora of articles surfacing about “singling out fat ladies – not men” and supporting psychotic claims with non-existent medical stats. This article isn’t wrong about lady folk being objectified into sex objects. That’s old hat. What is wrong whether we’re talking about moon rocks or moon sized rumps, is the whole “according to research” bullshit you can’t actually back up. And the eyeroll award goes to:
“Even health care professionals exhibit bias against larger women. According to research, doctors are more likely to assign weight-loss diets to female bodies, even when male bodies have the same BMI.”
“Research says”?!
Let me see the link! What research? And who reported it? The women who were told to lose weight? The men who weren’t given the same suggestion? Or the doctors themselves? Did they say, “Oh, yes. I’d definitely tell a woman to lose weight.”
I’ve worked in a couple different health fields and you know what?
Men never bring up weight issues themselves. But women do. Here’s a beautiful example: before I took a physical therapy job, I worked briefly for a chiropractor. In the super short time I was there, a corpulent couple would come for appointments every other day. Did the doctor bring up the fact that weight loss was needed first? Nope. But you want to know who did? Her. She did. On the way out one day, she asked “Could I be having these problems with my neck because of my weight?”
(this is the exact face the next boss I had made when asked the same thing) #brilliant
And while this is always a touchy subject (and while he did not initiate the topic), what he did do was be upfront. Like any medical profesh worth his weight (pardon the pun) would do, he answered her honestly and clearly. Mind you, this dude was not my favorite boss. In fact, he was among my un-favorites. But he surprised me as I witnessed this convo unfold. He was clear, honest, and (above all) professional. He said yes – but also offered a scientific explanache for why excess weight causes pain. I don’t remember his analogy, but he covered how it alters posture, strains muscles trying to compensate, and pulls on the old backbone. Boom. Pain.
Take three back packs and fill them up with 100 pounds of anything.
Whether that “anything” is 100 pounds of goat shit or kale chips, it’s still 100 pounds. And it’s heavy. And if you happen to have an inverse relache between nomming and cardio, that something’s gonna be fat stuck on your body sooner or later. It’s science, not Hollywood fat-shaming. But the latter’s how Patient X took it.
She broke out into tears and never came back.
Sorry, darling. Some docs say the Hippocratic oath the way most Catholics pray. But to the good ones, it actually means something. If you ask, any ethical ones won’t let you leave believing it’s okay to maintain detrimental diets. And it’s alright if you don’t return. There’s plenty of patients who want to recover and live their lives well. That’s even better for him (or “her”, Wanda-WE-CAN-DO-IT) ’cause people willing to meet help halfway can give his business a 5 star rating on Yelp. Boom. More business. If that sits about as well with you as a meal without Mayonnaise, maybe see a shrink to shrink your size. That’s not me being cruel. If you’ve got a deep-seated issue wrought from a wellspring of cognitive dissonance, well… the remedy’s not an M.D.
They only deal only in tangible reality.
But as women play into their own objectification by subconsciously accepting psychotic cultural dictations, we can all get batt-shitty about this sometimes. I’m no stranger. At all. But that doesn’t mean we ask these stupid fucking questions out loud – much less to a doctor. Like the girlfriend who asks if she’s pretty just to call you a liar in the next breath, these chicks are hoping to hear that validating lie from a guy in a white coat… when they already know the real answer.
(love this bitch)
So, in sum:
Good doctors won’t lie.
And most men don’t care enough to ask.
There’s your research, dipshits. Now let’s go for a jog.
*Sidenote: Time to start an IG page with pics of doctors’ faces after big girls ask, “Am I fat?”