On Friday night, I hung out with a good friend and her friend, somebody I don't know particularly well but like. We had one of those exceedingly heavy nights where light-hearted conversation was nowhere to be found. At some point during the night, Z. says something along the lines of, "You're attractive. I bet that's made things easy for you." Whoah. I replied that, in actuality, the window of time with which I've been considered an "attractive" person has been relatively small and I often feel uncomfortable with comments about my appearance. Which then went into a whole different conversation about self-worth and accepting compliments an so on.
But I've actually been thinking quite a bit about the original comment, the perception that if you are attractive, life might be easier. I won't deny that there have been times where I have capitalized on my appearance. I've gotten a free drink or two in my time. I got to use the riding lawn mower during military days because the person in charge thought I was attractive while the rest of the guys had to lug around weed whackers. But again, I have never been "ideal" or fit into social models of attractiveness. And frankly have suffered because of that, fatness is probably the last totally acceptable form of discrimination.
I wish none of this mattered. I wish I didn't know that yes, in fact, being pretty is a benefit. I wish I didn't know how much my social standing is directly related, though inversely proportional, to my weight and pant size. I wish that I didn't have to worry about losing fifteen to twenty pounds to get a date. I wish that I have often thought that if I lost an arm or leg, I could go on with my life but if my face were disfigured I would want it to end.
So what to do about it?
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