We just made it through Thanksgiving.

Hopefully most people made the decision to stay safe and stay at home rather to gather to celebrate.

For many fat people, family gatherings do not feel like a celebration but rather a gamut to run, fending off health trolling, lookism, ableism, and plain old fat phobia from the people who are supposed to love and care about you.

I have never understood running this gamut. 

If you want to treat me badly, I’m not going to just sit there and take it.

Either you’re going to have to hunt me down and corner me or, depending on my mood, you are going to get a face full of at angry FAT OLD LADY. 

Believe it or not, I tend to be nonconfrontational, so I am more likely to simply not show up. 

But sometimes, I show up and if confronted I may decide to either stand up for myself or, more likely, to stand up to whoever thinks my weight is any of their business on behalf of future generations. 

The second part of the Thanksgiving fat blues is listening to all the people bemoaning what all they ate.

For fuck’s sake. 

Make a choice and live with it.  Even better, make a choice and be happy with that choice. 

Don’t decide to eat everything you want and then talk about how fat you feel, or how fat this will make you or how “bad” you’re being, and how you really shouldn’t have another serving of mashed potatoes or pie or whateverthefuck.

I don’t expect you to monitor what I eat and I certainly have no interest in monitoring what you are eating. 


Chances are, nobody cares. 

Not only are you ruining your own enjoyment of some lovely food, you are possibly ruining the enjoyment of those around you – and you don’t have the right to do that.

It’s thoughtless and rude and annoying AF.

Eat it.  Don’t eat it.  Whatever.  Just shut up about it. 

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