Hey Big Girl Blog
This is my love letter to all my plus-size baddies out there.
My Chubby
I once ghosted a guy because he called me His Chubby. Yes, as much as I hate to admit it. I was so embarrassed by that word that instead of talking to him about it, I thought it would be better to suddenly disappear out of thin air.
If you haven’t already read my blog post on being ghosted just know that being ghosted sucks! So the fact that I did it, just makes me feel even worse. At the time all my ears heard was the word chubby. “My chubby”, to be exact. It’s like when he said those two words, magic sparkling dust flew over my head and transformed me back into Mr. Johnson’s high school history class room again. That was the very classroom where my heart was totally destroyed. That was the classroom when my crush said out loud in front of the whole classroom, “You’d be cute, if you lost some weight”.
Words are so much more powerful than people give them credit. Great words of activists, teachers or mentors can change the way a whole crowd thinks. Beautiful words that make poetic imagery can change how you feel. So why do people think words are not as tough as sticks or stones?
The thing is I haven’t found my word yet. You know the word that you use to describe yourself. It’s weird that I have this problem not in just one area of my life but in many. When I fill out a dating app and I’m asked to check the box that best describes your physical features, I always get stuck when it asks about your body. Are you chunky? Fit? Curvy? What about plump, chubby (there’s that word again). Or how about just straight up FAT? I could go on with other descriptive words to call us but you get the point.
See I’m so much more than that word. I am also smart, funny, cute, sexy, sassy, intelligent, determined, caring etc. So why is my weight the one thing that defines me? Why is my weight the one thing that people choose to see?
I had been talking to this guy for about a month when he finally decided to call me, “His Chubby”. And I get his intent was to sound endearing or maybe that was the start of a pet name for me. But I kept asking myself, why could he call me his sexy, cuteness, or his funny girl. Anything else other than “My Chubby”. I guess it could have been worse. He could have just called me plain old FAT.
As time went by, as I continued to hide and block his calls I thought long and hard about what I should do.
