Fat Anxiety

Yesterday I had to attend a meeting where I would be getting to know a bunch of new students. Since I already have pretty major social anxiety, I was nervous going in. As I was getting ready, all I could think about was what clothes I could possibly wear that wouldn't make me look like the obese person I am.

It's not that I really believe I own clothing that could camoflage something as obvious as how overweight I am, but I didn't want to accentuate the fat, and everything I put on seemed to make it worse.

As I changed again and again, I was getting panicky instead of just anxious and had to stop and calm down several times, to the point where I was a few minutes late to my meeting. All I could think about was the bulge of fat where my underwear were tight at the waist. I was holding my breath as I walked to the meeting, and I realized that was not helping to alleviate how anxious and upset I was.

In some kind of incredible universal irony, a guy leaned out his window and cat-called right when I was feeling my most vulnerable and unattractive. Instead of thinking that maybe I'd put together a decent outfit after all, my self-talk became even more antsy, and I thought my body must be really obvious in this shirt, that guy must like big women, etc. It didn't occur to me that maybe I looked good.

As I was sitting in the meeting, my attention was not really on the speaker, so much as keeping my purse strategically in front of my midsection. I knew the roll was visible from the side, so I had my arm pinned around it, clutching at my bag. For someone so anxious about making a good impression, I didn't think about how I looked paranoid, antisocial, and withdrawn. I just didn't want people to look at my side fat.

When it came time to introduce myself, I spoke quickly and practically incoherently, trying to divert attention away from myself as much as possible. Usually in these types of circumstances I would crack a joke or say something cheeky instead of sincerely telling about myself and giving people an opportunity to know me. I don't even remember what I said this time because I was just thinking about my purse shifting and people seeing my stomach fat through a light-colored shirt.

By the end of the meeting my armpits were sweaty from clenching my arms so close to my body to try to mask it. I raced out of the room and tried to avoid having to talk to anyone - all I wanted to do was get somewhere private and check that my clothes hadn't warped into something even more unflattering.

This is just another time when being fat completely obstructs my concept of reality and prevents normal human interaction. Instead of standing out and being the colorful and interesting person I am, I became a shy fat girl trying to blend in with the furniture or disappear.

I'm tired of being that girl, and I'm tired of panicking because I can see a line around my waist where I wrinkled my shirt over the top of my too-tight underwear. Being overweight is making me so much more self-conscious than anyone should be, not just about appearance but about my whole self, and the kind of anxiety that creates is nothing short of crippling.