A Fat Liberation Manifesto

When I was at my smallest, people called me fat as a slur, and asked me to lose weight. Now that I’m at my heaviest, the only weight I’m…

When I was at my smallest, people called me fat as a slur, and asked me to lose weight. Now that I’m at my heaviest, the only weight I’m losing is the weight of other people’s expectations.

All my life, I’ve been asked to lose weight. I’ve been told that I’m too “big”. I’ve been given unsolicited advice on what to eat. I’ve been told, by people who barely know me, that I overeat. I’ve been reprimanded, rebuked, and ridiculed by friends and foes.

I remember the time my close friend called me unattractive. Omo. I remember the time my other close friend alluded that I was not as “sexy” as she. I remember being told my outfit would look better with a smaller stomach.

If I had a kobo for each time someone told me to ‘suck it in’, I’d be Dangote.

All my “advisers” have always claimed to come from a place of health. “I care about you, I don’t want you to be sick or have diabetes.” That’s what they all say. Yet, I’ve never received unsolicited advice from any of my friends who are doctors or nurses. Ironic I know. These doctors who went to the school of Google seem to know more than the ones who went to medical school.

I remember crying, sobbing, wailing, wondering who would ever marry me or want to be with me with the way I looked.

All those comments didn’t motivate me to “work” on my body. They just made me hate myself. They didn’t encourage me to diet, and they didn’t push me to extreme exercises. Nope. They just got me depressed. I’d like to say thank God I didn’t get into disordered eating, but I got into depression. So there’s that.

I’m much better now. Thank God. And funny enough, I’m the happiest and most confident I’ve ever been now that I’m at my heaviest. I wouldn’t say I’m happy and confident because I’m heavier. Rather, I’m happy despite being at my heaviest.

I’ve stopped sucking in. And I’ve started wearing body-con dresses. These to me are revolutionary acts of self-acceptance and self-love.

Each time I zip up that curve-hugging dress and stride out confidently, it’s a defiant “fuck you” to the countless voices that told me I should be ashamed of this body.

To anyone out there struggling under the crushing weight of fat phobia and BODY shame — please know you are inherently valuable and worthy of respect exactly as you are. Your size does not define your humanity or beauty.

You are valuable because you are human. And that’s on periodt.

And to anyone who has carelessly spouted fat-phobic rhetoric under the guise of “health concerns” — educate yourselves on HAES (Health At Every Size), bodily autonomy, and dismantling anti-fat bias.

Because the real pandemic isn’t larger bodies, it’s society’s discrimination against them. It’s the sizeism pervading healthcare, leaving obese patients to suffer inadequate treatment.

It’s the lack of representation in the media. The fact is that when we do see fat people, they are almost always evil, dirty, greedy, or side characters.

So the next time you want to tell your fat friend to suck it in, remember that your words have an impact.

And you. My fat queen. You are beautiful, and you are worthy at every size.