My Strongwoman inspiration Kaitlin Burgess wrote an awesome blog a few months back about weight and dating. Here’s the link. A brief synopsis: a guy was talking about how he has “weight classes” for the women he dates, and Kaitlin basically said “fuck your weight class.” As a woman who has floated between middle and heavyweight, she currently sits at about 200 pounds, and let me tell you…I girl crush on her hard. And there are many men and women who do the same.
While I loved the blog post, I realized that even as a heavier person, I haven’t had many experiences with people abjectly commenting on my weight. That was until an interaction on Tinder (I know, I KNOW) the other day. My profile says that I’m a competitive Strongwoman in the second sentence. It often gets reactions like “You’re probably stronger than me and that’s intimidating” or “So is all you talk about the gym?” To the first: Yeah, I am, so either get stronger or get over it, and to the second, it’s not the only thing I talk about, but it’s quite important to me, so STFU.
Anyway, the other day, a guy messaged me and was like “Do you even lift?” We joked a little bit, he asked if I got into Strongwoman from powerlifting—a pretty typical transition—and I said no but that I might make the move to do both here shortly (shhhhhh…don’t tell Carlos). We were talking state records in my weight class and how they’re attainable at the moment, and he said “I’m a gentleman so I won’t ask your weight class.” I threw an LOL out there and told him it’s 198 because you don’t get to be bashful in this sport. So we talked a bit more, and he says, “I probably sound like an asshole, but I think it’s awesome that you lift so heavy and have the potential to break records…but I can’t date someone that heavy.”
“I can’t date someone that heavy.” What I wanted to say: MOTHERFUCKER YOU AIN’T EVEN SEEN HEAVY. Before I started weight loss, you ass monkey, I was clocking in at a hefty 259.7, so miss me with that “heavy” shit. Instead, I directed him to Kaitlin’s post and wished him the best of luck in his journey to find someone who fit his weight criteria.
I suppose I can’t hold it against him, right? This is the world we live in. I remember sitting at a blood drive in high school and a girl (who it’s since been discovered is, in fact, a terrible human being) was talking about what a “big bitch” you’d have to be to weigh 180 and donate double, obviously not know I was sitting there at 190. I’ve seen the looks walking into boutique shops like “Oh so the big girl gon’ try to shop here?” Which I actually did just fine shopping there til my shoulders got muscular as hell in the last 4 months and now I look like I’m trying to Incredible Hulk out of their clothes. But this is life, right? People are allowed to make these snap judgements because we’re told if people don’t fit into the world’s weight classes, it’s okay to act like an asshole to them.
Here’s why this actually chaps my ass though: Unless you work professionally in health and fitness or are one of those guessers at the fair, you very likely cannot look at someone and guess how much they weigh, and further, weight isn’t the only indicator of health. There’s more to it than the belly fat or thickness of their thighs or face; shit, I don’t do it professionally, so I don’t know. What I do know is that right now at (GASP SIGH SHOCK) about 220, I’m the healthiest I’ve been in a long time, and that includes when I was 198 post-weight watchers. Sure, I’ve got some weight to lose (remember: 198 is my too-heavy weight class), but that doesn’t mean I’m the epitome of unhealthy. I’m not making excuses for people; I fully understand that being heavy takes a toll on your body, and being morbidly obese is not healthy. But I’m so god damn sick of people acting like the number on the scale alone determines health or, more importantly, someone’s worth.
As much as I’m a critic of Amy Schumer, she did a stand-up skit once where she said something to the effect of, “I weigh a buck seventy right now and I can catch a dick whenever I want” after people were critical of her body. GIRL. PREACH. THAT. SHIT. Stop acting like because people have some extra belly fat they can’t have sex or be a great partner or a good fucking human. Listen, if you don’t wanna date me because I outweigh or outlift (or both) you, do you, boo boo; I’ll find a man who ain’t scurred. But what you need to stop doing is thinking you can tell me or anyone else that a number on the scale determines whether or not I’m worthy to date you. Boy bye.
Til next time,