I would like to acknowledge the following post is from the perspective of a cisgender female whom identifies as heterosexual and fat. However, insert your narrative and identities to create a connection. #FuckPeople are genderless.
He was educated, well spoken, and flashed a smile that would make the dentist envy him. He was chocolate finer than what Belgium could ever dream to explore or create. And I, ME…was hungry and had a major craving for sweets.
I attended an event out of town over the weekend with hopes to explore scholarship and connect with a city that helped me in sharing my narrative for #PlusSizeMagic. This city captured the epitome of history, memory, and exploration. Little did I know, it was going to be a place that showed me people ain’t shit. At least some. As friends and I pushed through the thick air of the night with the elixir of joy pulsing through our veins aka liquor that gave us unicorn powers, I had no idea I would see Him. I stood at the bar taking Snaps that would only exist in my memory thread and singing along to some of the best songs the 90s had to offer.
My friend whips around and says “he’s here”. I instantly thought he was lying. There was no way God made a moment for this man to exist in this space the same time I was channeling my inner Yonce and feeling fearless as fuck. I mean FIERCE. I was ready to toss a twerk his way that would be a mean 360, throwing off all mathematic professors and they would be in awe of the geometry my bigger body could master.
Before I continue, let me unpack this “relationship” I have with the gentleman I address as He. We met a year ago at an academic event. When I first laid eyes on him I SWEAR FOE LAWD these words, and I quote “He’s the one I’m going to marry” leaped out my soul. Before they actually became words and I spit them out, my teeth chewed each word and I swallowed them. He introduced himself and we started chatting. But it wasn’t your normal “hello and goodbye”. It was sarcasm wrapped in flirtation, mixed with desire. From my end it was a moment come true. This man of many women’s dreams was actually paying me attention. I’ll unpack that later. For him, it was refreshing as he probably never experienced someone be quick on their toes and not fall captive to his authoritative, yet sweet demeanor. I was up for the challenge. As time progressed we would cross paths and the banter would continue. It always started with this warm and tight hug that made the m&ms in my pocket melt! His smell was the grownest of all men and his chuckle was always so sweet. I had to start asking God if this was a joke and if so, why me?
Fast forward back to this weekend, He approached the bar and in typical fashion spoke to the guys he knew and proceeded to hug me. We exchanged a few jabs that were decorated with smiles and started taking a few devil juice shots. I’ve never been a woman to always take a drink from a man without offering one back. I have never appreciated handouts because they backfire. So for me, buying you a drink in return in my way of not allowing anyone to have a “one up” on me. #LifeIsAGameAndIPlayItWell. He mentions that someone in the bar found him attractive and we quickly mentioned it. So I decided to lace up my gym shoes and shoot my shot.
In that moment, it was my chance. I was in game 7 of the playoffs and I had to make this winning shot. I had more sweat on my forehead than Lebron and Steff Curry’s knees. I could legit create a swimming pool and Kendrick Lamar would dive in. My mind was telling me no and problematic ass R Kelly was telling me “girl say something!” I reached deep in my bag, got in, then got out, to only get back in my bag again and told Him “to be honest and transparent, I thought you were very attractive when I first met you..”
The ball hit all net right as the buzzer went off. I saw his dark chocolate cheeks flash red as the blue and purple lights bounced off his misty skin from the heat of the club. I ALMOST RAN OUT THE DAMN CLUB WHILE SNATCHING MY JERSEY OFF. I RUINED THE PLAYOFFS. So I thought.
He looked me in my eyes, firmly grasped my wrist and said “You can’t tell your friend”. Clearly y’all reading this so that rule was broken. “..I’m going to invite you over and tongue you down. But you have to promise you won’t catch any feelings.” I legit thought I was tripping. I couldn’t fathom what he said and quickly pulled out my phone to write a note of what I heard. When I read it again and figured out what he said was true…it was game time.
WE IN THERE!!! TO THE WINDOOOOWWWW TO THE WALL…
In that moment I questioned what grown man over 30 is still kissing people but to hell with it. Then I got mad because I was told to suppress all my human emotions for a man I was attracted to. My liquor and common sense were scrapping like a mf in my head. I started to get a headache. My common sense put the liquor in a chokehold and I struggled to continued to listen. “I’m going to do this so you know what to look for when the next man enters your life” he said. I was crushed. In that moment I felt wanted, big, and small in the same damn thought. I quickly tried to tell him that it wasn’t my intention to create this bogus contract of sexual favors because I mentioned his attractiveness. NEWSFLASH, people can find someone cute without wanting them! You stuck up mfs. But it didn’t matter. My feelings were hurt and my pride was played. He took away our friendship and replaced it with this sexual contractual agreement that could only be discussed in the dark.
Oh shit, almost for got to tell y’all HE HAS A WHOLE GIRLFRIEND AND I ACKNOWLEDGED THAT. When I mentioned her, he smiled with those sexy teeth, shook his head, looked down, and proceeded to converse…about us. Granted, he never mentioned her but IG don’t lie. You don’t take baecations with your cousins my g.
I stood there upset as I lost a “here and there” moment with someone and I was now reflecting in a club looking like a typical drunken dummy. I was confused. HELLA confused. How did this escalate so quickly? How did I just get offered pitty big girl sex? At this point, we have to fight bruh. I need you in the nearest parking lot to catch these slaps. These hands are now registered and lethal. You straight disrespected me and I needed answers.
I left the club and hopped in my friend’s car. I went home drunk, angry, and reminded that I was a plus sized body that was only desired when it was in the dark or if no one knew.
The following ran thoughts my head:
1. I felt wanted. This man was everything I could want in a mate. Attractive, educated, and secure in himself. He made me feel protected and strong while reminding me that I didn’t always have to have an alpha female persona. Out of all the people in the room, I felt he only saw me. As a big girl, this never happens. Prior to this moment it was never explicit that there was sexual intentions between him and I. For one, I never thought I could get that type of man, so I never considered it.
2. I felt small. In two ways. My size didn’t mean a thing in that space. He didn’t say I like you for a big girl or even make reference to my size. In previous discussions, I always joked about my size, cunningly of course, to see his reaction and he always noted or beat me to the punch by saying I was beautiful. I also felt small because I was diminished in that space to a sexual experience. He said he wanted to tongue me down as if he was doing me a favor to get me off his back. He reduced my feelings to nothing as he asked me to promise not to catch feelings like that shit is controllable. MF I like you! But I always played it so cool, maybe he thought I had the control.
3. I didn’t have control and I felt big. My body was big and his ability to see me as more than that wasn’t apparent. He reminded me that no matter how many degrees I obtained, brands I successfully launched, how laid back I was…I was still an undesirable big body. I wasn’t more than someone he would have for the moment. He reminded me of all the pain and humor that is thrown at big bodies from people who only deal with us for an “experience” to say they tried it. He offered his body as some sort of elixir that would temporarily fix my “brokenness” or fatness until the right man could come along and take me off his hands. He dehumanized me in that moment. He reminded me that even a man who shows himself as a good guy, is a total fuck boy. I bet not catch him at church.
For the bigger bodies out there, liked or desired for the moment, in the dark, as a fetish, or as pitty sex don’t fall for the bullshit. I can’t promise you that one day your love will come because my stupid ass thought it was him. #Fail. But nevertheless, keep it pushing. Keep putting you first! The next morning I woke up and deleted the text message threads we had and blocked him on Instagram and Facebook. But, with all the fuckness I saved a picture of him. LORD’T. He is still fine, but not fine for me. He is still educated but dumb as shit. I’ll delete this picture one day but for now I’m still trying to understand. I’ll be good by Friday. Y’all pray for me. Send me a DM and check on me.