Fat Intersectionality
I have always been fat. I was a fat kid, fat as an athlete in school, and was a fat teenager. I still am fat. It wasn’t until a few years ago that social media directed me to the fat positive space. This space was created by fat Black women. It has since been co-opted to be a body positivity space with slews of thin white women posting about body acceptance while sharing zero images of super-fat folks, especially not fat Black women or fat women of color. As a fat white woman, it is important that I point out and elevate the voices of fat Black women and women of color.
Jordan wearing a “Believe Women” shirt, standing in front of a cement wall.
There was a time in my life when I thought it would be amazing to have the confidence of a fat Black woman. I wasn’t aware of my privilege as a fat white woman, and instead only saw how they held themselves in such a way that I could never imagine. They wore clothing that I wished to, but did not feel that I could. In my eyes, they were flawless. Their confidence only elevated my feeling. It didn’t occur to me that their entire existence was scrutinized - probably tenfold - in comparison to mine. Today, I am learning and continuing to grow my understanding of the intersections of who we all are, Black or brown, queer, disabled, and trans, while also existing in a fat body.
The sociologist Sabrina Strings wrote an important book called, Fearing the Black Body and it is filled with research of our society’s obsession with diet culture and fatphobia. Spoiler alert: it is all rooted in racism. Just like everything else in this world, our entire history of hating larger bodies begins with hating Black bodies. It should be no surprise then that fat Black women are subjected to the bulk of discrimination in this society, especially when navigating their healthcare, which is an intersection that plays heavily into my personal navigation of being a fat woman because I am a nurse.
My entire professional education and training has taught me that I am unhealthy and at risk for diseases because of my size. All of the work that I’ve done with the help of an amazing eating disorder therapist has started to unravel that conditioned way of thinking, but she also pushed me to be a voice of reason and fat advocate in my workspace. Some key points: thin people have aches, pains, need joint replacements, diabetes, high blood pressure, and heart diseases. A certain weight does not equal good health.
It was at my last job, a well-known hospital in Beverly Hills, when I first applied my therapist’s advice. I was sitting in a space where one colleague was telling another that she was on a juice fast and it wasn’t fair that they were eating around her. She said, “I am not eating because I don’t want to get…” and trailed off as she was about to say “fat” and saw me. I finished the sentence for her. I said, “Fat? What’s wrong with being fat?” and she stumbled around her words. This felt better than any drug I had ever tried. Watching a thin white woman, in Beverly Hills, struggle to explain why she didn’t want to look like me was my new jam.
Fatphobia and diet culture consume all of us in this world, but living and working in Los Angeles as a fat person is a daily, toxic, traumatic experience. Add to that the fact that I am working in a space that focuses on the faulty BMI calculations to guide their discussions. I worked in oncology where the only diet we suggested for folks on chemo is to eat whatever they can. As a fat nurse, I applauded my patients’ ability to consume only ice cream all day because at least they were getting sugar and carbs to provide energy.
I’ve sat in consultations with nutritionists and oncologists telling our patients that they should not be limiting their sugar based on a misunderstanding that sugar feeds cancer. Sugar feeds all of our cells, and it is the nourishment that keeps our brains alive. While these things were positives throughout my day, I also had to navigate my entire workspace being filled with colleagues on fasts, signing up for weight loss challenges and Fit Bit groups.
I now work in a healthcare tech company, which I had hoped meant that the toxic environment would be lessened, but somehow it is worse. Every day is a struggle to not be triggered and fall down the hole of hating myself. Everyday I am confronted with people worried that their 18 almonds were too much or that they cannot stand near a plate of cookies in the kitchen because they cannot control themselves. Everyday I want to speak up and say something, but it is becoming more exhausting.
I would much rather fight on behalf of my Black and brown coworkers, or educate someone on their use of gendered language. I’ve realized this is because I think that my own experiences are not as worthy. My empathy for others has somehow surpassed my own fight against what affects my personal mental health.
I recently came to the conclusion that because my experience in this fatphobic world is shared with fat Black women, it is important. Because it affects them more severely than it does myself, if I push back anytime I hear it, I may be able to change that person’s mind. I might make them think a little differently about their fatphobia, and in turn they won’t make the same mistake when sitting with their fat Black friends.
We need to do better.
About Jordan:
Jordan is an oncology research nurse and fat femme writer. She uses her social media accounts to promote her writing and to make space for voices that go unheard, whether it’s through her own words or sharing their posts. Her mission is to educate people (the white community specifically) on social justice issues specifically surrounding systemic racism toward black folks, the continued oppression of Black womxn, the importance of race in every discussion, and her LGBTQ+ community.
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