I used to have a “serious” blog. Once upon a time - in 2009 - I had a blog all about “becoming a writer.” I called it If They Can Do It… and I wrote all about my jobs, my friends and posted photos that weren’t screencaps from Boy Meets World.

It was a dark time.

But then I got Tumblr. And because of Tumblr (and all of you guys - followers, non-followers and/or people that found this by searching Ryan Gosling pants party (you’re welcome!)), I got to blog and re-blog and post work and not post work and be inspired and entertained each and every day by some of the wickedest people on the internet. Goodbye, serious blog! Good riddance to you! All in all, the right choices were made. And it’s been fun - and it IS fun (I’M NOT GOING ANYWHERE). But sometimes - like today - I have to take a step out of my re-blogging of cats and actually talk about something a little different than anything I usually talk about. Because last night, somebody at a function I was at made a comment about my/women’s/anyone’s weight.

Now, I’m not sure if the comment was directed at me specifically. The person I had been actually talking to (not the weight commenter) was making fun of the fact that I still get carded at the liquor store. Lovingly. Person #1 and I were laughing and talking and joking around, and in that conversation, I made a comment about me being part of the “over 25 rule” and looking back, I don’t even really know what that meant. But that’s when Weight Commenter stepped in and said, “Oh, the fat rule.”

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

WHAT.

This person wasn’t joking. But just in case, I asked him what he said - twice (each being a little more confrontational than the last) - and was ignored. By a 50-year-old man. By a 50-year-old man who was commenting about women’s weight. To a woman. Who he was related to. But I thought maybe I was overreacting. I mean, maybe it WAS a (terribly, terribly unfunny) joke! Maybe I had heard wrong. That’s possible! Sometimes when people say “And” I think they’re saying my name. But when I looked over at my cousin’s 14-year-old friend who was sitting beside W.C., and he was looking back at me with a look of horror and fear, I knew I wasn’t mishearing, overreacting or looking for an argument.

Nope, I hadn’t heard wrong.

So I left. And I went somewhere else, and I had a drink and I talked to my family and I texted my friend who confirmed that I was not overreacting. But not because I believed him. 

Obviously, as a 26-year-old female, I’ve played with weight issues since I knew what weight issues were. And sadly, that is one of the most unoriginal confessions that exist in the world. Most of us have or have had issues with weight. It took me until this year to finally feel happy (ish) about how I look, but there are still days where I feel like shit and I feel fat and I look at people in magazines and I wish I looked like them. But I try - as most people do - and finally, after about ten years, “trying” doesn’t consist of just not eating anymore. And to be honest, I still struggle with wanting to “try” in an unhealthy sense every single day.

So what got me angry was that this man felt he could have an opinion. This 50-something MAN thought he could make a general consensus on WOMEN’S weight. On women over 25. To his 5’8, size 8/10 niece. Because he thought he could. Because maybe he thinks women owe him something. I’m not sure. I should have asked or made him talk to me, but I was so angry I couldn’t be rational and my face would have melted off my body and I would have morphed into a combination of Shrieky and what Flanders turned into when he was the Devil and screamed “YOU ARE NOT SMARTER THAN ME!” at Homer Simpson. And maybe he was joking - but that doesn’t matter. It wasn’t funny. And until these type of poor ignorant souls realize that even passing comments like these make women feel like shit - like they have to conform to some undersize norm - more and more women will feel like they have to look a certain way for somebody else or they might as well not even go outside.

That’s not true. 

The only person you should be dressing for/eating for/living for is you. You know how boring life would be if we all looked the same? We’d be walking, breathing hospital walls. Bland. We’re awesome because we’re unique and we’re different, and as long as you’re healthy (ex. going for a walk! making sure you have enough vegetables in your diet! drinking water! other things that a dietician or health care professional would be better suited to tell you!), that is ALL THAT MATTERS.

I probably don’t need to tell you this. You have been told this information by everybody with a computer and a keyboard and a brain and a heart about why this weird damaging idea of body image should be ignored and shut down. But just in case, I am reminding you again. Maybe because I wish someone other than my Mom and Dad and friends had reminded me when I felt like shit or thought I looked fat - I DON’T KNOW. (Or maybe because I wanted to say all of this last night to that douchebag who felt he had a right to comment on the way women look.) The options! They’re endless!

But unfortunately, there will always be somebody like this man. This man is just one of too many who feel entitled to weigh in (here all week, guys!) on women’s curves, lack of curves, mixture of curves or general appearance. Just like there will always be people who are racist or homophobic or tragically small-minded. Some people will not change. But WE can. We can have each other’s backs and build each other’s self esteem and remind each other that these guys know just as much about how someone should look as the lamp currently sitting next to my desk. Like that famous song says, YOU’VE GOT THE POWER. 

“Over 25” rule be damned!

/Rant