This counts as a revolutionary act as a person of size in 2017: stating to the world that you should swipe right if you’re attracted to me and not worry that you’re going to forever be known as a chubby-chaser.
I’ll admit, I used to feel pressure to overcompensate for my plus-size body. If I had to guess, I’d say this behavior is the result of years and years of never seeing my body represented anywhere in a positive way.
I pushed it into every part of my profile, just to make sure whoever was taking a peak would know what they were getting into first. Women who look like me in TV shows and movies are always the unaware, funny fat friend. We are the comic relief; the food obsessed; the desexualized maternal character. In fact, I’m very much known for my act-first dating method — basically going up to people at bars and saying, “Hi, I’m Laura. I’m sitting over at the bar if you think I’m cute and want to keep chatting.” I have fought through the self-hatred to come out on the other side with a This is not to say that you shouldn’t write out a descriptor of your body on a dating app. I’m the first to talk openly about the plus-size experience; ready and willing!
You’re a person with so much to give to the world regardless of your size.
My only dating regret is that it took me an exorbitant amount of time to realize this.
My way of being like, — the world’s saddest caveat to basically admitting that I know you’re settling and . And that’s how I thought I’d have to live out my existence: being someone’s settling point, fetish, one-time try. But I’m constantly thinking about the why I can’t just live without having my size be proverbially attached my attractiveness or worth.
I’ll put it this way: Maybe just stop and ask yourself why you’re mentioning it. I wasn’t expecting to be so attracted to a bigger girl.
The issue is that I don’t immediately put a warning label for my body in my profile.
While some may consider this an act of size deception, it’s more of an act of considering myself part of the norm and not a niche.
I’ve even had people ask why I don’t mention my body type in my profile so that “people can search better.” The simple reason: I’m not a category. I’d like to think we’ve moved past reducing plus-size bodies into their own dating nook; safely cornered away as to not be grouped with the coupling of straight-size people.