And I know what you’re thinking. “But didn’t you just ask all the boys of summer to white lie you, not tell you the whole truth, wrap you up in sugar coating and all that?” And the answer is yes. Emphatically YES!
But here’s the thing of the thing. There’s a big difference between knowing the truth and wanting to hear the truth. Knowing the truth and sharing that truth with others who didn’t ask for it. Sometimes the truth should just keep its damn nose to itself. Boys. I’m just sayin’.
But other times. I have to shout it. I want to shout it. About myself. I have to say it. Outloud. Because it’s the truth. I’m okay with it. And I kinda wish you would be too. But I won’t force you.
I am self-aware. True Story
I prefer terms like Chubby Bunny and Pleasantly Plump. Hate terms like BBW and Obese. But a spade is a spade and I could be a Biggest Loser contestant. And before you get all, “But that’s not all you are” and “you’re beautiful and you’re smile…” it’s cool…I know. But this isn’t that blog post.
This is about dating and it’s correlation to body size. Specifically MY Vancouver dating pool and its kiddie pool size in relation to the wide net I wish I could cast. While there may be plenty of fish in the sea there are very few fish swimming in my plus size online bird bath.
So why is my dating pool the size of a bird bath? Partly it’s a numbers thing (with Vancouver being a fairly small city, not to mention one highly characterized by granola eating hippies and organic produce buying yuppies (love ya :P)) but mostly it’s a Darwinian selection thing. When selecting a mate, it’s in your best interest to pick one that is strong and durable. It’s a sexual attraction thing. It’s a live-for-a-long-time kinda thing. Sure you can’t predict the future and you’re mate could be hit by a bus tomorrow. But it’s a hedge-your-bets type thing.
And I get it. I’m guilty of it too. I’ve always said I didn’t want to date somebody else who was obese. Fuck we’d probably just bounce off of each other. All kidding aside though. It’s the truth. I’m not attracted to majorly overweight guys. And I know you’re thinking that’s cold, girl. But here’s the thing of the thing. It has less to do with how they look than what the weight signifies (to me).
To me, the weight reveals everything. They have issues. They have stuff to deal with. And before you say something ignorant like, I know lots of happy fat people. Think. I mean really think. Chris Farley. Kirstie Alley. Elvis. Oprah. Me anytime before 2 years ago and after I was twelve. Jus sayin’. And yes I know everybody has issues. I had issues. I have less issues now. And because I’m looking for fun fun fun dating. I don’t want boys with issues. I want boys that have less issues. Like how I have less issues.
Okay so maybe losers is a bit harsh. But spot me some leeway. Call it wordsmithing and poetic license and dramatic effect and all that. Thematic significance and we all know I love themes. It just fits. And for Christ sakes! I know you’ll at least cosign that the “somethings” and “potential somethings” I’ve been dating aren’t “winners”.
My theory is this…..
Sidebar: Okay so I’ve written and rewritten the end of that sentence like 20 times and nothing feels…well…like something I could write and not be judged for being a totally politically incorrect asshole. So I’m just going to be a politically incorrect HONEST asshole.
My theory is this…until I’m the biggest loser (read: not obese) I’ll have to settle for the biggest losers (read: not physicist smart, not highly educated, not super confident/manly/ballsy, not always tall, sometimes no dates at all). Now don’t get all, Oh SSD?!? (hands on your hips and disapproving pout) on me. Because frankly I know I deserve to spend time with wonderful awesome guys. I think I’m awesome. It’s not a self-esteem thing. It’s a reality thing. And I’m okay with that. most of the time.
I am university educated. I have big boobs and a nice smile. Some boys have said nice eyes. My friends appear to like me. At parties I’m sociable and said to be funny (people have been known to laugh). I’m adventurous and I’ve been out in the world (read: I have things to talk about). I’m independent (read: have lots of my own interests). I’m a dynamo in bed. (okay that one I’m just hoping is true and if not a girl can always learn with enough enthusiasm right?)
So why wouldn’t the dates be pouring in? Why aren’t I being bombarded online and courted offline.
I have one theory. It has something to do with where the men are. The ones with balls of steel and Chuck Norris swagger…Read More Here
For another perspective on this topic there are some amazingly wonderful and lovely ladies who have weighed in on this topic: Cece @ The Big Girl Blog, Lucky Girl @ How Very Lucky, and KB @ KB In NYC. They all make some really awesome points.
Unfortunately unlike Lucky Girl, I haven’t been all sorts of different body sizes. I’ve just been the one. Big. I haven’t been a normal weight since before I had hips (which ironically occurred late though I had boobs by grade four). So I don’t have anything to compare my current dating life to.
But that’s all about to change. Because you all know me and science. I can’t simply accept an idea, a notion, a claim. I have to test it. And I’m not going to get into but my life is the peachiest it’s ever been in my entire life. Except this one last thing. My weight. So not only is this the summer of boys. But it’s also the summer I become the biggest loser. So wish me luck. I’ll keep you posted on any inverse correlational details. And for reference…the tally thus far.
Weeks Since the Summer of Boys Began: 5
Total “Somethings” Dated During the Summer of Boys: 3
Total “Somethings” Dated: 5
Total “Pounds” Shed During the Summer of Boys: 12
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