Corissa Enneking / fatgirlflow and Juliana "J" Aprileo / comfyfattravels - Delusional fat-acceptance lesbian couple, junk-food addicts with expensive taste

[Crepidodera fulvicornis]

Her health problems, her social challenges, her dating life, her desire for surgery, her pain, her mobility problems and everything else she complains about is directly linked to her gargantuan weight. The world is not going to change for her, and she will never change herself for the world.

She did almost verbatim say that “I want the world to change for me”

 

[Thomas Eugene Paris]

J now wants boob removal but those damn fatphobic doc's wont do it!

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J of course paywalled the post at:
https://www.patreon.com/posts/gender-euphoria-52669439

Why do all of these people expect to feel euphoria all the time? It's not even something that sounds pleasant; it gives me a Slurms McKenzie vibe.

 

[Chamaelirium]

J must be huffing and puffing from her exertions building strawmen on patreon. She is correct, there are lots of very thin people who fall and can't get up. 99.99999% of them are very tiny old women over the age of 80, poor dears who are slowly wasting away and look like the old lady from the titanic or the life alert commercial.

"It happens to thin people too" obesity activists cry, conveniently failing to get any more specific than that. Thin people also get type 2 diabetes and break chairs, and some deathfats live to 100....so what? What we are talking about when we criticize the pro-weight gain and anti-weight-loss movement is the statistically more probable health outcomes you align yourself with if you elect to carry hundreds of pounds of excess weight as you age.

Maybe there is a demographic I am unaware of, but thirtysomethings who "fall and cant get up" (if they aren't fellow deathfats) belong to the cohort of people with a legitimate disability (like paralysis), nearly all of whom would LOVE to have the option to cure themselves by just eating less.

 

[GenociderSyo]

$190 for a tarp. Even scarier they mostly "sold out."

Awww there 7X wouldn't even fit GlitterandLazers hips....

 

[Free the Pedos]

I feel like these two have a professional photo session every other week. It’s weird and self obsessed.

 

[multiverse]

Why do all of these people expect to feel euphoria all the time? It's not even something that sounds pleasant; it gives me a Slurms McKenzie vibe.

This times infinity.

No one is owed constant euphoria in their lives. People who seek it are addicts, like Jay and her parents. It means they are constantly seeking to hide from reality, because reality isn't nonstop euphoria.

And all the gender cult members who promise this euphoria after you get all the hormones and surgery are selling a pipe dream of Nirvana on earth, if only you follow XYZ steps. There is no such state. Not even all the food and hormones and surgery and heroin and mushrooms and Xanax and MDMA would get you and keep you there. It doesn't exist.

This is why so many trans people commit suicide in increased numbers after their "gender confirming" treatment: they find out that wherever you go, there you are, and all the good feelings and happy days they were promised was a lie. Life is what you make of it, and there's no magic formula to instant, perfect, never ending happiness.

It's a dangerous lie that's been sold to an entire generation.

 

[Free the Pedos]

This is why so many trans people commit suicide in increased numbers after their "gender confirming" treatment: they find out that wherever you go, there you are, and all the good feelings and happy days they were promised was a lie. Life is what you make of it, and there's no magic formula to instant, perfect, never ending happiness.

Reminds me of something I used to hear recovered addicts say: "Wherever you go, you're there." Meaning no matter what external things you change (location, appearance, etc), you can't escape yourself.

 

[DelicateMageflower]

I do believe there are trans folks who are legit; Chaz Bono is one that comes to mind. But Chaz also waited until much later in life (late 30s-early 40s I think) before making the transition. They took the time to get life experience and make sure this was really who they were. I don't get this generation's need to rush into transition, it only ends in disaster.

 

[Tathagata]

How funny is it that J works in the admin of a super woke college doing basically nothing, and still finds tons of shit to complain about? They're literally paying for you and your partner's healthcare, when everyone knows you're both ticking bombs in terms of a major health scare! It really proves that even in an environment tailored to her whims, she still can't be happy. It's almost like the problem was her all along.

 

[Bacchus god of wine]

I do believe there are trans folks who are legit; Chaz Bono is one that comes to mind. But Chaz also waited until much later in life (late 30s-early 40s I think) before making the transition. They took the time to get life experience and make sure this was really who they were. I don't get this generation's need to rush into transition, it only ends in disaster.

Precisely. I really don’t care about adults lopping off their dicks or tits if that’s what they decide—though if you act like J I’m going to laugh at you—but it makes me MATI when they encourage kids and their parents to go along with their cultlike ways. I truly believe that in 20 years there’ll be a multitude of lawsuits against the doctors who gave children prescriptions for hormones that would prevent them from developing properly. This “sex reassignment is liFe SAvInG” bullshit is fucking dangerous.

 

[Thomas Eugene Paris]

When I was 17, I had my first surgery. It was to remove a cyst on my lower spine. Okay fine, it was my ass. I had an internal cyst that needed to be removed as it posed a threat to my tailbone and spine. Still vulnerable and catering to internalized anti-fat bias, I asked a doctor I trusted before surgery if this happened to me because I was fat.

This interpretation is correct. The condition J is describing here is called a pilonidal abscess. It almost always occurs in the same location - at the top of the asscrack between the cheeks - and begins when shed body hair is trapped in the crack, and buries itself under the skin like a splinter. The resulting irritation can be exacerbated by friction from tight clothing, sitting on your ass too much, and the skin chafing which has plagued fat fucks the world over for time immemorial. Sometimes, a cyst forms in the irritated area and goes unnoticed because deathfats cannot clean themselves and are always experiencing some kind of irritation in one fold or another. The cyst fills with shed skin cells, hair, and other debris. The area is always moist and dark, and bacteria love that shit. The cyst becomes infected and fills with pus. This is usually when it's noticed, because it's extremely painful, stinky, and may cause systemic symptoms like fever and chills. Treatment involves making an incision in the asscrackal area to excise and drain the cheesy, festering sac of deathfat asschowder. I cannot emphasize to you how unpleasant this is for all involved. Even after soaking the tissue in formaldehyde for hours and then encasing it in paraffin, the rotten ass smell permeates everything in the lab. Once you've encountered it, it isn't something that you can forget.

It's technically true that anyone can get a pilonidal abscess - they can occur between the fingers of hairdressers, for example - but the vast majority occur in people who are some combination of:

1. Hirsute. The more hair you have on your back and ass, the higher the likelihood of one getting stuck under your skin. Having very coarse body hair can also be a contributing factor.

2. Male. Male gonads (testicles) produce more testosterone than female gonads (ovaries) do. Higher levels of testosterone mean more abundant body hair. Muh gender binary aside, having too much adipose tissue, i.e., being a genderless fat fuck, causes dysregulation of hormone production. This, in turn, can lead to virilization of body hair pattern in biological women.

3. Obese. Fat people cannot clean themselves as well as normal weight people. Their skin, especially within folds, is colonized by God knows what on a good day. The asscrack, being both within the blast radius of sloppy deathfat shits and difficult to reach, is particularly fecund area for all kinds of critters, like the Central Valley of California in size 7X gym shorts from Walmart. Additionally, deathfats often have issues with chafing in their skin folds. Once the skin in an area like a deathfat asscrack is compromised, it's extremely difficult to get it to heal. Even microscopic tears in the skin are enough to allow bacteria in, and that's how you end up with an infection.

4. Sedentary. Sitting for long periods of time, especially if you're a gigantic fatass, can push hair fragments under the skin. It can also cause breakdown or ulceration of skin and impair circulation to the area. People who have sedentary desk jobs may be at increased risk of pilonidal cyst formation. Let us not forget that J made her employer provide a special bariatric office chair for her to cram herself into during the workday.

So, yes. Skinny people can totally get pilonidal cysts, too! Except they usually don't.

 

[Constellationzero]

How funny is it that J works in the admin of a super woke college doing basically nothing, and still finds tons of shit to complain about? They're literally paying for you and your partner's healthcare, when everyone knows you're both ticking bombs in terms of a major health scare! It really proves that even in an environment tailored to her whims, she still can't be happy. It's almost like the problem was her all along.

Because Identity Politics and Social Justice not only incentivizes victimhood, it explicitly states victimhood is a point of personal pride. Accountability and being held to standards is for the other guys, not stunning and brave goldbrickers like these two!

That's why normal people, corporations, and colleges need to straighten up and come to terms with the reality that shit like this absolutely creates a friendly atmosphere where anybody can look at an "oppressed" individual and ask themselves: "How can I get in on this?"
It's like they truly believe that humans, flaws and all, can never act in bad faith.

RE: deathfat cyst caused by colonizing bacteria.

Well gee... Shouldn't Julianna be actively fighting to dismantle and erase colonization as it is the insidious tool of White Supremacy??

 

[Sweet Yuzu]

Spoiler: Boredom is a Bad Thing

Been preparing and collecting some goodies for ya guys for about a month now.

J Patreon Deep Dive (AKA she has 238 rant and other posts dating back to 2019):
Some posts are locked behind different pay walls demanding 15 or more dollars...fuck that shit....

Supposedly her parents are mentally ill addicts:
"For a little context, my family back in Massachusetts is falling apart. My parents live in poverty and their mental illnesses and addictions are really taking a toll on them. I feel such guilt for being so far away. I feel guilt for not wanting to be in it with them. I feel sad for their pain. At the same time, I feel good about the boundaries I'm setting up with them. But I feel guilty for needing them in the first place.,,,
....I had mentioned that my mom was in the hospital (very briefly) on Instagram a few weeks ago. She has some pretty debilitating mental health stuff and hospitalizations are not uncommon."

She confirms in a post she works for the FINANCIAL AID DEPARTMENT of that school.
"Every single day I wake up and get myself to this desk for my day job and it hurts my soul. Every time. I prepare myself by listening to my Mood Boost playlist. I dance and stretch and get my attitude ready. I practice my lines, "Financial aid, how can I help you? Yes we are now test optional for the 2021-2022 academic year. Your past due balance of $19,908 is due by June 15th. We cannot accept payment over the phone. Have you cleared your browsing history?" Does it even make me anxious anymore? Or is it just that it feels soul numbing because now I understand how much of college is just a big fucking scam?"

She also confirms she works for the health insurance for her and Corrissa:
"The biggest benefit with my job is the health insurance for my partner and I."

Spoiler: 2019

She admits back in 2019 that she was pretty much in the house only that she cannot do basic tasks required when leaving the house.

She also was unable to get up from the floor or even sit unsupported:
"Getting down on the ground is hard for me mobility wise. Im scared of not being able to get up. I wonder sometimes if my thin peers realize how much thought goes into being a fat person in public. Will I be able to get down there without hurting myself? And up? How will I sit comfortably without tipping over? Will people look at me funny while I roll all over the place trying to get comfortable? What if I cant get up? Who can I ask discreetly to help me?"

She got pissed at one point that a brand refused to give her free shit or pay her for collaboration after she bought their products so she does a huge ass rant about how she can't reccomend or tag them.



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J doing normal tasks is odd:

That lake they go to and skinny dip in is public....
"We went to the lake today and I wore these really stretchy bike shorts that go up over my belly and a sports bra top thing as my suit, (because who cares, right? I'm there to LAY. To Float). I was so comfortable and so present for the majority of the time....
....The hardest part for me has been figuring out a way to feel safe and okay when teens see me. When I emerge from the water in all of my fat glory, they stare. And that is okay. They're just kids. But when they laugh, point, snicker, take photos etc...it gets rough. Part of me fully understands that they are children, they aren't to blame."

She was already giving her job shit and being annoying before she hit orientation no idea why they kept her:
"THEN! I was scheduled to do a tour of the entire facility which is HUGE. Stairs, hills, multiple buildings, long stretches of walking, keeping up with a group etc. I sent my supervisor an email about how I might need to find creative solutions around it and she scheduled a private meeting for us to talk about it. In that meeting she started by asking my concerns and needs. Then she went over a detailed description of what the tour would look like, so that I could make a decision for myself based on what to truly expect. She offered to give me her phone number so that she could pick me up in her car if I needed to tap out. She said she could request an extra slow tour with the guide, a no stairs tour etc. The fact that she was so open to problem solving and actually TAKING ON the emotional labor of doing the work just...it meant so much to me.

After having all the info, I told her I really felt it would be too difficult for me to participate at all. My instinct was to apologize and try and make sure she knew I wasn't just trying to get out of doing something. (I still struggle with feeling burdensome - I'm working on it. Its funny how I also feel like I need to make sure people don't think I'm just being a lazy fat person too. Another thing to work on I suppose!). She handled it in the best way. She reassured me that I had no need to apologize. She said she was glad I shared my needs and that she would just simply come up with something else for me to do while everyone else was touring."

Spoiler: Fatphobia and Dating

Today we’re talking about fatphobic "preferences" when it comes to dating. I mentioned over on my Instagram that excluding fat people from your dating pool is fatphobic. This was followed by both angry DM's, as well as confused and genuinely curious responses.

Have you ever said any of these phrases?​

“Oh I'm just not attracted to fat people. Its not fatphobic its just a preference! Just like I prefer tall men.”
“Some people just aren't into blondes, its the same thing as not being into fat people. Just a preference, everyone has preferences.”

Your dating preferences are fatphobic.​

You're not a bad person. Nor are you abnormal. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that many people feel this way, whether they've got the awareness to name it or not. The truth is, everyone's got preferences. However, we don't usually date people strictly defined by those preferences. For example, there are tons of people who have a preference for tall babes. But when making connections, they don't write people off simply for being on the shorter side. We rarely end up with people who fall within the narrow lines of our preferences. Still, we have characteristics we consider ideal.
Though common, this thinking is harmful and requires reflection. Fatphobia is pervasive in our culture. Its everywhere. And we are each a product of the culture in which we were raised. So if the world tells us that thin is good and fat is bad, of course we'll believe it without question. But, as adults who care about our impact on the world, it's important that we do question these beliefs. If we don't push ourselves to be critical of the ways we treat others, and call each other out on our shit, how will we ever grow to be more socially aware humans? This is why I truly like to look at these moments as opportunities for growth.

Lets start with what it means to be fatphobic.​

Fatphobia isn't actually about having a phobia of or extreme anxiety about fat. It's more about having ingrained beliefs that perpetuate negative stereotypes and forward discrimination against fat people. It's about everything from the systemic oppression that affects fat people based on their size, hindering their ability to get hired, receive proper medical care etc., to microaggressions that affect the day to day interactions that fat people experience that fill us with shame. Having a preference for tall people, or against blondes, is a bit different than perpetuating anti-fat bias.

Blondes don't experience systemic oppression that negatively impacts their lives based solely on their hair color.​

Comparing the two “preferences” from the example above, just doesn't hold up. There is a difference between excluding people because you've got some weird thing against blondes versus upholding fatphobic narratives around who is beautiful, attractive, and worthy of your time; actions which have real life consequences for fat people. Read this article to learn more about how anti-fat bias impacts fat people's lives and how those with thin privilege can combat this.

Let's look at it differently.​

Okay, so lets change the group of people we're referencing for a second. Instead of saying you have a preference for thin people, let's change it to having a preference for white people. Yikes, right? Clearly racist. Upholding white supremacist ideals. The similarity here is in the exclusion of a group/many groups of people based on being part of a marginalized identity. This requires some reflection if you're a social justice minded person looking to dismantle systems of oppression.
Fatphobia is pervasive. Not only are there systems in place that actively work against fat people's success and wellbeing, it's normalized in our culture. We equates fatness to laziness, unhealthiness, and ugliness. We make assumptions about fat people's lives, their morality, and their value, based on their weight.
"They must not like being active. They must not care about their health. They've let themselves go. They've failed. They have no discipline. They smell. They eat shitty foods all day. They just want to sit on the couch. They don't date, couldn't fall in love, or have someone fall in love with them. They definitely don't have sex and if they do, gross! How do they even do it?"
Do you see how harmful this is? To clump an entire group of people into the “not for me” category based on narratives that devalue, dehumanize, stigmatize, and shame people for their size, is to say that every fat person is the same, and further, not worth your time.

Check Yourself​

So how do we combat these harmful narratives and change our ways of thinking? Ask yourself questions like the ones below when you catch yourself disregarding someone based on their size.
What kind of assumptions am I making about their abilities based on their body/what they look like?
What do I actually know about this person? Their lifestyle? Their values? How they spend their time?
What makes me really attracted to someone? Is it about their body or who they are as a person?
If there are accessibility concerns, do I feel competent in addressing them/communicating about them? Is it possible to problem solve?
Am I putting someone's worth in a place that aligns with my values?
Today we’re talking about fatphobic "preferences" when it comes to dating. I mentioned over on my Instagram that excluding fat people from your dating pool is fatphobic. This was followed by both angry DM's, as well as confused and genuinely curious responses.

​

Spoiler: 2020

Who knew she vapes:
View attachment 2282429

And indulges in weed:

"Bathrooms are so frustrating for me, because its complicated. I don't personally care which bathroom I use, as its just for going pee dangit! Whatever is cleanest and available I'm fine to use. I don't care about the label on the outside, but other folks do. It is in fact because of the public nature of shared bathrooms that I do feel slightly more comfortable in a womens room than a mens room. It only irks me to have to choose because of how public it is. I'm in a workplace where I am constantly reminding folks (well-intentioned folks who are doing well learning something new) that I use they/them pronouns. That I am not a "ma'am." I'm not one of the ladies. "

Spoiler: Fat Person Fall Down

Read this and thought of this SNL clip:

"Browsing Facebook, I find myself frequenting fat positive support groups. Looking for connection. Looking for reprieve. A virtual world of people just like me; sharing advice, hearing one another’s troubles, validating our experiences that we’ve been told to be ashamed of our entire lives. Our daily experiences are meant to be kept as secrets. The public does not want to see what it means for us to care for our fat bodies. So we share in our refuge, far from the thins who perpetuate our erasure and remind us that we are unworthy in this world.
I come across a post from a new person. The tone is frantic. Fearful. Humiliated, but desperate. I recognize this feeling. I’ve been here before. The author of the post has fallen on the floor. They are uninjured, but also unable to get up. Worse, their family couldn’t help them get up. So they are met with a choice: call emergency services and further involve more people into this vulnerable situation, or remain collapsed and wait for a creative solution that works. Just call the fire department or the police! They say. That’s what they’re there for! But we know what these people really think of us in these scenarios. Have you seen episodes in tv dramas where a fat person has to be air-lifted out of a building? How about one where the characters have to call in extra hands to help lift a fat person onto a gurney? It’s a running joke. We’re a running joke. And it renders us petrified to reach out for help when we need it.
The author ends the post with mention of feeling unworthy. The context in this is heavy. And I’d be confident in betting that all of us fat folks have felt this before. We don’t just feel unworthy of help from the fire department, or mobility devices. We feel undeserving of your time. We feel undeserving of resources in these moments. And sometimes, we feel unworthy of life.
Comments flooded in with support and validation. As I read through the 79, 80, 90 comments of love and advice, I’m in awe. I feel equal parts devastated and inspired. What a resource we are, fat people, to one another. The amount of vulnerability, thoughtfulness, and care that our community offers so freely inspires me. Yet the desperate whispers reaching for guidance among my people continues to wreck me. When will the world allow fat people’s experiences to be ordinary and shameless?
I recognize that my gut wrenching response to this post has a lot to do with my own fears around falling. Getting my superfat body up from the floor is difficult for me, though not impossible. I practice a few times a week to try not to lose my familiarity with it. I use furniture to assist and remain vigilant with every move. Let’s be intentional here. Gotta be thoughtful. Deep breaths. How can I get through this without injuring my back?
As my body changes, I find myself having a harder and harder time with movement and to be transparent, it does scare me. I’m fearful of having more limited mobility than I do currently. I’m fearful of adding more challenges to my life. I seek ways to expand my mobility; trying not to focus my attention on weight but on flexibility and strength. Because realistically, there are thin people who fall and cannot get up, and there are fat people who can get up and about much more easily than I can, right? There’s no need to attribute my desire to be stronger and more flexible to pursuing weight loss. It’s damaging to my mental and emotional health to do so. Always challenging internalized fatphobia. Always confronting my shit. Let’s just say it: it’s exhausting.
And fatphobia prevails some days, too. Sometimes it provides a challenging hurdle or two, other days it derails me from my intentions entirely. And then I read 100 comments from strangers holding space for one of us in their time of need and I find relief. I am alleviated of the burdens of my thin obsessed surroundings. I can breathe freely, heavily among my fat peers in this space. Even if just for tonight. We’re safe."

Spoiler: Deadnaming

I wanted to expand a little on the post I made on Instagram regarding the targeted transphobic harassment I’ve been facing. You know the one, where I call out the folks who have been deadnaming me. You see, I’ve been out as trans for almost 5 years. I’ve used the name J officially for that time as well. It’s me. I feel deeply to my core, J. But this name has been a part of me for much longer.
The name J was first a nickname I was given by a teacher in 8th grade, who I had a close relationship with and later served as something like a mentor in my story, (she was the first adult I confided in about my sexuality as a queer person). I look back on this nickname she gave me and wonder if she knew; she gave me this neutral name that made me feel so safe and seen, years before I learned how to verbalize my relationship with gender. What did she know? Perhaps just a welcome coincidence.
In my high school years I struggled with knowing that I didn’t fit in the binary, but I didn’t have the words to define that “problem.” I thought perhaps I was a transman and spent hours in evenings watching transition videos. I’d leave that activity feeling hopelessness and despair. I knew that a transition in my body would never look like the transitions on YouTube. I was fat. I never saw a fat trans man. So therefore it must not be a thing. Or, perhaps it was internalized transphobia telling me that in order to really be trans you had to be binary passing. And I knew that fat bodies are coded as female in our society; wide hips and butts don’t belong on men. What a narrow definition of gender. I’m glad I’ve moved away from that narrative.
So at 24, I started a job at a social service agency working with queer and trans youth and, I found myself. I learned about the gender binary and the world of possibilities and I decided to start going by J exclusively. My coworkers, peers, friends and family all embraced this change. They saw what it meant to me and I felt so empowered in my skin for the first time. And for the most part, I’ve really been able to live carefree in that. My environment supported and respected me. I didn’t really feel a need to push for legal changes to my name.
It’s interesting to me how my birth name or rather, my deadname, has held a range of meanings to me over the years. At first, it was really important to me that folks only use the name J. And it felt triggering when I saw my deadname on mail and insurance cards. In the 5 years of sharing my trans identity with the world I had grown increasingly protective of the identity associated with that deadname. That’s not quite what I mean. I mean that, the feeling that my deadname was a secret because of how society perceived me when associated with that name, grew heavier in my heart. The fear of my parents making a mistake and calling me the wrong name in front of my Kansas family, who, for by some grace of a higher power had not yet been exposed to, multiplied. I grew anxious that my gender façade would be revealed; that the curtains would be pulled back and the person they believed me to be would no longer be how I was pleading for the world to view me.
'What’s in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet."
As my internet presence began to grow, as did the haters. Trolls, bullies, insecure lonely meanies, they come with the deal when you dare to be fat on the internet. The fatphobic comments have never really hurt. They worried me at times, when they seemed to get too personal and know details about my life that I would prefer strangers on the internet not know. And I’ve felt really bothered by the impact they have on my platforms when it comes to other people. I don’t want other fat people to be subjected to that hate. I don’t want my positive space to become a fatphobic cesspool, reminding fat people why they hide. That part does really bother me.
I realized a couple years ago that there were entire websites dedicated to tearing Corissa and I apart. They hate-watch all of our content. I know this because they reference small details from videos and Instagram stories that one would normally overlook if they weren’t obsessed with us. This is when it dawned on me. They’re searching for ways to hurt us. They’re digging around for vulnerabilities. There will come a day when they find my deadname and use that against me. They will target me. They will out me. They will harm me.
So, I feared this. For a couple of years, even. I bit my nails worrying about the costume of my transness being ripped away, my body parts being revealed by the femininity of my deadname. I felt that what made me truly gender neutral was the fact that I wasn’t quite masculine, but not quite feminine. The questions about what kinds of genitalia I have, became welcome accusations. “How dare you be confusing!” I started loving it. You’ll never know.
The problem is, people have already known those details. They can make their own assumptions anytime they choose, based on any other details about me. It could be my soft voice, my plump lips, my big old tank ass, or the fact that I wear a binder sometimes to flatten my chest. They have been able to deduce my biological sex, any time. And still, the overwhelming majority, on a virtual and personal level, choose to respect me. They choose to respect my gender. You all choose to respect who I am.
So when the deadnaming finally did start rolling in, I was surprised but not by them. I was surprised by my preparedness for it. I was surprised by my strength and integrity. The truth is, I do know who I am and I do have plenty of people who love that fat, nonbinary, trans, “J” in their lives. My fears were rooted in the transphobic belief that trans people must submit to archaic white supremacist binary boxes to be valid. Somewhere deep down I felt that being nonbinary meant being an AFAB person, with a gender neutral name, a flat chest, and short haircut. I was checking off boxes that literally suppressed me. I was putting myself in boxes just like the assigned gender roles and presentation guidelines given to us by The Man.
I’m no longer tied to that narrative. I’m no longer weighed down by that density. I am J, a fat nonbinary trans person. And a J by any other name still smells as sweet. How freeing. I’m thankful for the opportunity to work through this and come to understand myself even deeper. As the trolls chime in, my love and compassion for myself grows exponentially.

Spoiler: 2021

Spoiler: WLS

Content warning: This post is about anti-fat medical bias and mentions weight loss surgery and risks, fatphobia, gossypiboma/textiloma/RFO, and there is a brief description of wound care.
When I was 17, I had my first surgery. It was to remove a cyst on my lower spine. Okay fine, it was my ass. I had an internal cyst that needed to be removed as it posed a threat to my tailbone and spine. Still vulnerable and catering to internalized anti-fat bias, I asked a doctor I trusted before surgery if this happened to me because I was fat. The doctor assured me that these kinds of cysts actually happen to a lot of young people, of all sizes. “We don’t hear much about them because it’s embarrassing for young people to talk about,” she said. I breathed easier knowing that this cyst and the fast approaching surgery was due to no fault of my own. It just happens. I felt a sigh of relief and anticipated nothing short of compassionate care going forward.
The surgery itself went fine, but what would I know, I was asleep for it. The recovery on the other hand was a nightmare. The healing process required another set of hands, so my mom became my personal care attendant for the following months. She took the cleaning and packing instructions very seriously. She used to be a nurse’s aide back in the day. But a week post surgery I ended up having a pretty gnarly infection that landed me in emergency care. They found some gauze packed deep enough that anyone doing post-op care couldn’t have known. They actually left gauze in me that they were supposed to remove before I left my initial surgery. I was lucky that the infection didn’t progress into a worse state. They removed the packing after loading me up with dilaudid. I didn’t feel a thing, which was great! But I do now have a fear of having objects left inside me during surgery.
Due to the infection, my recovery time was delayed and I had multiple follow up appointments. For the most part, people treated me with grace and dignity, knowing that the check up always involved such a vulnerable area. It was only at my last follow up appointment when I was faced with that moment; the inevitable anti-fat medical bias moment. The doctor reported that my wound was in much better condition, and I was free. As I shook his hand and made my way to the door, he stopped me. He pointed to a graphic on the wall detailing gastric bypass surgery. “Have you ever considered weight loss surgery? You’d be the perfect candidate. Truly, it would be so good for you, and not everyone qualifies. Let me send you home with some information.”
Unfortunately at the time, it was 2009 and I didn’t have someone like Aidy Bryant aka Annie in Shrill to model an appropriate, confident, and liberated response. I was 17 and had been a fat kid my whole life. I wasn’t new to anti-fat trauma, but I was new to advocacy. I didn’t know what to say, or how to respond. I thought, “the cyst wasn’t even related to my weight, though.” I sunk into myself and said “No I hadn’t…(considered it).” I took the pamphlets home with me and did just that. I considered it. I read every terrifying detail. I couldn’t help but feel like every positive outcome sounded like a lie. As if they couldn't be obtained without surgery and severely altering my body, first. The consequences sounded like living in a body that was in much worse condition than the body I was currently in. I felt uneasy about it, so much so that I couldn’t move forward with it. I’m so thankful for that. But it took me nearly 10 years to find words for why I felt so uneasy about this interaction in the first place.
At the time, I felt all kinds of complicated emotions. I felt shame, mostly. I felt ashamed for trusting my previous doctor, who assured me that the cyst was unrelated to weight. I felt embarrassed, like I’d been blissfully unaware of what everyone was truly thinking of me throughout the process. I remember too, feeling disturbed about the tone of the doctor that day. He framed the question in a way that made me actually feel...special? He sounded like he was saying I would have the privilege of accessing this procedure. Me, having privilege because of my body? That was something I hadn’t heard before. And that’s what makes me feel the most uneasy about this.
It turns out, this magical surgery he was trying to sell, isn’t so magical at all. The side effects and risks of pursuing such a drastic surgery would be life-altering and lifelong. The benefits didn’t outweigh the cons for me back then, and I’ve since questioned where he got the idea that they would. He was promising a 17 year old of a more fulfilling life. What kinds of assumptions had he made about my quality of life at the time? And with the list of risks and side effects associated with weight loss surgery, what qualifies as a “more fulfilling life?” Who defines quality of life? Acid reflux, chronic nausea and vomiting, leakage, hernias, gallstones, malnutrition, perforated stomach and intestines, dumping syndrome, ulcers, blood clots, and weight gain or inability to lose weight are all risks and side effects of weight loss surgery. But hey, as long as my body is smaller, right?
As a body liberationist in training I feel revolted by this whole interaction between the doctor and me at 17. And I feel deeply saddened for the teenager I was, just trying to make it out of this experience in one piece. My heart sinks when I think about even taking the paperwork home and reading up on it. But looking back, I realize this moment was a turning point for me when accessing medical care. I learned through processing the experience that I couldn’t trust doctors to treat me holistically. They will always see me as a fat person with “an obesity problem.” Some doctors will see that as a challenge to overcome, others will dismiss me as not worth their time. It will always be about my weight. Whether I came in about a weight related health concern or not. Their spaces are not safe. I will be more guarded. I will be more prepared.
I find it both insidious and manipulative the way the medical industry so easily utilizes a guise of authority to push anti-fat procedures on vulnerable people. In some cases, these authorities push children into pursuing a surgery that would essentially amputate a properly working organ. For what? How often do doctors suggest this life-altering surgery to people who didn’t ask? This doctor saw a fat kid, healthy and ready to get back to life, and treated it as an opportunity. And that makes me absolutely sick.
I mentioned Aidy Bryant and Shrill earlier because the show is what led me to share this story. The final season included a scene where the main character, who is fat, goes to a routine medical appointment and has nearly the exact interaction that I had with my doctor over 10 years ago. The doctor presumed that the main character was unhappy with her weight and presented weight loss surgery as an option. She offered this suggestion completely out of context, without expressed desire from the patient to pursue anything related to weight loss. I shared this story because the examples in Shrill detailing the fat persons experience are anything but exaggerated. These are not hyperbolic examples. They are right on point and they happen every day. Every freaking day. To every single one of us fatties.
I’m thankful to Aidy Bryant, Lindy West, and everyone involved in this show for putting together something so unique that the world can see. I’ve never seen my everyday struggles as a fat person so accurately represented. I just want more. I need more. The more we talk about anti-fat bias, share the impact, and demand better of the people mistreating us, the closer we are to structural and societal change. Fat people deserve access to healthcare free of anti-fat bias and shame. We deserve to trust that our healthcare providers see us as human beings.

Spoiler: Top Surgery

Gender Euphoria: When Anti-Fat Medical Bias Makes Top Surgery Inaccessible

The warm weather is finally rolling around again after what felt like the longest winter of my life. I’m sure it felt that way for everyone, given the global pandemic and collective loneliness we’ve endured over the last year. The sunshine allows us to feel warmth in our souls, even when the world is falling apart - if just for an afternoon. But with all of the unbundling from layers of insulation comes a familiar yet unwelcome feeling for some trans folks; gender dysphoria.

What the hell do I wear?​

Summertime means it’s time to jump back into the constant struggle of what to wear, especially as a fat trans person. What feels most comfortable in the heat doesn’t always affirm my gender presentation. And the options that feel closest to euphoria leave little room for summer activities like hiking, swimming, and sweating, without panic. Let’s be honest here, dysphoria is all about my chest for me. What’s going to feel most comfortable when managing these big tiddies out at the lake all day? Do I wear a binder? A bra? A tank top? Would a flatter looking chest lead to less misgendering? Would I feel more present when not hyper focused on my chest size; the way my tatas look in a shirt, how they draw attention, how they feel against my sweaty belly? What is it that is making my chest feel so unmanageable and so uncomfortable to me in the first place? Is my gender dysphoria even mine? Have I been taught to feel this way for not adhering to binary gender characteristics?

I know it’s typically a big no-no to question gender dysphoria. And that is for damn good reason. Our society has been and continues to target the trans community, treating us like freaks or worse - subhuman, undeserving of civil human rights comparable to that of our peers. Of course we feel defensive of gender dysphoria and its validity. We’ve had to fight for our struggle be respected so that we can access proper medical care and have rights. And we’re barely there. In most states in the US, you still have to provide documentation from a mental health professional that you are experiencing true gender dysphoria in order to qualify for gender-affirming surgery. But my experience with gender dysphoria is different as a superfat person in this dehumanizing space. The same rules don’t apply to me in my fat body. We don't talk much about this experience. And I think it’s important to ask this question: how do you achieve gender euphoria when medical transition is not a realistic option?

Gender affirming care and BMI​

Trans people are essentially vetted before we're able to get gender affirmative care. We have to prove that our gender dysphoria is real. We have to prove that medical intervention is detrimental to our wellbeing. Further, we have to show that we've been living as our “true gender” in public for at least a year prior. We talk about these criteria openly in trans spaces. Oftentimes our spaces include helpful resources of therapists who will make the process as easy as possible for trans folks. What we rarely talk about is the BMI criteria for surgery.

Perhaps it’s because there haven’t been enough fat people pursuing gender affirming surgery for this to be widely disseminated information. Maybe it's because BMI was created by a mathematician to come up with a quick way to determine obesity, and actually is not an accurate representation of health or fitness. But my inclination is that this BMI cutoff exists because medical professionals are ultimately, incompetent. Doctors aren't trained to practice on fat bodies, they are trained to practice on fat bodies. Fat people are considered too much of a risk to treat and then our fat bodies are blamed for that incompetence.

“BMI (body mass index), which is based on the height and weight of a person, is an inaccurate measure of body fat content and does not take into account muscle mass, bone density, overall body composition, and racial and sex differences, say researchers from the Perelman School of Medicine, University of Pennsylvania.”

Why BMI is inaccurate and misleading, Medical News Today

Unfortunately, the BMI categorizes anyone over 30 as obese. This is the threshold for which surgeons base their qualifying criteria on. Are you obese, or not obese? One answer will give you access to life-saving surgery. The other will negate your eligibility. But, if there are notable sources pointing out the flaws and inaccuracies of BMI metrics, how are we defining health, then? What makes someone fit for surgery? It makes me wonder if the issue is about an individuals’ health and readiness to handle a risky surgery. Perhaps it has more to do with liability and lack of research on fat bodies, rendering the medical industry incompetent of treating nearly a third of the US. They know they’re incompetent, which is why all care comes to a screeching halt at a BMI of 31.

Sometimes folks do talk about the BMI requirement in virtual trans support spaces. Trans folks boast of finally finding a surgeon who did not act as a gatekeeper to their medical care and for a moment, I feel hope. The issue here however, is that the most progressive of surgeons will make exceptions for the BMI requirement, allowing folks up to a BMI of 35 and 36 to access care.

This is wildly discouraging for someone like myself, with a BMI of over 90. What are my chances of finding a doctor who's willing to go so far for me? How can I know they'll be capable of a safe procedure when they’ve never been trained to treat a body like mine?

Preparing for surgery at what cost?​

In my position, if I were determined to get top surgery, I would need to make compromises on my other values, first. Surgeons would require me to lose a significant amount of weight before approving my surgery, just like they require for major weight loss surgery. The means of which fat people are pushed to achieve extreme weight loss is alarming. The protocol for fat people pursuing weight loss surgery is to have them lose as much weight as possible before they can even get on the table for surgery. This process includes extreme dieting, starvation, malnutrition, and forceful exercise. These steps are required. This leaves the patients’ overall health in complete disrepair. But hey, at least at the end they’ll be skinny.

As someone who is deeply committed to untangling anti-fat narratives and internalized fatphobia, I’m not willing to pursue intentional weight loss. I’m also someone learning how to recover from an eating disorder and repairing my relationship with food. To be told that I’d need to lose hundreds of pounds before they’d consider my request for top surgery would mean leaning rapidly into my eating disorder and further damaging my body and mental health. Anti-diet work has brought me such peace around food and weight. I’m simply not willing to compromise on my commitment to body liberation and unpacking anti-fatness.

Where do people like me go from here?​

Top surgery will probably never be accessible to me. And I may never see a world where superfats can safely access gender affirming surgery. I’m in the process of making peace with that and I’m not going to lie, it’s devastating. And complicated. Do I know that I would feel more comfortable in my skin with a flat chest? Yes. Would the world see me as more androgynous and perhaps pause more often than not when determining what pronouns to use for me? Might more folks choose to speak of me neutrally based on my mix of attributes? Maybe. Would I enjoy how my shirts feel, would I feel inner peace, would I be closer to gender euphoria? Yeah, I sure would. But how long do I chase gender euphoria through oppressive systems before I have to decide to try something else?

So, I’m working on radical acceptance. Radically accepting my fat body and radically accepting my trans body, as it is. This is radical because I have triple D chesticles. I refuse to wear bras for support, as that heightens my dysphoria. There’s really no way to hide these bad boys and I’m sick of trying. I have never been one to believe that in order to truly be trans you have to transition at all - never mind having to fit into a binary definition of what a certain gender looks like. I have feminine nonbinary friends who love their chests and use neutral pronouns. They are valid and truly nonbinary. I have transfeminine friends, assigned male at birth, who will never get bottom surgery. They are still valid and truly trans.

And let us not forget that systemic white supremacy is at the root of fatphobia, BMI, and even binary sex and gender definitions. Who wants to adhere to white supremacist values? Not this superfat, transmasculine, nonbinary, leftist-in-training babe! Not anymore.

Okay, so lets change the group of people we're referencing for a second. Instead of saying you have a preference for thin people, let's change it to having a preference for white people. Yikes, right? Clearly racist. Upholding white supremacist ideals.

J, no. People of all races have their racial preferences, not just white people and you're not actually racist and supremacist unless you believe in superior and inferior races. Also comparing race preferences and weight preferences in dating like they're related is kind of racist. Preferring people of a regular BMI is a normal human instinct inherent to our will to survive, for people of all races with extremely few exceptions for particular cultures. Racial preferences are a lot more cultural and/or personal.

Radically accepting my fat body and radically accepting my trans body, as it is. This is radical because I have triple D chesticles. I refuse to wear bras for support, as that heightens my dysphoria. There’s really no way to hide these bad boys and I’m sick of trying.

I can't see a trans man with real dysphoria calling them chesticles.

And let us not forget that systemic white supremacy is at the root of fatphobia, BMI, and even binary sex and gender definitions.

I can't help thinking of a pol tard saying people were too retarded to know what biological sex was before white people came and taught them and black people are naturally obese.

Who wants to adhere to white supremacist values?

Not this superfat, transmasculine, nonbinary, leftist-in-training babe!

She's a terrible leftist. So terrible she would be improved by trying to learn from breadtube. She needs to traumatize herself with vegan propaganda until she feels too sick to eat. These huge fatties sometimes mention when they "didn't eat" aka didn't binge or held themselves off from it as trauma.

Spoiler: J writes several paragraphs about falling and not being able to get up. COMFY FAT EVERYONE!

We don’t just feel unworthy of help from the fire department, or mobility devices. We feel undeserving of your time. We feel undeserving of resources in these moments. And sometimes, we feel unworthy of life.
Comments flooded in with support and validation. As I read through the 79, 80, 90 comments of love and advice, I’m in awe. I feel equal parts devastated and inspired. What a resource we are, fat people, to one another. The amount of vulnerability, thoughtfulness, and care that our community offers so freely inspires me. Yet the desperate whispers reaching for guidance among my people continues to wreck me. When will the world allow fat people’s experiences to be ordinary and shameless?
I recognize that my gut wrenching response to this post has a lot to do with my own fears around falling. Getting my superfat body up from the floor is difficult for me, though not impossible. I practice a few times a week to try not to lose my familiarity with it. I use furniture to assist and remain vigilant with every move. Let’s be intentional here. Gotta be thoughtful. Deep breaths. How can I get through this without injuring my back?
As my body changes, I find myself having a harder and harder time with movement and to be transparent, it does scare me. I’m fearful of having more limited mobility than I do currently. I’m fearful of adding more challenges to my life.

In some cases, these authorities push children into pursuing a surgery that would essentially amputate a properly working organ.

Does anyone know if she supports child transitioning? This quote is about weight loss surgery but it would be ironic if she felt that way about weight loss surgery while supporting child transition.

Spoiler: J tacitly admits she's not trans.

I know it’s typically a big no-no to question gender dysphoria. And that is for damn good reason. Our society has been and continues to target the trans community, treating us like freaks or worse - subhuman, undeserving of civil human rights comparable to that of our peers. Of course we feel defensive of gender dysphoria and its validity. We’ve had to fight for our struggle be respected so that we can access proper medical care and have rights. And we’re barely there. In most states in the US, you still have to provide documentation from a mental health professional that you are experiencing true gender dysphoria in order to qualify for gender-affirming surgery. But my experience with gender dysphoria is different as a superfat person in this dehumanizing space. The same rules don’t apply to me in my fat body. We don't talk much about this experience. And I think it’s important to ask this question: how do you achieve gender euphoria when medical transition is not a realistic option?

Is she transtrendering here; denying dysphoria as inherent to being trans?

 

[The Emperor Skeksis]

*Cyst horror*

So, yes. Skinny people can totally get pilonidal cysts, too! Except they usually don't.

From all the things you learned in sickbay this is the most disgusting by far. Thanks for helping me fast today.

asscrackal area

 

[GenociderSyo]

 

[thejackal]

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Tonjes' original video:

Wait for the absolutely stupefying "rap verse" about 2/3 of the way through.

 

[FuckDuckSeagull]

How she can move even that much is freaking jaw dropping. (Gorl could do her little dances 3 times a day on a 2500 cal diet and she would shed weight like crazy)

 

[Billy Fackin Kimber]

Absolutely humungous. Where does she fit in our deathfat scale? I guess Tammy is up top as the alpha mass, but J must be second? She's 9/10 Tammys. I guess Corissa is at a 7, Big al is probably at an 8 and Clotso is an 8 as well. Dunno.

 

[Constellationzero]

How she can move even that much is freaking jaw droping. (Gorl could do her little dances 3 times a day on a 2500 cal diet and she would shed weight like crazy)

Because Weebles Wobble but they don't fall down!

 

[Crepidodera fulvicornis]

Absolutely humungous. Where does she fit in our deathfat scale? I guess Tammy is up top as the alpha mass, but J must be second? She's 9/10 Tammys. I guess Corissa is at a 7, Big al is probably at an 8 and Clotso is an 8 as well. Dunno.

In pure mass I reckon Jen is the top one; then Tammmy; not sure but my guess is Anna bigger than J, because Anna is a unit, and J is a beachball.