I Call Bull

December 31, 2009

by Kristin D. 29. December 2009 14:34

Swistle is a well-known and well-liked blogger: a Mom and a delightful writer with a quick sense of humor, who recently decided to “come out” as an overweight woman.  Previously reluctant to post pictures of herself on her website, she spun together some eloquent, heart-pulling words about self-doubt, steriotypes, and being overweight.

I came across the entry via a series of tweets about fighting on the Internet (cause, God, I love a break from my own gong show to peer at another one) , and read the referenced post and subsequent comments with my heart in my throat.  At the end of the 190+ comments, I finally exhaled.  The very sincere post turned into a bit of an angry clawing session, with the comments shifting almost immediately from Swistle’s well-written confessional post to the fitness path of  well known blogger and (and personal inspiration and friend to me) Sundry, of Sundry Mourning.

It morphed and grew warts from there: some commenters on the thread mourned that fitness writing is boring and self-centred, other women complained that thin women do not understand that fat is not a choice.  One overexcited commenter told another to “put down the pie plate” and the whole thing got pretty nasty.

This is not the first time I’ve seen this on the Internet: months ago I wrote a column over at Bodies in Motivation and got slammed by dozens of women for daring to call myself “fatskinny” (since I am thin and do not know what it’s like to be fat, etc.)  I received dozens of emails from women who said the same thing: fat can be in the genes and I should be sensitive to this.  Obviously: I was lucky.  I was born with skinny genes.

I call bullshit. 



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