Skip to content

Unintended Consequences

October 18, 2012

When I was fat, I always knew where my wallet was – my pants were virtually a second set of skin.  When I was fat, people assumed I was once incredibly strong, or that my fat was more or less muscle and that I was incredibly strong.

Sadly, I do care more about the way I look.  I end up actually spending money and time on tending the peacock – electric nose hair clippers were bought, haircuts are more frequent, and instead of buying 3 identical clothing items that “work”, I feel free to try 3 different ones to see how they look on me.

Not only did my waist size reduce, but because my girth and butt no longer created shelves that pulled my pants up, my inseam actually shrank as well (31” to 30”).   Since I was fat from the bottom up (literally) before de-massing, I was often taller when seated than someone who was taller than me when standing. Every aspect of going potty was easier.  Every aspect.

Dropping mass did not turn me into stud.  But, occasionally, a female will actually seem to know that I am a male, rather than a genderless sack of fat.  Ironically enough, the less blobby mass that surrounds your manhood, the larger your manhood seems in relationship to the remaining blobby mass.  I snore less.  Why one lousy inch of flab over your epiglottis turned me into a sea walrus is not readily evident to me. . .  It also helped my gender identity when I went from a “B” cup to an “A” cup for my Manssiere.

It was oddly reassuring to know that I actually still had a collarbone.  Losing mass means I sweat less, and whether due to physical activity or stress.  My skin is also a little less volatile/sensitive (and I’m not talking about the chafing of my inner thighs – that’s easy to explain.)  I don’t wish for a can of Crisco whenever I got into (or out of) a kayak.  My mountain bike seat did not go where the sun don’t shine.

I also discovered that when you’ve stopped being fat, you make some people feel uncomfortable and other people feel giddy.  There were those who literally treated my reduction in mass as if it was a salvation experience.  For them.

For others, as long as I was dumped out then my life had an asterisk beside it (*not really together/cool/happy). To some the presumed relative level of misery of others around them is a gauge of their happiness.

It surprised me that so many people cared that I was growing smaller.  Even though I lost bulk, I have kept my personality, my attitude, and my disdain for people who judged me by the way I looked.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: