Dear Fat Hater,
You claim to be worried about my health.
Let's talk about health insurance and the terrible healthcare industry we have in this country.
Let's talk about how fat-phobic doctors abuse and neglect fat patients, misdiagnosing and misinforming us.
You claim to be concerned with my appearance.
Let's talk about how fat people are charged more for our clothes while designers style clothing to hide us, not flatter us.
Let's talk about our lookist society and how the shape of my body affects things like the jobs I can get, how much I'll be paid, and how well I'll be treated.
You claim to fear for my social life.
Let's talk about how years of fat-phobic messaging, including comments from you and people like you, affects my interactions.
Let's talk about rape culture.
You're chock full of warnings and concern, but you're aiming them in the wrong directions. If you genuinely want to help, start with the patriarchy.
But that would be hard work, and you're not really that worried about me, anyway. What you're worried about is yourself. You're concerned that there are fat people around you and that you might have to look at them. You're concerned that there are fat people around you and that you might be associated with them.
Your shitty attitude and the hatred inside you are far uglier than any roll of fat.
With love,
Frank Lee
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