Love Loving More to Love

I'm not what you would call the most...petite...woman to have ever graced the world with her presence. So when I saw the previews for More to Love on Fox, basically another in the long line of Bachelor-type shows but featuring contestants that have what some might consider "bonus material," I was not only skeptical that the show would turn out to be a season long exploitation of fatties throwing their weight around in a manic effort to find the one thing they believe their own bodies will never allow them to have, but I was also wickedly curious.

The show definitely didn't disappoint, and after the first episode I am shocked by the surprisingly kind and honest way that Fox handled the portrayal of these women of no insignificant stature. Did they seem a little pathetic and weepy? Yes, of course. It is "reality" television after all, there has to be some kind of drama, but gosh darn it, they have a right to seem pathetic! Their tears were so meaningful and produced from years of an inner dialogue that repeats over and over that they aren't good enough, they are too fat, no one will love them this way, they are disgusting and they must change. Even the most strong willed, self confident, physically perfect woman on occasion questions her looks, wonders if life would be different if she was a little taller, her eyes a little brighter, her nose a little straighter or her boobs less lopsided...

Ok, lets be real here. That last one shouldn't really count. Don't we all wish our boobs were a little less lopsided?

Anyway, my point was, before I got distracted by boobs (hmmm...is this what it's like to be a guy?), that the women in the show, and countless others like them, have an ongoing, daily reminder of their defect. It's in the way they walk, the type of clothes they wear, the activities they continue to make excuses to avoid, the wondering who will be thinking nasty thoughts about them if they buy an ice cream cone, or a salad, or nothing at all. Average framed people can't possibly understand just how deep the fat goes. It gets in every part of your life. You begin to truly believe that no one can look past it, not because it is true, but because you yourself can't look past it. It's all you see. You can't forget it. You can't have a relationship or a conversation or even a passing glance with a stranger on the street without knowing deep down that they see a fat person, first and foremost. You tell yourself this, again, not because it is the reality, but because it is your reality.

The vulnerability of this show was staggering. Women, myself included, have gone to such great lengths to deny to the world that they see themselves as fat, or more realistically, that all they see in themselves is fat. We typically don't address it. I remember I used to not even like to say the word fat in any type of context, because I was sure if I did, whoever I was talking to would immediately apply the adjective to me. I read a comment from some TV critic after the first episode aired that mentioned that one of the contestants, I can't remember her name, confessed that she had never been on a date because she was always afraid she was being asked out only as a joke. Like someone was having a laugh at the fat girl's expense, to see if she would really believe that someone would actually want her. The critic seemed aghast, like this line of thinking was borderline delusional. But it was so real. I know I've always thought like that. It made me wonder how many men I have accidentally turned away in an attempt to save myself from a phantom humiliation. Before I met boyfriend, and alas, sadly even after I met him, I would pawn off every guy who showed me even the slightest bit of interest onto my girlfriends. I didn't want them to think that I was so stupid as to believe they might be into me. In bars if a guy came up to talk to me, I assume it was just to get to my friends, so I automatically get into matchmaker mode. It even took me months to fully convince myself that boyfriend actually liked me, and wasn't just using me for a while until he could find a better model. I literally asked him, point blank and completely unprompted, if he actually liked me or if he wanted me to set him up with someone else. On our third date. Right after he kissed me for the first time. After he had called me every day since we met. After he took off work early two days after our first date to surprise me at work because he couldn't wait to see me again. After we had been emailing every 15 minutes for the last two weeks because we had so much to say to each other. After all that, I still couldn't and didn't really believe that an average sized guy could ever really want me. But he did! And he does! Yay!

I say all of this not to garner any sympathy or fish for compliments or get slapped on the face with a floppy dead herring (I couldn't think of a third reason why I would be not saying this, but it just sounds better to have three options), but rather to just commend these brave women who are giving a voice to the fears and insecurities and realities that so many other people face. Being fat is still so taboo, and most fat people are still so scared to really talk about it. Not just make jokes or excuses or vows to lose weight, but to really talk about how the present reality of weight winds its way though every aspect of their lives. I think that watching this show made it so clear that these women will most assuredly find love because they are good, beautiful people with sparkling personalities, and I think the longer the show airs, the more evident that truth will become to the women themselves, no matter who ends up with the well-built bachelor, and to the rest of the world.

I think we should all take a minute to thank Fox for not letting this show become the big joke that those beautiful women are so afraid they may fall into, should they let themselves believe that they are worth the real thing.