My Facebook friend Julie posted today that someone had called her a fat bitch to her face in public. She said “I think that’s the first time I have been called that to my face… does this qualify me for the Fat Bitches Club?” Yes it does, and your official club jacket is in the mail!
The Fat Bitches Club is for those who’ve been victims of the sizeism and sexism that occur when people lash out at us with a phrase meant to let us know that we don’t look or act like they want us to. If you’re wondering if you qualify for the FBC, check out the qualifying events below, though please note that this is not an exhaustive list.
Just Because
This is how Julie qualified. She was talking to someone about something completely unrelated to her size. He didn’t like what she said, so he called her a fat bitch. He is hoping that she buys into the ideas that her worth is determined by her body size, that having a fat body is bad, and that she shouldn’t want to be a bitch, so that he can hurt her with name calling rather than having an adult discussion about the topic that she broached.
Online Troll
At least once a day I open my e-mail to read my new blog comments and someone has “fat bitched” me. Perhaps they’ve been only so creative as to type “fat bitch!” (or more likely “fat bicth!”) or maybe it’s part of a longer ridiculous rant. Either way, this is how these people spend their spare time and almost every fat person I know who has an online presence has experienced this – whether it’s e-mail, Facebook, YouTube, a blog, instagram etc. This is just blatant sizeism committed by people who are obviously not in a great place in their lives because we refuse to hate ourselves like they want us to.
Drive By
This happens when a fat person has the unmitigated nerve to exist outside their home. This might come from teenagers or, sadly, from grown ass adults – maybe they are walking by, riding a bike, or in a car. Maybe they just yell, maybe they throw eggs at us. either way, you have a chance to earn your Fat Bitches Club jacket just by walking out your door.
Self Selected
Some people choose to adopt the Fat Bitch label proudly. (Of course other people prefer not to claim the labels of fat and/or bitch and that’s fine too.)
This is about how we survive a world where people use our body size as an epithet, where the government is perpetuating a war on us based on our body size. Where people actually scream names at us out of their cars. The world is screwed up, we are fine and celebrating our entry into the Fat Bitch club is one way,out of many options, that some of us choose to show that.we are here, we aren’t ashamed, and we aren’t going anywhere. especially not because some people are still calling us names like it’s the first day of preschool and they don’t have any home training. Screw that. Fat Bitches Club forever!
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Dances With Fat 
Been yelled at by an oik in a passing white van – ‘You’re FA'” (no final ‘t’ because oiks don’t use them)
Had an otherwise dear little old lady tell me in public I eat too many sausage rolls while poking my stomach (complete stranger!!)
Daughter and I both out shopping, another oik-in-van yells out ‘Teletubbies!’ as they drive past.
It’s the apparent outrage expressed by the oiks that amuses/puzzles/annoys me – as if I’ve mortally offended them by failing to be slim!
Or perhaps they’re intensely aware of being at the bottom end of the social standing ladder, and attacking a fat woman just boosts their self-esteem a tiny bit. After all, we’re even lower down the scale than an ignorant, uneducated male.
Women are men’s meat, remember? It’s our job to be things that dudebros want to screw. Fatness is currently considered a thing that only weird men want to screw in conventional wisdom, therefore our existing in public while fat breaks a social contract that we signed by being born female: a promise to enable dudebros to sport half-chubs of awesome dudebroness at all times.
Three memorable times I’ve been Fat Bitched (out of MANY); Walking past a pub on a sunny day, pushing my 3 week old baby. The ‘fat bitch’ bellow was accompanied by a HILARIOUS ‘weebles wobble’ which is pretty retro. The young comedian got more than he bargained for when I put the brakes on the buggy and marched right across to him. “What did you say? I couldn’t quite hear it? If you’d like to just hang on for half an hour you can insult me in front of my kids. Not that you’ll ever have any yourself. You have no balls”. I hope he learned his lesson in not pissing off a hormonal woman. Another incident wasn’t one I could make a pithy comeback to, for my own safety. I was visiting Dublin with a friend and we were making our way back to our accommodation when a large group of men spotted us. “UUUGGGHHH look at that FAT BITCH!” Within seconds we were surrounded by about a dozen men, spitting at me, shoving me and asking ‘what the fuck are YOU doing out?!’. My friend tried to intervene but they shoved her out of the ever decreasing circle surrounding me. I just had to stand there, not making eye contact and take it. I was genuinely afraid to lash out verbally or physically. Lastly I was walking home from school, in full school uniform, when 2 guys (fully grown men) grabbed me, shoved me into a doorway and one of them punched me in the face saying ‘I fucking HATE you, you FAT BITCH’. Then they laughed and let me go. My experiences in real life make coping with name-calling online a piece of cake. Mmm cake…
That is absolutely shocking and (as you know) not acceptable. I’ve never been able to fathom why people are so mortally offended by others not conforming to their ‘norm’
That’s horrible and my heart hurts for you.
May I ask where you’re from (country, I mean, because your word usage seems British or similar)? I’m curious because I was a member of the Everyday Sexism Project FB page when it was active, and from what I read there, it really seemed that people in the UK suffered from much more overt, horrifying sexism than we do here in the US.
Hugs to you. And cake. Lots and lots of cake. 🙂
Hi
I’m in the UK and had plenty of tales for Everyday Sexism! Haters are going to hate no matter where they are, but I am surprised that Great British Haters are seemingly World Champions at it. I’m reaching the age of Female Invisibility so hopefully that will help!
All offers of cake greatly appreciated x
Yikes! (sends cake)
I can’t even come up with words on this one.
(sends more cake)
CAKE SOLIDARITY!
x
I’m horrified on your behalf, nowtnorsummat! You don’t say what happened as the circle continued to shrink around you. I just hope they didn’t get really violent and hurt you.
Someone actually punched you in the face for the “crime” of being fat? I’d say unbelievable, except I really do believe it.
And CAAAAAAKE! I’m faxing it over to you right now. It’s a nice flat cake.
I feel so sorry for the teenagers or the grown ass adults who have nothing better to do or think about then to scream at me that I am fat. Or a fat bitch, which was more recent! Yup, it’s happened. The first time crushed me, that was many years ago when I was young. The last time was about a year ago. I waved and started to dance on the sidewalk. The look on their faces was priceless. Complete confusion.
Leslie, your response is wonderful!
I’ve been called “fat bitch” by many a person….but, the stand-out…my step-father called me that many times! If he was mad at me, I was a fat bitch. Another favorite insult of his, and it’s really quite prolific: “you look like 10 pounds of shit in a 2 pound bag.” How’s that for a kick right to the self-esteem when you’re a kid!
Why did your mother marry this jerk?
Hugs, if you want them!
Thanks Michelle – I accept that hug!
They’ve been married for 40 years now. He’s calmed down a lot since then, but the scars remain. I have never been able to figure out why she married him. She had three kids and it was hell on earth for all of us. The boyfriend before him….even worse! I just don’t understand – abused woman syndrome, I suppose.
I pity the fool that would have laid a hand on my kid…that person would no longer be breathing! Of course, I married a kind man and didn’t have any issues with any of that! So thankful!
Hugs back to you!!!
Lifelong member of the Fat Bitches Club here! The first time I was called a fat bitch, I was too young to properly understand what “bitch” meant. And much, much worse would be forthcoming in the next few years.
Been mooed at while walking down the street, had someone yell ‘are you pregnant or just fucking fat?’ at me from across the street, and yes, I’ve heard groups of girls hold their laughter until I’m properly past and then burst out in guffaws.
Pretty lightweight compared to some stories, and I’m thankful for that. Still, I’d like my jacket in orange satin with purple letters, just for maximum obnoxiousness. And because I look freaking awesome in orange.
So appropriate that this came up yesterday as I put my book I was afraid to publish back out again – How To Be a Fat Bitch!
Oh, can we get a link, please? I want to read it, just from the title.
Reblogged this on thedancermohana and commented:
As usual Ragen is speaking my language! I have been fat bitched online far too many times recently.
I love all you badasses! I, too, have been “Fat Bitch”ed, yelled at from cars, and laughed at. One has to be awesome tough to stand that stuff. I’d like an ice cream cake with writing in the icing: “Fat Bitches kick ass!”
I am beyond thrilled to be a part of the Fat Bitches club, having had a frenemy in high school write that on my locker because I’d had a fight with another friend. I was mortified at the time, but now I’m pretty darn proud!! Fat Bitches Forever!!
Can I be in the Fat Bitch club? I’ve never been dubbed in those exact words, but I did get “No wonder your morbidly obese, you do nothing but sit around eating sweets and crisps”
comment on my blog, just because I blogged about my love for food. I don’t like the word morbidly or obese. I much prefer Fat Bitch. Or even very very very fat. What is all this about morbidity? I am very happily fat. And I would still be fat, even if I stopped eating sweets. So why should I stop eating sweets? Silly. So can I join? I can just be a self proffessed F B. 😉 No problem. Aces.
Sooo… If you’re fat and gothic, can you be morbidly fat? I think that’s about the only time that really works well.
Thinking back, I can’t some up with any specific instance of these particular words, because after some years, all the fat and misogynistic insults just blend together into a raucous background noise.
I’m pretty sure I’m a member of the club, though. If not the exact words, I’ve had enough insults of the same type.
I started getting called Fat Bitch when I was in 3rd grade and started gaining weight, thanks to genetics (despite the fact that I ice skated, roller skated, rode my bike everywhere, played soccer, and had to be dragged inside at night for bed). There was this family of really horrendous boys that lived around the corner from me, so we shared a bus stop for years. The day they moved into the neighbourhood they saw me as a target and immediately began bullying me–shoving me off the bus so I’d fall onto the concrete whilst everyone else laughed, taking my hat and bag and throwing them in the mud, etc. When they got tired of that, they’d scream FAT BITCH at me–on the bus, in the streets, when I was out riding my bike or roller skating, at school, anywhere. They’d even stand outside of my house and shout it up and down the street. They didn’t care if anyone heard them.
How can you fight back as a child? You can’t. Someone has to fight for you. My mother and father tried, but they couldn’t and just told me to ignore it. But I remember that as early as third grade, I learnt to hate myself because I was Wrong for being fat. I was Wrong to exist. I remember telling myself each Fall when school started that I could hang on for one more year, that it would be different this time, that I’d fight back. But I didn’t. And the hits kept coming because bullies like to run in packs.
I think both those boys took a turn in prison. Their buddies certainly did. Looking them up on FB has shown that they are still societal bottom dwellers. Sorry not sorry.
You are telling my story, I was always the fat kid that got bullied, and this from kids I went from kindergarten to high school with! You would think they would have gotten used to me in 12 years. I have to say, I earned my Fat Bitch card in 12th grade. I had just had enough. I started kickin’ ass and takin’ names! Then I was the “crazy fat bitch” That’s fine…they learned the hard way not to f**k with me. How sad….I was such a sweet kid, and look what the world does to you…
Twelfth grade was when I learned that I can bug-out my eyes when I’m baring my teeth at a guy who’s bullying me. I definitely earned the “Bitch” card that day, since I was literally growling and snapping, and baring teeth, and just being dog-like.
The look on his face! Oh, that was so worth it.
Never called ‘fat bitch’, but during my teenage years my mom kept telling me how much thinner she was at my age. Does that get me in the club?
Wow, it’s almost as if she were a different person, or something.
🙂
Can I be in the club if I’m not fat?
I’m also not a lesbian, but I’ve been called a stupid dyke and/or fat bitch often enough that I feel I qualify for the fat bitch, stupid dyke club.
The most common is when I refuse to acquiesce to a man’s demands.
Ex. 1. I’m minding my own business on a social networking site and get an email:
Random dude: “Why don’t you put up a face pic?”
Me: I don’t owe you a face pic, go away!
Random dude: “Whatever, you’re probably an ugly fat cow, anyway lol”
This is about the time I realize “oooh, there’s a nifty “block this user” button”
Ex. 2. I’m on a dating site and a guy with a 54% match 400 miles away messages me “hey beautiful” and asks if I want to talk, because we “have a lot in common”. I ask what he thinks we have in common, because I’m not seeing it from his profile. He tells me I shouldn’t base my opinions on the match percentage and says I should give him a chance. I reiterate that I have no reason to be interested based on the information he’s given me; he responds that I should ask him whatever I want, I reply that I don’t think that’s a good use of my time. He gets huffy; I don’t budge. He tells me to get over myself, I’m not even that good looking anyway and kind of fat. (Oh, well, if you put it that way, I will definitely spend time talking to someone who thinks I’m unattractive and is clearly prepared to abuse me verbally).