I was called fat today.
That I had gained weight all over.
I was also told that I was ‘lucky’ to live where I’m living – said in a way that implied, I should not have nice things because I’m disabled.
Simultaneously, I was used as inspiration porn for encouraging this healthcare worker to come and do her job today because I was not going to make myself available for her on Saturday. ‘Thanks for encouraging me to come, I was about to give up and come on Saturday… you’d be home anyway.’
Where should I begin?
The condescension? The ableism? The inspiration porn? The fat/body shaming? The fact that this was coming from a medical professional? That my time is not valuable?
Or should I start with how this 15 min interaction poked at things I’ve been struggling with and kinda felt good about today? Like how my body looks good and feels strong today, how my little place is starting to feel like home? How there is a sense of finding a stride?
No, none of these? We’re just gonna plow through my fragile sense of self and belonging in the world?
I tried to convince myself not to call and place a complaint.
I tried to tell myself that it wasn’t that big of a deal and that she was just a jerk and to pay it no mind.
I tried to tell myself that this could just be motivation to lose more weight anyway.
I tried to see the good part to that interaction.
I tried to kick the can down the road and say. ‘ Next time, I’ll call it in.’
I tried to convince myself it wasn’t as bad as I think…
I picked up my phone, took a deep breath and dialed the agency.
I spoke to the coordinator and lodged my complaint.
My voice cracked when I got to the part about my weight. I kept speaking anyway and didn’t let the tears fall.
I don’t feel great or strong. I feel fragile and hurt.
But I know Future Me will be proud of Now Me for the protection.
Thank you #Village for your comments on my original post. Seeing Me through your eyes gave me courage to make that call today.
One battle at a time.