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I’ve always been the fat friend my whole life. I was bullied in school for my appearance (among other things), I’ve had insults shouted at me from cars and other strangers on the street, I’ve had people point and laugh at me in the gym, I’ve witnessed blatant medical fatphobia and various other things that make it really difficult to exist in the world as a fat person.
I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder and severe depression at 20, and various poor coping mechanisms and medications have caused me to gain weight and struggle to lose it. I hated what I looked like for so long, and suffered some body dysmorphia. Every time I looked in the mirror it showed something different. Sometimes I couldn’t leave the house because I was so paralysed with hatred at what I saw.
I try to embrace body neutrality rather than positivity. My body is here and it’s the only one I get. I’m in my mid 30s and not getting any younger. I’m also the happiest I’ve ever been in my life, and my physical appearance doesn’t take as high importance as it did when I was younger.
Looking at these is still uncomfortable. Part of making my relationship with my body easier involves not keeping full length mirrors in my flat so I don’t constantly look at myself and criticise my appearance. In this I have things the world sees as negative – rolls, unshaved legs and pits, hundreds of self harm scars. I don’t love looking at it.
But then I look a bit more, and I see a body that has survived all its worst days. A body that is strong. One I’ve shown love by decorating with tattoos and piercings. That carries me through every day. I see the look of joy on my face at being naked in broad daylight in public, and I can’t help but feel warmth towards my body and the journey it’s taken me on.
May 2024
Katie came back to have some more photos taken in my cellar.
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Phil Pool - Art and Protest 