Have you ever used a euphemism for fatness to describe your body? You’re not alone. I came up with this list a few days ago, thinking of all the terms that I’ve heard used to describe a large body:
Chubby.
Chunky.
Thick.
Plus-sized.
Pooh-sized.
Big.
Hefty.
Husky.
Large.
Big-boned.
Heavy.
Fluffy.
More to love.
And my kids have added a new one recently: Big back. I’m not sure if this is actually a good synonym for fat or if it simply refers to someone with a big appetite (my four kids can’t agree amongst themselves). But it’s out there in the world, being used to describe people.
We know that fat has been used as an epithet, to harm and belittle (pun intended) those in larger bodies. But in the fat liberation movement, we reclaim this word as a neutral descriptor. Fat. I’m fat. You’re fat. We’re fat. Hooray!
Not everybody feels “hooray” about using the word “fat.” The trauma with the word runs deep, and I get it.
My own journey to using fat as a self-descriptor is interesting. I started by calling myself a size-dignity activist; even though I thought of myself as fat, I couldn’t bring myself to use the word. Fat just felt so alienating. But that’s the power of reclaiming it, right? Turning the expectations of the world on their heads?
My friend-turned-podcast-cohost J. Nicole Morgan—whom I had met via Twitter—was so patient with me as I played around with the words and meanings of what it meant to live in a larger body. We ended up starting the Fat & Faithful podcast, which was around for about 3 seasons and which you can still listen to wherever you get your podcasts or at fatandfaithful.com. She gave me such a beautiful example of what it meant to be fat, and to intentionally take up space. Her book, Fat and Faithful: Learning to Love Our Bodies, Our Neighbors, and Ourselves, is available wherever books are sold. (That’s a link to the publisher’s website. I’m trying to avoid Amazon as much as possible these days…)
I eventually started calling myself a fat acceptance activist. It was intimidating to use the label but in so many ways it felt good. For years, my Instagram handle was @your_body_is_good, but about a month ago, I changed it to something more declarative: @thefatdispatch. I have finally arrived at an unabashed label as a fat liberationist. No more beating around the bush. I claim fat and all it comes with.
Maybe you’re wondering—what do I call other people in larger bodies? Well, typically, I follow their lead. If they use “plus-size” or “larger,” that’s what I’ll go with. I never assume that someone embraces a fat identity in a positive way unless they explicitly say so. That’s part of fat liberation, right—the right to self-determination, about everything from taking up space to calling oneself what one wants.
I do encourage people to embrace a fat identity if they feel they can, though, because part of redefining the term as a neutral descriptor takes away its power as an epithet. When someone calls you fat—and you embrace that—your response is, “And?” Or as Marilyn Wann wrote years ago, “Fat! So?”
Euphemisms are valuable in that they allow us to talk about the state of someone’s body without judging it. But I’m here for eschewing the euphemisms in favor of directness and liberation. I long for the day when our culture sees that fat is a nonjudgmental way to talk about bodies.
What do you call your own body? I’m always curious about what people refer to themselves as (or other people) when they are trying to be kind and curious about bodies.
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—AMB
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I prefer to describe myself as "fat", but sometimes saying that starts conversations I don't have the energy for -- so I'll also use "higher-weight" or "big" depending on the audience.
Karen Sandstrom, a writer and artist, calls her Substack "Thick through the Middle" and I have "stolen" that to describe myself. I hope she doesn't mind, but it feels perfect for what has happened to my body during the aging process.