Fat Failing
Should I have known better?
I had a fat failing this week. I’m still a little tender about it, but I want to share so that others can learn from my mistake. It’s not exactly a “failing” on my part, but it sure felt like it in the moment.
This is the Majestic Theater in San Antonio and a shot of me getting ready to go see Hamilton on Wednesday evening.
We bought tickets for this show back in January, and my daughters and I had been so pumped to see the show we all have memorized.
Because I can’t stand for long periods of time, I had purchased priority access to the fancy lounge at the theater. This enabled my girls and me to enter the theater early and have a little sit before the show.
(My daughters gave me permission to share these photos of them.)
When it came time to find our seats in the historic theater, we made our way into our seating section.
We were very high up, and when I tried to sit, I realized that the seats were much narrower than I had anticipated.
Now hear me out—I’m a large lady who carries my weight in my belly and hips. But I have never not fit in a seat before because of my size. Sure, I’ve squeezed in and had bruises on my hips and thighs because of restrictive seating.
But the Majestic was the first time I have been completely excluded from an activity I wanted to participate in, because of my size.
Once I realized that I would not be able to sit, I let my daughters know that I was going to sit in the lobby area near our seats and that’s where they could find me. I had to press down the feelings of shame and embarrassment just to get down to a place where I could sit on a bench.
I shared my predicament with the ushers in my area, and they tried to find me a seat. Unfortunately all the ADA accessible seats were sold out and there was nothing they could do for me.
This was my view for the entirety of Hamilton.
I posted to Threads about my predicament, and I got varied feedback, from solidarity to helpful suggestions to attacks on my intelligence and my body.
Many people felt for me and echoed their experiences with similar circumstances. Roxane Gay (!!) commented and shared advice for the next time something like this happened. (I’ll share in a moment.) A lot of people said I was dumb to even be upset, because obviously they thought my body was the problem.
Probably the hardest comment I came across, though, was someone who pointed out that I should have known better because I am a fat activist.
You know what? That’s where most of my shame came from—I have advocated for myself in the past and have even helped others advocate for themselves. But I failed to do so for myself ahead of time and in the moment. There were definitely tears at the embarrassment.
I was too weepy to talk to a manager, and I didn’t want to leave the designated place I told my kids they could find me. It was an awful experience.
Even with all my training and self-advocacy, I was still humiliated.
What do I hope you take away from this post?
It wasn’t my body’s fault for being “too big.” It was the theater’s fault for having small seating and not warning guests about the width of the seating.
There are ways you can advocate for yourself to make your future experiences better.
Even when you expect trouble because of your size, it still hurts like hell to be excluded.
Ways you can advocate for yourself:
Call ahead and ask about seating width.
Reserve ADA accessible seating if available
If you do not fit, ask to speak to the house manager to either receive alternative seating or to receive a refund. (Thanks, Roxane Gay, for this specific info.)
I hope each of you has a wonderful, inclusive day, and that you can learn from my experience!
Peace to you,
Amanda