It was only recently that I started to venture into the flaming hot world of Tinder. I actually had tried it once before with no luck, and after being asked to be the mother of some poor soul’s future children I deleted the app.
Needless to say, I thought I would never swim back into the shallowness of the Tinder world, but boredom and my suppressed feelings of wanting someone special to laugh at my jokes, and share my hot sauce obsession, could no longer be ignored!
So I convinced myself that this time would be different. And, it actually was. Now don’t get me wrong, I still ran into your regular ol’ run of the mill foot fetish fiend, and guys who didn’t know which way was up.
But, I also met some pretty cool fellas who introduced me to the world of bubble tea, and of course let out a chuckle or two at my jokes. I mean, I was feeling like the queen of Tinderdom, all hail, all hail!
Then… on one fateful day… I got super liked!
Who, me??? I’d like to thank my mother for these hips, and my father for this beautiful skin because boy, this was a rare phenomenon. So, I proceeded to respond to this gentleman’s superlike, and his message that read, “Hi, you are so sexy to me!”
And, I’ll be honest, he was not my type at all. However, I thought anyone who superliked me deserved at least a response. You never know, and I’m not one to judge just based off looks alone, however something about this guy’s grin definitely gave me creepy cheshire cat vibes.
The conversation started off innocent enough. We did the introduction thing and even made plans to meet, because we were both looking for “friends.”
Little did I know we had two very different definitions of friendship. Disclaimer: When I say friends I mean platonic — ain’t no kissing, teasing, or sexual touching. We’re friends. And the only benefits you get is my presence, and sarcasm. You’re welcome.
Apparently though, I was misinformed, because this guy was adamant on the fact that he kisses his friends, and told me he wanted to engage in some french kissing with yours truly. I thought to myself, “perhaps, he’s joking,” but it became extremely clear he was as serious as a two for one special at a doughnut shop.
Honestly, I attempted to let him down easy, but he started begging. Unmatch. Delete. I’m not about to play these Tinder games. I’m not tender, nor am I a toy maker.
Later that night, as I was drifting off to sleep, I hear an unpleasant “bing!” A notification that someone had slid into my Instagram DMs. Imagine my shock when I realized it was my tinder superlike with some choice words for your girl.
And it read, “Fucking, ugly, fat, dark lady.”
Full disclosure, I am a 5’3, dark brown skinned, BBW… with no shame. I have thick thighs, don’t discriminate against pies, cookies, or cakes. And a midsection that’ll put a whole pack of sweet hawaiian rolls to shame.
So, me in all my fat girl glory decided to leave the young man some parting words, because he clearly had been victimized. Shamelessly, I wrote “Soooo, you’re mad because you thought that the fat girl on Tinder was going to give your desperate skinny ass some pussy? LOL.”
Then, delete, block. I mean, I could have said more, but I had better things to do like admire my fat ass in the mirror. I actually wished I would have thanked the gentleman for testing my resilience, and strength to withstand such verbal harassment.
All those insults just kind of bounced right off of me. I guess that’s because I’m so plushy. Guess all those years of fat shaming made me a brick house. Boom! “Mighty, mighty just lettin’ it ALL hang out!”
Inquiring minds want to know what about being fat screams I’m looking for someone to drown my insecurities in? Better yet, what about fat screams insecure?
By the way, I’ve really never thought of myself as fat. I prefer the phrase, “swollen with swag.”
Hence, this is a PSA to all my fellow big, beautiful women, my skinny sisters, my cisgendered, queer, trans women, and all the ladies in between:
When the creep on Tinder, calls you fat, and/or ugly, have the audacity to be both. Revel in it. And know that love has no bounds, that it transcends weight, and idealistic, misogynoir standards of beauty.
Tell him to love himself, and to not search for his worth in the depth of any woman’s vagina. Go like all your pictures on Instagram, let the whole world know you’re not seeking validation.
Make a list of all the things you love about yourself, then make a grocery list of all the things you love to eat. Never apologize for being unapologetic.
Picture yourself as a poem, in a world made entirely out of unfinished novels. You are no novelty. Never fall for anyone who can’t appreciate the way your stretch marks swim across your womanly curves. Oh, and finally, most importantly, take nobody’s shit.