![hairless fat gay men hairless fat gay men](https://www.advocate.com/sites/default/files/2013/02/19/Jackson-Carterx400.jpg)
#HAIRLESS FAT GAY MEN SKIN#
The skin envelops everything that is you, and your being begins and ends with the fibres of your surface. It is the same shell that protects the oyster from hungry predators, or the tortoise from the bite of the feral wolf. Liberation of the body starts by accepting that it is yours. Like green hills over grass covered landscapes my body lies like the rolling waves over rock formations the skin stretches over the being that captures all of the life that made the breath I drew when this word was written. It has become a kink, a fetish, an oddity outside of the default porn categories, because god forbid mortal eyes see skin draped over fatty bones. The fat body has been banished to a dimly lit basement, with leather harnesses, and the smell of musky armpits and leather polish. There is a paradox within acceptance, because should we, in the name of acceptance, accept every possible opinion? Should the opinion of people who say, “No fats, no femmes, no Blacks, no Asians” be accepted for acceptance’s sake? Again, how can we not address the problem that people who stand on the shoulders of freedom fighters reproduce the same structural oppression that was used to oppress them? Every time a gay man says, “no fats, no femmes,” he submits to the rules of the straight man, furthering his own oppression around and within himself.
![hairless fat gay men hairless fat gay men](https://images.nymag.com/nymetro/nightlife/sex/features/grizzly051114_400.jpg)
So, what is inclusion, if we are not including every body walking the same mile down the rainbow road? It hurts people that I, as a fat body, don’t walk with shame, because how dare I like myself when they hate their thin bodies? We need to understand that the experience of Queerness differs with other factors present in the person walking the mile. Whenever I get home, before I even have time to unpack my grocery bags, I need to unpack the daily addition of trauma added to my existence, because, for some reason, it’s triggering for people to see a fat body embracing its femininity and living truthfully. Living in the intersection between femininity and fatness requires a strong survival kit.
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How can we preach acceptance when a body like mine is still stigmatized within our own ranks? And even then, is the fat body then just supposed to be left to rot, so the thin and masculine can assimilate into the structure of the oppressor? In the words of Audre Lorde, we can’t destroy the master’s house with the master’s tools, yet here we are, building his house in rainbow colors. It was a surprise, but I was pleased nonetheless, because we need to address how our community, which is supposedly built on the acceptance of individuals, reproduces the beauty standards of non-queer folk, in a concentrated deadly dose that normalises eating disorders and unhealthy self-images. Last year was the first year that Pride included the topic of Fat Liberation. I could also choose to be fat, but then I would have to be dominant, masculine, and a bear either choice would only ever validate me through fetishization.
![hairless fat gay men hairless fat gay men](https://c8.alamy.com/comp/D044WR/close-up-of-two-obese-fat-men-of-the-beach-D044WR.jpg)
To be feminine, you need to be skinny and naturally hairless, need to caress a man’s arms the same way your cis woman friends caress their homophobic boyfriend’s shoulder when they need to get him to do something. I had just come out, 15 years young, and a friend of mine told me that no man would ever love me if I were feminine and fat I could be one or the other, but not both. Because the fact is that our community is so obsessed with beauty that the moment a fat body, like mine, enters an LGBTI+ space, it’s judgment time, and then what does it mean when the invitation says, “it’s a safe space”? Because it’s not safe for me. It’s another thing on the long list of things we need to remember, when planning a big gracious event, but do we ever stop to think about what a space being safe actually means? If you’re facing oppression on more than one front, you’ll know what I mean when I say that we’re never safe. We talk about safe spaces the same way we talk about the menu at an event. Trigger warning: This article discusses fatphobia and eating disorders Photo by Mia Elisabeth Nielsen A Personal Essay About Being Fat and Queer