A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The Office.

I used to work in an office in Manchester City Centre. I would catch the bus on Oldham Road at 7:55am, which would take me straight into town. The bus was always full of fellow office workers, men in ties, and woman in heels, it’s just the way it was.

I would queue with a line of bodies waiting to board our chariot and by the time we were collected the bus was usually almost if not entirely full. The lucky commuters would fill the seats and the unlucky would stand in the aisles holding tightly to the poles, some holding not so tightly but usually regretting it as the bus pulled away jerkily from the dozen stops ahead of us. Quite often, but not always, someone - always male - would catch my eye, he would stand and offer up his seat to me. I was never really sure what to do because I was a healthy able bodied person, I didn’t need to sit down and was quite capable of standing. However; I almost always graciously accepted. Was that chivalry? He was acting the role of the perfect gent and I was be the submissive curtseying lady? As well as giving me his seat there’d be the occasional comment passed, those cliché catchphrases, ie: “nice weather for ducks” if the rain was pouring, or “another day, another dollar”, or “I’ve warmed it for you,“ referring to the seat he’d just vacated for me.

Suddenly, things started going awry, and by ‘things’ I mean my endocrine system and by ‘awry’ I mean the PCOS I had been diagnosed with as a teenager started to present itself in more than just lumpy ovaries and absent periods. Those things continued but also I started gain weight faster than I can honestly explain. For example, I bought a lovely grey pencil skirt one evening. I wore it the next day and the fit was perfect. I pulled it out of my wardrobe a week later to wear again and this time I couldn’t fasten it. I didn’t have time to fuss so wore something else and a week later I attempted to wear it again. This time I couldn’t get it up over my belly and a month later I couldn’t get it beyong my knees. Within a year I had gained 8 stone. My (deemed by some) pretty face, athletic body, and twinkly eyes were all still there of course, but they were now swaddled in rolls of padding, yes, even my twinkly eyes struggled to stand out amid my newly gained chubby cheeks.

I worked in the same office, caught the same bus, probably with the same commuters but my commute was not the same. Now I really would’ve appreciated that often deemed as useless chivalry and I would’ve loved for a stranger to offer me his seat, because now my back, hips, knees and ankles ached under my newly acquired weight, but a funny thing happened…bigger I got the more invisible I became. No one passed morning commentary anymore, was the weather no longer nice for ducks? No one ever looked my way. Was today not worth another dollar? Are passing comments only to be passed by those falling within a weight range deemed normal by society? Is there a cut off and men cannot be polite to those who are heavier? Why is that? Did these men suddenly become fearful I might think they find me attractive me? Were they worried someone might see them chatting to me and my chins and feel embarrassed? Did the sight of my extra large body sting their eyes? According to my doctor I was morbidly obese, but as far as the men on the bus were concerned I was invisible.