I’m Not Here to Look Pretty

I’m forty-one, I’m fat, and I’m aware that Society would really rather I not wear a bikini out in public.

That’s fine. Society has a right to its opinion.

I’m going to keep fucking doing it, though.

Being Beautiful Isn’t the Point

Here’s the issue I have with so much of what people tell me in an attempt to be supportive about my body:

The support almost always comes in the form of reassurances about my aesthetic or sexual appeal.

You’re beautiful! You’re sexy! You are gorgeous!

And look, I am a person who will always try to take comments–be they compliments or criticism–in the spirit in which they are intended. People who say these things almost always have good intentions, and far be it for me to shame someone who is just genuinely trying to be supportive and uplifting. I also fully believe that several of them are absolutely genuine in these compliments and really do find me attractive, and I’m certainly not going to belittle their sincerity.

But the crux of it all is, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if I’m Objectively Attractive — if there even is such a thing* — or if I’m a bona fide Swamp Hag.

My attractiveness to other people does not determine what I am allowed to do, what I am allowed to wear, or how I am allowed to carry myself.

People are allowed to find me unattractive. People are allowed to think my thick thighs are unappealing, that my belly rolls aren’t sexy, or that my body hair is gross. People have personal tastes, and some of them are innate, and some of them are socially constructed, and while I always encourage people to examine their biases, the fact remains that they are allowed to have them. You don’t have to think I am beautiful.

You just can’t treat me like shit if you don’t.

The problem with reassurances that I’m “actually beautiful” is that it still centers being physically appealing as the most important thing, and the thing that gives me value and the right to exist as I am, and it’s not. My comfort in how I present myself, my freedom to take as much or as little effort as I want in my appearance, my ability to exist without being held to the expectations of others — those are the things that matter.

The Objectively Attractive Person and the Bona-Fide Swamp Hag both have the same rights to exist comfortably in their own bodies by virtue of being human, whether or not those bodies cater to anyone else’s sexual or aesthetic tastes. Period.

People aren’t deserving of respect only if you want to fuck them. That’s not how this works.

Despite the misconceptions about bisexuality, I don’t find everyone attractive. I have preferences, I have things I find especially attractive in people, and I have things that are wholesale turn-offs.

When I go to the beach, chances are there are going to be some people I find very Appealing, and others whom I do Not. And that’s ok. Because those people — both of those people, the ones that are Attractive to me and the ones that are Not — those people are not there for my consumption.

They’re there to swim, or get a tan, or collect seashells, or eat ridiculous amounts of fried dough (honestly, same). They probably want to feel the sand beneath their feet and the sun on their skin, they want to enjoy the fresh air and try to get a modicum of pleasure out of their day. So I let them do that. I let them live their lives and go about their business.

“Hold on; If I have a right to an opinion…

…then why can’t I express it?”

I mean, you can, technically. No one can stop you; you aren’t going to get arrested for offering a hot take about how I look in my swimsuit. The government isn’t going to send out agents to silence you.

But you’re going to be saying a hell of a lot more about yourself than you’re saying about me.

Let’s imagine you hate seafood. That’s an opinion, and it’s a perfectly within-your-rights opinion to have. But if you go up to a table full of strangers in a restaurant and tell them you think they’re disgusting for ordering the salmon, most people aren’t going to applaud you for Telling It Like It Is.

They’re going to wonder who the hell you think you are, and why you would assume anyone should give a shit about how you feel about their choices.

And you’re probably going to be escorted out by security.

You’re allowed to express your opinion — it might be a shitty thing to do, but technically you can. But when your opinion infringes upon someone else’s personhood or their right to exist comfortably, then expressing that opinion is going to come with natural consequences. People are going to call you out on being invasive, creepy, or over-stepping boundaries; you’re going to look like a fool in front of whomever you’re with; or, someone is going to straight up go off on you. So, honestly, approach at your own risk.

On Personal Tastes

The bottom line is, no one — men, women, non-binary folk — are beholden to you with regards to their appearance or the way they choose to express themselves or exist in their bodies.

They are not required to make themselves look attractive for you.

You are not required to find them attractive. You are required to treat them with respect whether or not you find them attractive.

That being said, even when it does come to attractiveness, no one person gets to dictate who or what is or isn’t attractive in the first place.

Having a specific personal taste or having preferences is not a problem. Once we accept that not everyone has to cater to your personal taste, and you don’t expect them to, there’s no harm in admitting to preferences or predilections. Maybe you particularly like redheads, or are partial to muscular frames.

That’s fine. Just understand no one owes you those things.

Personal taste is just that — personal. And to follow up from my little asterisk notation from earlier: I firmly believe there is no such thing as Objectively Attractive. Attraction is fully subjective, and often times stems from so, so much more than simply a person’s looks.

Brad Pitt has been voted Sexiest Man Alive, what, twice now?

I am not, and have never been, attracted to Brad Pitt. I understand that he’s good-looking, sure, but I’m not attracted to him. I’m not drawn to him.

You know who I do find unbelievably sexy?

James Acaster. Look him up. I am ridiculously attracted to that man.

Tell me I’m wrong? You can’t. You can disagree with me, but that speaks only to your taste, not objective truth.

There is no one type of person that everyone is going to find attractive, and that’s ok.

Like who you like, be who you are, and leave space for other people just trying to do the same goddamn thing.

We’re all just trying to live our damn lives.