“Can I have your number?”
I hesitated, aware of the charm in his warm, inviting eyes.
“Isn’t this fun? Don’t you want to see me again?”
Indeed, it was enjoyable, and I did want to see him again. Just a week earlier, I had relocated across the country, eager to escape the confines of my small hometown where I was one of the few queer individuals and even fewer plus-size individuals. I had ventured far away in hopes of forming new connections and nurturing fresh relationships, free from the pressures of my past.
Reality hit hard after my move. Instead of anonymity, I found myself isolated in a place where I didn’t know a single person. It felt like being lost at sea, desperately searching for a safe harbor.
Then, in a college bar in my new city, a glimmer of hope appeared. I nervously scribbled my number on a napkin and handed it to him. “I’ll call you,” he promised. My heart warmed; it felt like I had finally found my harbor.
But as he returned to his friends, their reactions were a harsh reminder of societal attitudes toward my body. They stared at me with a mix of disgust and intrigue before celebrating him with laughter and high-fives. The weight of their judgment seeped into my bones, leaving me feeling monstrous and humiliatingly aware of my size. The message was clear: who could possibly desire a plus-size woman?
Your lips are sweet like honey, yet crowded with bees. I see myself as a fragile sapling, then recoil, ashamed for thinking so small.
Twelve years have passed since that moment, yet the pain remains fresh. I still feel the heat of humiliation and the nausea that accompanied his rejection. This incident was just one of many lessons about being plus-sized and seeking love.
Every day, I hear echoes of that moment in snide comments about thin individuals paired with plus-size partners and questions about the longevity of their relationships. I hear it in jokes about weight loss as a prerequisite for marriage. The message resurfaces whenever someone suggests I’d be more desirable if I simply lost weight. The notion that it’s impossible to love a plus-size person is a constant specter haunting me.
Later that year, friends gathered in the campus dining hall. “I’m just here to hang out; I’m not eating,” one said without prompting. “I’ll never get married looking like this.”
At work years later, a colleague sighed over a magazine article featuring newlywed gay couples, lamenting, “I wish they wouldn’t show the plus-size lesbians. Some of us are fit. How did she land a wife, anyway?”
Recently, a man messaged me on a dating app, questioning, “Why are you sabotaging yourself on here?” I was confused and asked for clarification. “Picture three seems included solely to negate the cuteness of pics one and two. What’s your play?” The first two images highlighted my face, while the last showcased my body.
Plus-size individuals are reminded daily that we are often seen as objects of fear and revulsion. When we dare to seek love—real, reciprocal, and profound—we face a wall of harsh stereotypes and unforgiving attitudes. We’re expected to be grateful for any attention, even when it manifests as unhealthy or abusive connections. Over time, those who care for us learn to hide their feelings due to years of being told their desires aren’t valid. We learn painful truths: that bees sting, fire burns, and open affection is often untrustworthy.
At night, I feel the heavy space between us. I am a dark forest, fortunate to be so near a warm home. To enter, trees must be uprooted and reshaped; the outside can never truly come in.
Last spring, while working in a beloved coffee shop, I noticed a young man sitting nearby. He had a thin, muscular build and an angular face. Initially lost in my work, I eventually caught his gaze. Startled by the intensity of his stare, I quickly returned to my screen. Each time I looked up, he was still watching me. Feeling uneasy, I got up for a refill, but upon my return, his eyes were fixed on me again.
I recognized that gaze from the college bar—one I had come to associate with judgment and humiliation. Memories of past comments flooded my mind. I hurried out, frustrated.
Later that night, I recounted the encounter to a friend. “Was he with anyone?” No. “Did he say anything?” No. “Did he make a joke?” No.
“What if he liked you?” she suggested. I paused, caught off guard. It was a possibility I had never considered.
Despite being told I had a “very pretty face,” I often felt that my body rendered me unlovable. In a society obsessed with body image, I had internalized the belief that I was undesirable. The stranger’s thinness was celebrated while mine was shunned. I was taught to always long for strong, thin partners while feeling regret for the body that kept me from them.
The cruel reality is that fat hate stops us before we can even begin to explore relationships. It teaches us that our bodies make us unworthy of love and connection.
Some plus-size individuals isolate themselves, feeling unworthy of connection. Others endure abusive relationships, believing they are fortunate to have any attention at all. Many give up on the hope of finding someone who genuinely desires them, only to be mocked for their loneliness.
Yet, two-thirds of Americans are plus-sized. We are a vast community, rich in diversity. We lead extraordinary lives, cherished by family, partners, and friends. We fall deeply in love, get married, and share joyous lives.
A dear friend of mine recently married, surrounded by loved ones who celebrate her unconditionally. She and her partner, both extraordinary individuals, have cultivated a beautiful life together. Their happiness stands in stark contrast to the judgments placed upon bodies like ours, a joy that feels unimaginable in a world that still grapples with acceptance.
Loving a plus-size person is not an impossibility. The key lies in fostering an environment where we can all believe in and embrace plus-size love.
Start by loving a plus-size person. Begin with understanding her. Her body may bear the scars of past battles and trauma. Approach her world with care and sensitivity; it is a landscape shaped by her experiences.
Do not assume that knowing her body equates to understanding her heart. Let her articulate her feelings and navigate her own landscape. Speak her name.
In this quiet space, she has built a community—become a creator of her own narrative. Love her like you’re discovering a new path. Love her with intention and openness.
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Summary
This piece highlights the struggles and societal perceptions faced by plus-size individuals in seeking love and connection. It emphasizes the need for understanding, acceptance, and the importance of recognizing the humanity behind the body. The narrative encourages readers to break down stereotypes and foster a culture that celebrates love in all its forms.