Post Within A Post

And now we pause for a moment of introspection.  
If you got to this blog on its own, read this one first so you know what I’m talking about.  
So here is the thing – I am an overly confident person, but I don’t think anyone will be surprised to know that a lot of that lack of concern for what people think of my appearance came from necessity – at a certain point in a Fat Kid’s life, you have to stop hoping that someone is going to find you unquestionably attractive, or attractive at all.  It’s not unique to me, it is the plight of the Fat Kid.  You can have everything, including confidence, but there is always the “but”, and really, it’s the “butt”, because you just can’t get away from the fact that no matter how awesome you know you are, LIFE WOULD BE SO MUCH BETTER IF YOU WERE SKINNY.  I know I am amazing – this blog proves it.  I freaking write about myself and how great I think I am ALL THE TIME.  And I really do think that I am as great as I say I am.  
And I know, with zero question, that there are a ton of people who look at me and do not see the Fat Kid, they see Darcy and the amazingness (and sometimes mind boggling stubbornness and arrogance) that is me.  I have never been made fun of for how I look, and if I have, I didn’t notice it because I am surrounded by loving friends and family.  But there is something that constantly nags at a Fat Person that is really hard to describe, but is basically the constant nagging knowledge that we aren’t noticed.  When I posted my interaction on Facebook, so many people responded with “He’s right, you ARE beautiful” and I know they meant that sincerely because they know me – I like to think that I am kind of a beautiful person as a whole, and really, I do have pretty eyes.  My friends who know and love me know see that.
But back in the olden days when I’d go out with friends, it got really old having people pay attention to me so that they could get closer to my pretty friends.  People have friended me on Facebook so that I’d introduce them to one of my friends.  
I add a complexity to all this because I am not interested in dating and I am pretty antisocial, so you’d think none of this would matter, but it still kind of sucked to be completely invisible.  
Then the people who don’t know you well say things like “Oh, you’re not fat” or “You look fine” – it’s so insincere, I’d really prefer you didn’t say anything!  I mean, clearly, I AM fat!  You can’t just say “You aren’t fat!”  And “You look fine”??  That’s like, a tuna sandwich.  “What do you want for lunch?”  “I don’t know, a tuna sandwich is fine”.  It’s insincere.  
So the reason I was really caught off guard by my overly emotional reaction to John Barrowman taking the time to look straight at me and say something is because it wasn’t flippant.  It wasn’t insincere.  It wasn’t a lie.  It wasn’t something he just casually said as I walked out to make me feel better in a passing second.  Whether or not I am actually beautiful is irrelevant, it was the time he took, and the lack of “brushing me off” that made that comment go straight through my many layers of confidence and poke at the thing that exists somewhere way deep down that still desperately needs to be called beautiful.  

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