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Confessions of a Chubby Chaser

Collectively, as a society, we decide what is culturally “beautiful” based on what we see depicted as sensual, sexual and beautiful on a regular basis. Maybe if there were more fat girls depicted within the sexual, sensual arena, it would help our culture accept fat sexiness as fact.

The problem doesn’t lie solely in the fact that women are emphatically encouraged to feel shame about their bodies and to “fix” them if they are not the required size or proportion; the fact is, people who are attracted to fat women (and men!) are shamed as well. If people aren’t allowed to speak up about their attraction to fat women and men, how are the “skinny slickers,” the “toothpick tappers,” the “bone bumpers” ever going to realize that not everyone sees it their way.

I have finally come out of the closet after battling with myself for YEARS… my name is Nikita Blue and I am a “chubby chaser.” I myself have wished I had softer curves and a gentler physique all my life. Even as a young girl, when I thought of sensuality, I imagined a voluptuous goddess with a soft face, tender eyes and a pouting smile. I dreamed that I’d be with a girl like that someday… or maybe even be a girl like that someday. However, my body was destined to be scrawny and diminutive my entire life.

As you might guess, I was never one to be particularly swayed by the media (largely because I grew up in a restrictive, Baptist home and we weren’t exposed to much media) or by my peers (I also had few friends, partially due to my lack of desire to “blend”). However, this desire – my sexual interest in fat girls and boys – was one that I immediately learned held great shame. Powerful shame. I still dated the boys and girls I liked – and I typically dealt with the discrimination through fights, defending my lovers’ body weight to insecure, often stick-bodied bullies of both sexes – but I never truly ‘fessed up about my preference for full-figured gals and barrel-chested men. I knew it was forbidden. When friends were gathered, divulging the dirtiest details about their sex lives and fantasies, I knew that my secret crushes and lusty daydreams would be scoffed at. So I kept my mouth shut and simply nodded enthusiastically, agreeing with whatever they said and whomever they admired, even if I could find no angle of interest.

For a while, I thought I was a lesbian altogether, since men with their musculatory systems hanging out at me held NO interest whatsoever. But I finally came to the conclusion that I just didn’t like those types of men. I wanted something more.

Once I finally came to terms with what I really wanted, I still kind of had a problem with the word “fat.” Why? Well, it’s obvious: people use the word as an insult, not a statement of fact. “Yeah? Well… you’re fat!” (It also seemed to be a word which “naturally” coupled itself with “ugly.” You don’t want to date Sarah’s sister; she’s fat and ugly. Fat-and-ugly. Fat-and-ugly.) Sooner or later, everyone gets the point.

But “fat” is not – and should not – be an insult. Some people are fat, some people are skinny… most people have fat – and, no, it doesn’t mean that those people should be terrified of diabetes or heart disease or whatever, for God’s sake. Breathe, and relinquish all concern for a person’s health to that person… and breathe… okay… now, some people are fat, some people are skinny, and most people have fat. (Also, lots of people smoke cigarettes and drink, but they don’t get dragged onto talk shows with family members who are “concerned” for their health.)

But because of the fact that I’d been fed the huge LIE that beautiful = thin for so long… and the equally-as-damaging lie that people who get turned on by soft curves or meatier muscles have something wrong with them, I have been in the closet with my secret for over 20 years.

I love ALL of the fat on my boyfriend’s body. I also love every follicle of hair, every square inch of skin and every powerful muscle.

And I’m not ashamed to tell you that I think fat women are HOT.

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