Hi, my name is Rachel, and I am a fat person.

I am fat, and I am fine with the word fat. Being fat is morally neutral. Thus, being called fat should also be neutral. It’s okay to name it.

Some people dislike the word fat and want to equivocate. Curvy. Full figured. Plus-sized. Enlarged. Abundant. Big. Bigger. Larger. Overweight.

I equivocate too. Particularly in yoga, when talking about the classes I offer, I tend to say big-bodied yoga or yoga for bigger bodies.

Fat is a word that tends to elicit weird reactions. I don’t use it to describe other people because I know not everyone is okay with it. Even using it to describe myself can be dicey. Sometimes people respond “You’re not fat; you’re beautiful.” Hm. I didn’t say I was ugly; I said I was fat. More often, they let out a little “aw” as though I’ve just said something hurtful. But they are the ones assigning hurt to that word, not me. I call these reactions fat-phobic, but the very idea that fat-phobia exists also tends to elicit tetchy responses. Well, look. If you feel the need to whisper the word or soften the word with euphemisms, then yeah, you’re working with something you think is taboo.

In my view, the name you ascribe to my body shape and size doesn’t much matter. Nor does the number matter much, although that was a lesson learned the hard way. In my adult life, I have weighed under 150 and over 300, and I have been obsessed with my weight at both ends. For years, I would journal my weight and write “I am <number>” instead of “I weigh <number> of pounds” because I was literally and figuratively defining myself by my weight.

These days, I’ve got some perspective. I know what I’m putting in my body, and I know what I’m doing to take care of my body. I also know that at this point in my life my overall wellness is much better than it has been at several points where the scale showed a smaller number. Everything else is between me and my health care team.

Sometimes fellow fat people share stories of being openly harassed for being fat, and I believe them. Personally, that’s not really been my experience. I’ve experienced some toxic behavior from people who were supposedly my supporters. With strangers and people at large, however, as a fat person, I’ve mostly felt invisible. Because fat is taboo, people don’t want to see it. So instead they see right through it. I’m not complaining. Invisibility can feel safe. (Spoiler alert: it’s not.) It took me a lot of years to realize I could put myself forward and be proud of myself for my accomplishments even while being fat. Even now there is some trepidation that fatphobic haters will make their way here, aghast at me simply existing in public.

So, why write this post? Why call attention to my fatness? Why teach yoga and show my body and name my fatness without apologies?

Mostly, because I can. I touched on some of this in my mission statement. Being fat means being part of a marginalized and under-estimated group. I’ve been very lucky in my life for the most part, and I’m also part of several groups that are granted unearned privileges in society. I feel an obligation to use that privilege for good. Using privilege for good goes way beyond helping people who are marginalized based on body size, of course. This particular post focuses on fatness because it’s an area of marginalization that I personally know quite well.

I spent most of my life thinking my body was just a sack that carried my brain from place to place. I was disconnected from and ashamed of my body. Through yoga, I learned how to sit in my body and feel some of the magical things it does for me automatically. Through yoga, I learned about some of the magical things my body would do if I asked it. I began to know my body a little better; I found more strength, flexibility, and balance. I began to feel more comfortable in my own skin, both on and off the mat. And, I did it all while fat.