We’ve all heard it before: the warnings and cautionary advice given to women and girls, lest they end up alone. “Don’t become too successful, you will intimidate men and end up alone.” “Don’t eat that, you’ll become too big and you’ll end up alone.” “Don’t insert activity here, men don’t like that and you’ll end up alone.” Our culture drills fear into women and girls from a young age: if you don’t behave a certain way, you will scare men off and end up on your own. These scare tactics, intimidation, and fear are used to control women, keep us in line, and encourage us to shrink ourselves for the benefit of men. Women are taught to be smaller than men, shorter than men, to make less money than men, and to be less accomplished all around, etc. The list of advice is endless.
One of the themes of my book, “Plus-Size: A Memoir of Pop Culture, Fatphobia, and Social Change,” is desirability politics and how my identity as a plus-size Black woman translated to me being treated undesirably growing up – and my feeling undesirable as a result. In my adolescence, I was obsessed with courting male attention. I now know that this was not of my own volition, but due to our society’s conditioning of women and girls to seek out and place their value in male validation. For another perspective on this, see Emily Ratajkowski’s novel, “My Body.”
Although I had already learned to love my plus-size body and had confidence in my personality, intelligence, and skills, I still had low self-esteem at times because of the lack of male validation. This presented a significant hit to my mental health. At 18, I was terrified of ending up alone and convinced that this was my fate. Unfortunately, my experiences after that confirmed this theory as I navigated dating in thin-obsessed California’s dating scene (both NorCal and SoCal). My deepest fears were coming true: was I undesirable to men? If so, what did that say about me?
I remember an anecdote from a formerly plus-size girl I went to school with. She said that she used to cry herself to sleep every night, thinking that no one would ever love her. This echoes the sentiments a close friend of mine hears women say at his AA (Alcoholics Anonymous) meetings. “I’m so fat and ugly, no one will ever want me.” I am glad that I found my way out of that head space, but as Gabrielle Union wrote, “You can’t self-esteem yourself out of the way people treat you.” Discrimination against marginalized groups continues to be rife in U.S. society. For instance, plus-size women like myself continue to face discrimination in healthcare, employment, the clothing industry, and more. And if you have other marginalized identities – like being a Black woman – the discrimination is even worse.
This lower social status makes it difficult for plus-size women, trans, and nonbinary people to access society at all – including socially; this results in social exclusion. Many plus-size women experience being hidden or kept a secret by men who are sexually attracted to us, but are afraid of being seen with us in public. This state of affairs made me want male validation even more – when you are taught that you can’t have something, sometimes it makes you want it even more. I wanted so bad to beat the odds and not to become a statistic: studies show that Black women are the least likely group to get married in the U.S. Luckily, around this time when I was in college, I discovered feminism and it cemented my feminist values. Including the idea that women determine their own value and don’t need to depend on men or male validation. Hallelujah – I didn’t know it at the time, but I had been saved.
I’ve seen the negative effects the pursuit of male validation has on women coded as desirable, just as much as I’ve seen it have on women coded as undesirable. For women that are seen as desirable, who are often thin, able-bodied, white or light-skinned, etc., the pursuit of male validation consumed them. They would only value themselves based on what men thought of them or their looks and nothing else. As a result, they only cared about their looks and nothing else. Naturally, this resulted in stunted intellectual and emotional growth and maturity. So you see how the patriarchy ensnares women no matter what. While I fretted about my lack of male validation, I saw conventionally attractive friends engage in risky behaviors in order to please men and boost their self-esteem.
I wrote in my book, “Plus-Size: A Memoir of Pop Culture, Fatphobia, and Social Change” that the pandemic was the first time I had been alone with myself long enough to reflect on my past and current selves, learn from past mistakes, and most importantly, learn to love being alone! I have always been an introvert, but I was always surrounded by people. I never thought in a million years that I could learn to love being alone, but I did. That doesn’t mean that I don’t have my bad days or moments. Even though I know better, it is hard to completely undo the social conditioning from birth that our society instills in women and girls: that our sole mission in life is to find a man and get married.
There are more single people now than ever before. According to the 2010 U.S. Census, for the first time in U.S. history, there were more single women than married women. Accordingly, social attitudes about singles are slowly becoming more positive. Hopefully this means no more “spinster” and “crazy cat lady” labels or stigma. Meanwhile, single men have always been less stigmatized and seen as coveted “bachelors.” This is one example illustrating how it is the patriarchy and sexism behind the way society treats single women. We can create a kinder, more accepting society that embraces single people socially and through supportive public policies.
I don’t know what my future holds – if I will fall in love with a man and get married. Or if that marriage will last. But I am no longer allowing the fear of being alone to dictate my life or control me. It is a work in progress – there will always be the fear of the unknown. But we conquer that fear by committing to living in the present and enjoying the life that we have.
“Plus-Size: A Memoir of Pop Culture, Fatphobia, and Social Change” is available for purchase.
Barnes and Noble: Plus-Size: A Memoir of Pop Culture, Fatphobia, and Social Change by Mekdela, Paperback | Barnes & Noble® (barnesandnoble.com)
