Conflicting Thoughts

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MickeyFFA

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(Lengthy) The everyday thought process of an F/FA.


Conflicting Thoughts

Being an FFA is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand you’ll see and experience things that the people around you most likely will never know. You’ll know what it feels like to be in the arms of someone soft and sensual. You’ll know the joys of a simple piece of cake. You’ll probably share the most intimate relationship, the one between a feeder and their feedee, at some point in your life. You’ll realize that what society tells you isn’t always what’s right and from that realization you’ll probably begin to question other more widely accepted facts as well.

As an FA, your life will be similar to that person standing next to you on the subway and at the same time you can feel it somewhere deep in your gut that there will always be fundamental pieces of each of your inner puzzles that will never quite line up.

Some days, for others of us traveling down the road of self acceptance it might be most, you’ll wish you knew what that random person on the subway was thinking about. You’ll wish these thoughts that seem constantly flood your brain will stop and in that instant you can be “normal”. You’ll wish that you can loose those 20 pounds with out feeling like you’re sacrificing an important part of yourself that maybe once you loose you’ll never find again.

This is how I feel. There are days when I don’t even think about being an FFA. I don’t feel different. I feel like I can connect with my girlfriends as closely as I let them think we are every day. I can check out guys with them and actually mean it when I say they’re hot. Because I do find thin guys attractive too. I can look at the girl with the perfect body and sigh in envy with them and some days actually mean it.

But not every day. Not even most. Because for that week of normalcy, for those few days, minutes, hours however long it lasts, I know I’m not really me. The real me looks at those guys and wonders immediately where the first pounds will fall and if they might just think the same way I do. The real me doesn’t really want that “perfect” body. In fact the real me likes my body just fine. But since we’re talking about the real me here, I should probably say that the real me also cares a lot about what other people think. More than I’d like to admit to any one but this keyboard. .
Other days I do wish I had that field hockey toned body. I wish I could wear a bikini out in the sun and have guys look me up and down with that look I’ve always wanted to get. And I could have that. I know I could because the work really isn’t that hard. I’m just afraid.

I’m afraid in the same way the new kid feels when they come to a new school for the first time. I’m afraid I’ll be trapped in a body I worked so hard for and now don’t want anymore. I’m afraid that along with loosing my thighs I’ll loose that part of me that’s taken so many years to finally get a handle on. I’m afraid that the me I am right here right now will cease to be and I’ll be stuck with a shell of myself, crazy as it sounds. I’m afraid at that point I’ll really have to admit I’m different from all my other girlfriends and while we may have the same number of organs and appendages, our very cores are so drastically far from being in line with one another.

Because being an FA isn’t just about liking fat on a person. It’s not just about the rolls and gaining. It’s something deeper, for me anyway, that transcends physical attraction. It’s a mental state of being. It’s a bond between yourself and whomever else thinks the way you do. As an FA you really do see the world differently than everyone else. Things are no longer black and white. People who normally you wouldn’t think twice about play on your heart strings and touch you in places your “normal” friends will never understand.

You seek to comfort those who are different. You root for the underdog or the weird kid whenever you can because chances are you’ll be in that position once in your life. If you want to really live a life worth living, you know you will be. At some point you will have to tell a lover, a friend, your husband, that you’re not like them. You’ll have to say those inevitable words “I like fat guys” out loud and then really be separated from them. You’ll know that look on their face, the confusion, uncertainly and know deep down that they’ll never understand. And that is the scariest thought of all.
No matter how close you become to someone, you can share everything from sodas to deepest darkest secrets, there’s one aspect of your life they will never truly be in sync with you on. Because when you get in that mood, when you need to voice an opinion on a big body or comment on a truly stunning fat person and I’m sure you know what I’m talking about, that same look will cross their face again. In that moment you’ll be reminded of how you can be sitting right next to them and yet you’re both a million miles away.

The point of this tirade is not to emphasize the physical parts of being an FA but rather the good and bad baggage that comes with it. The same way a guy likes red heads, we like fat blah blah blah. I’ve said it myself a hundred times and actually believe it on occasion. But reality is it’s not as simple as liking red heads. Because of my weight, because I’m not that field hockey toned chick, I’ve learned lessons that some people spend their entire life times trying to find.

I’ve become empathetic, especially towards the fat girls of the world. I’ve become strong. I’ve learned that words when used the right way can make wounds so deep you’d think they’d never heal but in a single sentence can be bandaged and nursed. I’ve learned that the world doesn’t know what you’re thinking or feeling 24 hours a day, even if sometimes it feels like it does. But my favorite lesson of all, cliché as it sounds, is the simple don’t judge a book by its cover. Because you’ll never know who another FA is just by looking. It’s not something you can easily find. Instead we must all stumble around in the dark, find our own separate paths and hope that at some point they converge with another who just happens to think the same way you do.
So as I said, there are days when I wish I didn’t have this so- called blessing. Times where I wish I could be in the dark. That’s the only way I would want to change though, if I could go back to not knowing. Since I know however, since I’ve seen the proverbial light, I could never go back. Being an FFA isn’t simply a fetish, preference, attraction whatever you’d like to call it. It’s a journey that only a select few will ever get the chance to take. Somebody up there must have chosen me. And for that reason I do consider myself blessed, most days.
 

wrestlingguy

"Bitter Old Man"
Joined
Sep 29, 2005
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Grasshopper, with time, the "blessing" becomes an everyday occurance. Just go with the flow.

Thank goodness I never really had to think about it........that is, worrying about what the rest of the world thought of me.
 

Tad

Dimensions' loiterer
Joined
Sep 29, 2005
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The great white north, eh?
That is a great post. I've felt so much of what you were describing, but I'd never looked at a lot of it that way. Totally suggested reading for everyone here, from my POV.
 

Just_Jen

Woot!
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Dec 19, 2007
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this is an amazing post! it sums up quite a few of the things i feel daily and still dont yet understand..

*big hugs*
 

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