BBW

It's funny how even the opinions of idiots can have a devastating affect on your self-esteem.  Is it just me?  How is it that I can be reduced to the same feelings of shame and worthlessness due to my appearance that I experienced when is was 12-14? How is it that I never got over this?
Or, is it, that I only managed to escape the ridicule for most of my later teen and adult years because I lost weight?  Perhaps this is what it means to be a fat person in society; that you never get to escape the junior high school bullies.
I've heard the term BBW (big beautiful woman) before.  I've never really given it much thought.  It always seemed to be a tag used in places like craigslist dating by women who were very obese and trying to seem proud of their bodies or by men who fetishized obese women.
I, myself, would have never considered myself to be a BBW.  In fact, the very term BBW smacks of creepy desperation to me, and I do not like it at all.
I'm about 40 lbs overweight at most.
Maybe I would call myself a CBW, or even a PSBW (Chubby Beautiful Woman or Pear-Shaped Beautiful Woman), but I would have NEVER considered myself a BBW. 
Well, I guess I was wrong.
A few weeks ago, I was given the task of hiring a leasing agent for the commerical real estate company I work for.  I interviewed a number of people, one of whom was so stupid that he thought that Shanghai was located in Japan.
Of course, I chose not to hire this individual, who took my rejection email as an opportunity to ask me out on a date.
Now, I'm used to being hit on and asked out.  Or, at least, I used to be when I was thin (not so much anymore, but because I have an amazing boyfriend that I'm happy with, I don't concern myself with the decrease in male attention I receive these days very often).  I usually handle these sorts of invitations by politely ignoring them.
I thought it was weird and inappropriate to be asked out by a person I'd just rejected, via email, for a job but I didn't think much more about it than that.
Then came the other email he decided to send, which read; "I don't know if you recieved my last email, but I meant everything I said.  Send me an email let me know how you feel.  I love BBW's and want to take you out and get to know you and have fun!!"
What. the. fuck.
BBW? Really?
When, the fuck, did I become  BBW? When did I enter the category of having to endure the creepy obsessions of fatty chasers?
I think that being called a BBW is about the very worst thing anyone has ever said to me, and I now find myself incredibly ashamed of my weight.
All of these insights I thought I had had at Burning Man turned out to be delusions, and the reality of the situation is that I am fat and subject to being fetishized by those very creeps I hate.
Gross.
I am seriously considering adopting some very unhealthy lifestyle changes in order to fix this problem, and to be quite honest, I DON'T CARE if they're unhealthy changes.  This weight has got to fucking go.

Burning Man

In the past, I've been accused of having a somewhat dysmorphic view of my body.  I will admit that I've often seen fat and flaws in proportion that may not be realistic.
When I was 118 pounds at age 19, I used to walk around wearing a girdle so my "fat" wouldn't stick out. 
To me, the overweight proportions of my body are very, very real.  Startlingly, humiliatingly, real.
For 4 years now, I've been struggling with the fact that I suddenly have and extra 30 lbs on my body and it's made me feel terrible about myself.
At Burning Man this year, I had to make some decisions regarding how much skin I was willing to expose and how neurotic I was going to be about it.  Burning Man is full of half-naked women with perfect figures.
There are so many, in fact, that you stop comparing yourself to them because it just becomes overwhelming and depressing if you let it.
Granted, there are plenty of out-of-shape naked people as well, but that's a cold comfort when you're as self-obsessed and vain as I am.
However, walking around half-naked in the inescapable sweltering heat in front of 30 thousand people has taught me a few valuable lessons;
1) I'm really not nearly as fat as I think I am
2) My legs need some serious work, but this doesn't mean I'm fat and need to starve myself to death-- rather, I can just-- you  know-- work out my legs and build some more overall muscle and I should be fine

3) Even with an extra 30 pounds, I am proportioned very well, with nice firm breasts and a small waist.

I've decided to only weigh myself once per month from now on as well as stop obsessively counting calories.  I will try to eat as close to a Paleo diet as possible and spend at least a few hours a week on the stationary bike at the gym.
Most of all, I'm going to try to stop hating myself every damn time I look at more than just my face in the mirror.