I have a problem. There is a dearth of people with autism who like to wear makeup. Sure, some of us autistic people may dislike the look and feel of makeup on their faces, but not me. I love the way my makeup makes me look and feel. Also, once fashion, or more appropriately, style, was demystified for me, I figured out how to use it, too. I like makeup, I like fashion, and I have autism. So why am I nonexistent in the media?
I have a feeling that I am not supposed to be womanly and autistic at the same time. I feel like I am wrong and rebellious when I am in makeup and stylish clothes. That to be autistic, I have to abandon my genuine likes and my being myself in order for people to believe me. I feel weird and like an outsider for being both autistic and girly, or womanly. I also feel this is wrong. So, tell me, media, where are the girly autistics?
It’s a strange thing that a man has to wear a fat suit to be a love interest for Chrissy Metz’ characters. OK, a little background: The man who plays Kate Pearson’s love interest has a fat suit. It does not take away from the person’s authenticity, but it reveals an ugly truth about the state of Hollywood and Television execs: Those people believe a man cannot accept a woman with a perceived flaw unless they have that flaw themselves, and in a worse manner. It turns out, men in Hollywood are Shallow Hals. Does anybody remember Shallow Hal? It was a movie done in 2001 in which a man has to overcome his defining trait to find true love. I think all of Hollywood should watch it, as a lesson to themselves. This leads me to a sad conclusion: If a man is so shallow that they have to date somebody skinny, the standard of beauty these days, where does that leave a fat girl like me? Alone.
Here’s the trouble with losing weight: I am not a skinny little broomstick. I never was, even at my skinniest. When I weighed 125 pounds, I still had curves. So, there are two choices when dealing with men’s shallowness: Accept loneliness and hate myself, or find a man who is not so shallow. But where is a man who is not as shallow? How far away from the media must I roam to find this golden man?
Recently, I’ve been going over some of my posts. I’ve noticed a pattern of pity and self-loathing. Will I die alone? Am I pretty enough for love? Am I too fat for love? It has come to me what I have been doing, and what drives these posts. I have been listening to what the haters say, and not what the people who love me say. It’s a vicious cycle. The haters scream and shout, while those who love you are drowned out. It’s vicious what I’ve been listening to. Well, it’s time to make a definite change. I’ve come here to say NO MORE. It’s time I reverse my ears and listen to those who really love me – those who say that love is there, even if it’s not in a partner.
Autistic people find love. I have known a chemist/inventor who has been in Time Magazine, and she has been married for years. Of course, no one has to marry their partner, but isn’t that sweet? I have decided this: If I am bound to find a soul mate, they will come at the right time. If not, oh well. Maybe I can look at the other ways people can be loved – you know, without partners.
I’m going to go off script and talk about this – it’s related: Ashley Graham – yes, the plus-size Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover model – says she’s not ashamed of her body. Why should she be ashamed of it? She’s a Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover model! Even now, I can hear the cracking and crumbling of the plaster statue of broomstick beauty dictatorship. I’m not a broomstick, but why does that have to shut me out of love and acceptance? It’s sickening.
The worst part of it is this: It recurs almost every now and then. It’s like a pain that flares up with this trigger or that trigger, and I want it to stop. I want to stop feeling like I am inadequate to find and give/receive love. I’m tired of being disqualified because of things I can barely control, let alone things I can NOT control. I can’t control that I’m autistic. I can’t control that I’m short and stocky. I can’t control your attitude, either. So why lament about it?
When I look at Amy Schumer’s pictures, I see a confident, beautiful woman. She seems absolutely fit and beautiful to me. It seems that it is not apparent to some people, because she is also a clear Endomorph.
There are three major body types: Endomorph, Mesomorph and Ectomorph. An endomorph is the kind of body that Amy Schumer has. It is often pear-shaped and stores more fat than the other two. Marilyn Monroe and Scarlett Johansson are two more examples. A Mesomorph is someone who has a balance between fat and thin, and are more muscular than the other two. Halle Berry is a good example, I have been told. An ectomorph is usually the thinnest, and apparently the most in fashion. Most fashion models, Keira Knightley, and other very thin celebrities are good examples. Keep in mind, it is not always apparent which body type a person is or is not. Kindness and sensitivity make the world a better place. (Also, I could be wrong about there only being three major body types: We could have hybrid types, and others named.)
Let me get this straight: I am not a hater of any body type. I think there are beautiful people who exist in all body types. What I actually hate is people being shamed for not living up to some preconceived, changing ideal that they cannot live up to anyway. Body shamers often think people have to be one body type or another to be “healthy” or “attractive,” when in reality there are many people who fit other body types. Being an endomorph myself, I often feel the shame of being the “wrong” body type when I hear others being shamed for being endomorphs. For the people who say “Stop promoting obesity!” To us, I would like to see them cough up the exorbitant surgery costs to change our bodies for us if they hate us so much. I am also sure that mesomorphs and ectomorphs get this same kind of shame when they hear stuff like “Eat a sandwich!” Or “Stop lifting weights ya freak!” All I hear from body shamers is “YOU’RE NOT ME! BE LIKE ME!” To the body shamers, all I have to say is: If I am shameful to you, you are shameful to someone else.