A collection of short, funny but very real stories from the perspective of an overweight or obese person.
If you’ve never had a problem with your weight/size then you’ll never understand the anxiety that stems from needing to go to the toilet in public.
The Pub Toilet
I remember the day I first walked into a toilet cubicle in a pub. I walked in and tried to close the door in one swift movement as I had done since being a child. It didn’t work. The door jammed against my body. I tried oh so elegantly and silently to step back and push myself into the side of the cubicle so I could get the door shut but it just wouldn’t go. The lock mechanism was digging into my tummy. In fact I think it left a mark that day as I tried repeatedly to pull the door shut passed my large frame.
I had to shimmy my way down the side of the toilet (tripping over the ever so disgusting toilet brush and thanking a higher power that the sanitary bin was on the other side) with the door open before leaning forward to shut the door and then releasing myself to the correct position in order to have a wee.
The same shimmy dance had to be completed in order to exit said cubicle too.
I wasn’t even wearing a coat.
I was so mortified, I didn’t even wash my hands for fear of catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I hardly spoke for the rest of the night. This was the moment I knew I could no longer be in denial. Something had to be done.
Service Station Toilets
Service station toilets and the combination of layers. Fashion and functional clothing such as coats are a fatties nightmare in a public toilet.
It’s no use trying to leave it all on and go. Our arms just arnt long enough to reach the toilet roll which all that clobber on.
It has to come off. Depending on the size of the cubicle will depend on whether I can take that clobber off inside the cubicle or whether I have to do it before I go in.
If I have to take it off it before I go in, I either have to leave it on the side which is often wet and full of soapy residue, hand it to a friend or hold it above my head just to get me and my clobber into the damn cubicle. If I do get it in then I’ve got to hope there is a hook on the back of the door otherwise I have to lay it down on the floor and I don’t need to express my anxiety about that!!
Once you’re in the cubicle you can breath a little because no one can actually see how uncomfortable you feel and must look.
As you sit on the pan, your backside spews over the side of the seat squashing itself between the sanitary bin and the cubicle wall. Thank goodness no-one is going to see the bin shape marks on your hip!
Where is the bloody toilet paper??
My arm is covering the large box that protrudes out from the cubicle wall (as if the cubicles arnt small enough they add the largest toilet roll holders that stick out half way across). I can’t reach it with the arm that is next to it because I’m too close and I can’t reach it with my opposite arm because my large (now squashed up further with my belly giving my boobs the wonder bra effect) frame prevents my arm from reaching it, so I have to adjust my position slightly so I can reach which causes the sanitary bin to lift up and slam back down once it unsticks from that part of my body. If it’s your lucky day, your bum skin doesn’t get trapped in the flap door of the bin. Please tell me I’m not the only one this has happened to, please!
Hotel Room Toilets
I get to my lovely hotel room after a long days travel and eagerly peak into the bathroom to check out the lovely facilities. only to notice that the toilet has been squeezed between the wall and the sink unit.
At least I can close the door I thought. That’s a bonus.
I drop my pants, cross my fingers and attempt to sit down on the toilet seat. Luckily I’m a little sweaty from the travel and walk from the station so I slide down the sink into and wall onto the toilet lid, but it’s close. (I’m seriously considering travelling with lube just for moments like this). The position of the toilet actually pushes me slightly over to one side too which means I’m only just peeing into the bowl. Another inch to the left and I’d be mopping it up rather than flushing it.
When waiting in line to use a disabled toilet.
Do they think I’m just lazy? Do they think I’m fat because I’m disabled or disabled because I’m fat?
How do I explain that being fat dis-ables me from using a normal toilet. I’ll have to walk with the limp and pretend I’ve got a prosthetic leg so that they don’t question me. I’m far too embarrassed to just tell the truth. Why do I even feel like I have to justify myself to others. I have every right to use this toilet. Luckily many are labelled as ‘less abled’ now rather than disabled and there are posters saying that not all disabilities are visible. Mine is but I can pretend it’s not.
Ultimately if disabled facilities aren’t available I can’t relieve myself and even then I’m still looking for a story other than the truth.
Don’t even get me started on aircraft toilet facilities!!! As if having to ask for a seatbelt extender isn’t embarrassing enough, I now can’t use the toilet for the duration of the flight. This means I’m also too scared to have a drink onboard too.