Yes, fat people deserve to be sexually celebrated, admired, and adored

Fatphobia is a harmful, widespread form of discrimination that targets fat people. It often convinces us of things that aren’t true, especially about our worth and desirability, particularly when it comes to sex. For a long time, I believed the notion that thin bodies deserve admiration and fat bodies just deserve to be tolerated.

Growing up, I was taught that I wasn’t lovable because of my size. Boys at school made me feel gross and unworthy, and I internalized that shame. I hated my double chin, thick thighs, and chubby arms. Later, when romantic or sexual partners criticized my body, it didn’t alarm me—I already felt worthless.

One of my first serious boyfriends, when I was 19, would frequently tell me things like, “Are you sure you should be wearing that?” even though I was wearing the thong panties I’d bought to impress him. He even told me they weren’t made for someone with my body type—while I was wearing them. In my late twenties, I went on a date with someone I met online, and when the topic of sex came up, he mentioned that he only performed certain acts, like oral sex, with thin women. I was hurt, but honestly, I wasn’t shocked. I had long internalized the idea that I should just accept whatever came my way.

No one explicitly told me that there were two kinds of women: those who are thin and have access to 100% of sexual desirability, and those who are fat and get a fraction of it. But I experienced it over and over in subtle ways. For example, one of my favorite childhood movies, License to Drive, had a scene where the main characters—Corey Haim and Corey Feldman—mockingly decided which cars girls would lose their virginity in. When it came to the fat girl, they called her a “dump truck.” The message was clear: fat bodies were worthless, disposable, and undesirable. I knew that I was seen that way too.

The problem is that society often internalizes these harmful views, especially when celebrities or figures like the Coreys are presented as the “heroes.” We start to see these fat-shaming behaviors as normal, and the girls in the film are portrayed as objects for mockery, not as fully realized people.

But here’s the truth: If someone believes that certain body types deserve more sexual attention than others, they’re the problem—not you. Don’t date them. If you do end up with one of them, just go through the motions, then cut them out of your life completely. There’s nothing wrong with you, but there’s something very wrong with their outlook. You deserve better.

I learned this lesson over time, and once I did, I stopped tolerating fatphobic behavior from anyone. I began asking potential partners about their views on body image and sex. I set clear boundaries: no body-shaming comments allowed, no matter how long we’d been seeing each other. If they made a negative remark about my body, that was it—goodbye.

I started expecting my partners to show enthusiasm and admiration for my body, both through their words and actions. I went from thinking I just had to settle for being “tolerated” to expecting to be sexually adored. The more I stood firm in my boundaries, the easier it became to spot fatphobic people from a mile away and build relationships with body-positive partners.

At the end of the day, we all deserve more than just tolerance. We deserve to be celebrated and desired for the bodies we have right now. You don’t have to settle anymore. You deserve to feel truly adored.