I've never had a boyfriend. My last sexual encounter was two years ago—a little drunken fooling around with someone who wouldn't speak to me the next day. (Not that it mattered, but I only wanted more sex, not a relationship.) I've tried every sort of flirting short of "Nice shoes, wanna fuck?"
On one level, I'd like to blame my weight. I'm about 200 pounds. But it's not like all fat chicks don't get sex. I know a certain well-rounded lady in the music industry who has a different boy toy every time I see her. I know how to clean up and dress well when I want to. I believe I'm "cute," and if I weighed 125, I'd probably be a knockout. But I don't. And please don't suggest losing weight or exercising. Let's assume my fatness is a trait that can't go away, like skin color.
It'd be easy (and possibly accurate) to just blame the weight, but if other fat chicks get sex then maybe it's my personality? I have friends, even good male friends. But none of them are attracted to me. Maybe I have a smell of desperation that boys can sense? Occasionally I've been told that my objects of desire are unrealistic (usually some skinny raver boy with blue hair). But what am I supposed to do? Fake being attracted to someone I'm not?
So if fat chicks can still have boyfriends and I'm not so repulsive personality-wise to my friends, why can't I attract someone?
Sexless in Seattle
I'm not a Slenderella by any stretch, and I've still managed to convince a variety of very handsome young men to put it to me—some repeatedly! Look around and you'll notice tons (literally) of sexually sated chubby chicas. By the same token, don't be thinking that all our skinny sisters out there are getting nailed like Jesus to the cross on a regular basis—it's simply not the case. But you do have to face the fact that we do not live in a fat-friendly society.
You don't want to deal with losing weight, so I won't address it. First off, you seem a bit depressed. Figure out why this is and fix it. Nobody wants to git naked with a sad girl. However, I don't want you to take that as the go-ahead to transform yourself into the zany, madcap "fat friend" (think Kathy Najimy or Rosie O'Donnell—ewww).
You need to get yourself into a fuckable state of mind. First I want you to buy the best vibrator you can afford. Go to Toys in Babeland—they're nice there. Read dirty books and masturbate often. Incinerate all your nasty old-lady underwear and buy some that makes you feel saucy. You say you clean up nice, so do so— all the time. Don't be a slob. Even when you're home alone, it's much more glamorous to watch TV in a kimono than sweats.
Consider for a moment the irony of your yen for "skinny raver boys." I'm not saying you should have sex with peeps you're not attracted to, but c'mon, you're practicing the same kind of looksism you whine that guys do. Expand your horizons or cop to the fact that you fall for these unattainable types because you're too chickenshit to risk having someone actually fall for you.
A few years back, I went through a two-year stretch of celibacy after a difficult breakup. I was constantly bitching and moaning to my friends that I was never going to get laid again. One friend finally got so fed up with my incessant kvetching that she took it as her own personal mission to get me fucked. One enchanted evening we were at our favorite bar (ah, liquor, that most amour-inducing elixir) when we happened upon a foxy, but extremely inebriated, barely legal young man. My pal pretty much shoved us into a cab and off we went. I was liquored up enough to have zero inhibitions, and he was just sober (and young) enough to get it up. The next morning, I woke up laughing and pointed him to the door. I suppose there is no real moral (or morality) to this tale, but after that night, I never had a huge problem getting me some. I didn't look any different on the outside, but something inside had switched on. And it wasn't just my pocket rocket.
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