When Ed and I first started dating, his friends were cool about it. I met them all at the same time and we had some good times together. I liked his friends, they liked me, everyone was happy.

Ed’s best friend at the time had a question, though – he asked Ed what it was like, having sex with a fat girl.

I still think about that comment sometimes, and it always stings – like there was nothing else to me, no personality or physical atttributes that could be at all interesting – I’m just a fat sack of flesh with a vagina; how’s that working out for you? Do you have to look away or do it in the dark or think of porn stars to get it up around her? I mean, she’s *fat*. Sex couldn’t possibly be good!

That friend just got engaged, and my first thought was “I wonder if she’s fat”.

I guess we don’t always grow as much as people as we’d like.

(for the record, I’m awesome in the sack)