I want you to imagine Derek* (name changed to protect the guilty): tall with jet black hair and just a touch of shy swagger. His voice was deep and his pants rode low, sitting on his hips (hips I would soon know well, in the biblical sense).

Before we get any further into Derek’s pants, let me back up and give you some context. Nowadays, I’m a proud fat woman who teaches people how to love their bodies, writes books about it and has a podcast where I share with thousands of people the sounds of myself eating delicious things. I also currently have a body-positive partner who unapologetically adores me with a passion and humility that warms my heart every single day.

But in this story it’s around 2006, and I’m a new and wide-eyed transplant to San Francisco. I’m in my mid-twenties. I am just starting to consider that after years of disordered eating, maybe my body is okay the way it is and I don’t need to spend every moment of my life trying to become smaller. Derek is my neighbor, though we met online. Derek responds to my ad in which I say I’m a BBW (Big Beautiful Woman) seeking someone who is “into that.”

Calling myself a BBW is new to me. It feels scary, but good — really, really good. And more than that, it feels safe somehow. Just putting it out there right away: “Yup, I’m a societal reject whose body is derided daily for others’ amusement, and if you’re not down with seeing me as an actual real human, well, then there’s the door.”

Before I started identifying myself up-front as fat in my dating profiles, I had spent hours, days, months pondering whether I wanted to be a party to upholding the worldview that the most important thing about me to a potential suitor is the size of my body. Conclusion: I resolutely did not. But by that point I had had enough terrible first dates (and I mean terrible as in they excuse themselves to go to the bathroom and never reappear type of terrible) that I decided to take the harm reduction approach. I would simply weed out the men who didn’t like fat women. I convinced myself that this was honesty. This was empowerment. And in a way, it was.

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Instant chemistry

So Derek responds that he’s interested — very interested. We meet up and our chemistry is ri-dic-u-lous. I very quickly learn he’s an amazing kisser and his desire for me is undeniable. By the end of the night he’s under my shirt, and surprisingly goes for my... stomach. He starts with caressing and then moves straight into what I would call worshipping it. And I’m into it. I’m ready for a man to sexualize my entire body, not just my breasts or thighs. And he does all that too. He probably left my place at around 2 a.m. We hang out a second time, then a third time, all in the first week. And by "hang out," I mean we spend time being sexy at my house.

This is another part of my fat girl dating story: Regular old generic misogyny says that straight women don’t get to be “too demanding” too soon. You know the Three Ds? Don’t ask questions. Don’t hold him accountable. Don’t be surprised if he doesn’t call. Even slender women know these horrible rules.

Now take those rules and multiply them by somewhere between 10 and 1,000, and you’ve got the rules that many fat women face while navigating dating. So, even though Derek had asked to see me multiple times in the first week and was clearly attracted to me, I did not push to see him in daylight outside my apartment because I was worried I would come off as too needy.

Here's Derek, "just being honest" with me

After that hot-and-heavy week, Derek asked if he could come over the following Monday. We had yet another a steamy session, and were lying in bed, talking about philosophy or Tarantino or something, and holding hands.

After a pause, I gathered up my courage and asked him if we could go out next time we saw each other, maybe get coffee. After all, we didn’t just have great sexual chemistry — we had long, rollicking conversations and had talked about how much we enjoyed each other's company.

There was silence. As each moment of hesitation passed, I felt more and more like a kid who just broke a vase and was awaiting punishment, vulnerable as hell. He said something about being busy.

And then he leveled with me. “Listen,” he says, “you are my absolute ideal body type, okay? I mean absolute ideal, but if I dated you then my friends would never let me hear the end of it. Frankly, I’m sorry, but I just don’t have the balls to date you.”

Frankly I just don’t have the balls to date you.

So it wasn't a conspiracy theory

I mean, I had to hand it to Derek for explaining a mystical part of heteromasculinity that had heretofore been suspected but never, ever confirmed. Other men who were allegedly Derek’s friends would harass him if he went out with me, and in the cost-benefit analysis, they won. Not me. I had considered this sort of thing before — that men got together in a secret meeting and decided that they would use their collective bargaining power to have sex with fat girls but never date us — but had convinced myself that I was just spinning a conspiracy theory. What truly amazed me was how overt it all was — how clear the stakes were in Derek’s head.

After he left my apartment that night, I cried and cried. If I’m honest, I cried less for his harsh words and more for the loss of how good his desire for my fat body had felt. Now it was gone, and I was scared I’d never again find someone who wanted me like that.

I wish I were unique, but I'm not

I know this is a shockingly stark example of dating while fat, but I think it’s rare to find a fat woman who hasn’t had an experience that is similarly horrific. In my case, I’ve always been fat and have only dated men. It was at around the age of 5 that boys began to tell me that something was fundamentally wrong with me and my body. I’ve heard it all: that I’m disgusting, untouchable, gross. From first grade right up until the day I graduated from high school, the boys in my class told me no man would ever be seen with me, let alone marry me. And after a few years of a dozen boys saying the same things to me, I truly began to believe them.

And so I did what many fat girls in my situation have done; I started dieting. That quickly turned into long bouts of starvation that continued into my college years. The hungrier I was, the more men desired me. It was, sadly, as simple as that.

Even in the depths of my eating disorder, I never lost my chubby cheeks or my double chin. Despite all my efforts at self-destruction, I was still society’s version of fat (as well as the doctor’s.) However, when I was at my smallest and most ill I had more dates than I’d ever had in my life.

Most of the men I went out with shamelessly criticized my body. I dated men who encouraged me to lose more weight, even though I basically had subclinical anorexia. Everyone and everything around me seemed to be telling me that being fat was the problem, not these men verbally berating and judging me. It never occurred to me that there were far worse things than being fat (like, for example, dating these dirtbags). Accepting — let alone celebrating — that my body is just naturally bigger than some other people's didn’t feel like an option at that time.

By the time I met Derek, I had just started coming around to the possibility that maybe I shouldn’t restrict food anymore. Derek’s speech didn’t feel shocking because of its cruelty (I was used to that). It shook me because it felt like a new brand of rejection: Even men who don’t think fat women are gross won’t date me? I thought being transparent in my ad (“I’m a BBW”) was a way of reclaiming my body. I thought I was saying to every potential fatphobe out there: no need to apply.

Instead, I had attracted a man who wanted me to take him to the Church of My Glorious Fat Rolls (which made me feel empowered and hot as hell), but he only wanted to see me privately (which snatched that all away and left me feeling humiliating and ashamed).

This problem persisted even after Derek. Identifying as BBW meant I could weed out men who hated fat, but I was faced with a new problem — I was attracting men who had a strong desire for fat that they didn't want people to know about. I didn't know what to do. I wanted a relationship, but again and again, I encountered men who saw me as sexy, but not “relationship material.” Their behavior clearly wasn’t about a lack of desire for my body. It was about something else, something that went way beyond me and my life.

Degrading dating

Other fat women go through the same kinds of exploitative and degrading things. I want to break the silence for all of us while being clear that we have so many different kinds of experiences. Many can’t relate to my story at all — experiences of dating while fat differ vastly depending on someone’s relative size, shape, luck, privilege, and geographical location. For instance, in thin-conscious San Francisco, where I live, I feel I am a noticeably larger person at a size 18/20. In the working class suburbs of the Bay Area, where I grew up and where larger bodies are more common, my body size doesn’t stand out as much now that I’m an adult.

This is an advantage not all fat women have. I have beloved friends who live in larger bodies than mine, and there are times we’ve gone out together where they’ve been publicly fat-shamed in places I felt safe. Likewise, I once vented on Facebook about how men only wanted to hook up with me. Another fat woman replied in the comments that having access to hookups was itself a privilege that not all fat women have.

However, in working with hundreds of women (queer and straight) over the past decade, I have found that there are some overlapping realities we tend to face when it comes to dating.

What many plus-sized women face when looking for love

• One-sided Secret Relationship Syndrome. What happened with Derek (the serial sex-only clandestine hookup) is very common, especially for straight fat women and especially if they have an additional marginalized identity (like being a woman of color, disabled, transgender or lower income). Fat straight women have often told me that they feel that men see them as “easy.” I remember meeting a man at a BBW singles event and when I asked him why he was there, he said that he was tired of trying to date thin women and fat women were more grateful.
• Coupled without benefits. This is inverse of friends with benefits. Many fat women I've spoken to wind up in full-blown, multi-year relationships (often with thin people) that have a level of intimacy normally reserved for long-term relationships, only without the sex. These “romantic friendships” can also be exploitative, slowly taking up more and more time, energy and other resources (like money or housing). Fat women are targets because people know they can take advantage of the fact that we experience acute romantic discrimination. Because dating a fat person is so shameful in our culture, the initiating party may also be actively in denial that they are in a relationship with a fat person that goes far beyond the boundaries of a normal friendship. Typically, after spending months or even years engaging daily about very personal matters, the fat woman is met with shock when she shares that she has intimate feelings. When that happens, she feels not only the pain of rejection but also disorienting confusion about her ability to decipher when someone is interested in her.
• Speeding toward sex. I think this is common in straight dating generally, but there’s additional pressure for fat women to have sex or be sexual during the get-to-know-you stage.
• We may not feel deserving of good relationships. Fat women are often taught that our bodies are less valuable and less attractive. If we internalize this view, this means we approach dating with “hat in hand,” more concerned with being liked than checking in to see how we feel about the person. The opposite is also true: Anticipating rejection may make us less open, less vulnerable and more quick to throw in the towel but less quick to get back out there. In the end, we wind up with less than we need from relationships.
• We have added obstacles in dating. On top of regular first-date jitters, fat women may also be juggling anxiety about how comfortable a tiny bar tool will be and whether they’ll be able to find an outfit that helps them feel confident. Many fat women feel less comfortable in public because of fear of fatphobic behavior. That’s just a lot of stress.

Breaking up with diet culture

Even though it was only me and Derek in my bedroom that night he gave me the no-balls speech, we actually weren’t there alone. Derek couldn’t have done what he did the way he did without the support of diet culture. One of the biggest challenges I think fat women face is not just the abusive, dismissive behavior we experience, but the fact that it’s considered normal — funny, even. When I was single, I knew my date’s friends may think it’s totally fine to make fun of him for being attracted to me, that my partner’s parents may think it’s totally acceptable to think I’m unworthy of a relationship with their child, that fashion brands believe it’s totally normal not to make date night clothes for someone my size.

Stigma — as much as individual actors — is to blame here. If fatphobia didn’t exist, this behavior would be seen as wrong, plain and simple. Fatphobia is so ingrained, common and pervasive that many of us don't even realize we have these beliefs: that fat people deserve less respect, dignity, and love. It’s easy to feel aghast and angry at Derek, but it’s much more difficult to ask yourself: Would I date a fat person? Would I be just as supportive of my child, niece or nephew dating a fat person as a thin one?

Derek is in my rear view mirror now, and so is the idea that I need to change my body. Nowadays I still live in San Francisco with two Netherland Dwarf bunnies (named after two of my favorite fat icons, John Candy and country singer LuLu Roman) and my boyfriend of two years, Andrew. Every time I call him, he picks up the phone with a “Hey, good lookin’!” I knew Andrew was different when I noticed he never, ever spoke about other people’s bodies. I’d never met a man who didn’t take cheap shots at others. He had this reverence for other people’s humanity that completely floored me.

And when we began having sex, which I initiated after almost two months of seeing each other, he could sense the parts of my body that held lingering insecurity and gently gave them a little extra attention. He compliments me at least a dozen times a day, and I’ve gotten into the habit of doing the same for him. He truly sees me, and I want to be seen.

Boundaries, self-acceptance and feeling safe in my body

In the years following Derek, I evolved and learned, set boundaries and mostly just tried not to lose hope because I wanted love more than anything. Probably the biggest shift happened when I decided I had a new rule: zero tolerance for food or body criticism. I would end things immediately if my date said something negative about how I ate or looked. That was a game changer!

Then, later on, I began to question my own unconscious bias and bigotry. Fatphobia (and racism too, because I’m a woman of color) had made me feel less-than, and I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I tried to compensate by pursuing wealthy men with so-called impressive resumes. But I realized that I never felt comfortable in those relationships. They didn’t criticize my body or how I ate, but they never really accepted or liked that I was weird, loud and loved wearing neon. So I decided it was time to just go with my gut: “If it feels good and safe in my body to be with a person, that is what matters the most.”

I wish I could take credit for coming up with some amazing secret that led me to this beautiful relationship with a loving fat-positive man, but I think to offer some multi-step secret sauce would be an insult to me and to other fat people. Because we don’t need more dating secrets.

We need a culture that is committed to ending fatphobia — in dating and everywhere else — once and for all.

Read More From Our Anti-Diet Series

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Dating as a plus-size can be a little intimidating, particularly if you have not had a fair share of amiable experiences to begin with. But the truth is, dating in whatever body shape you’re in always comes with certain risks. When you open up yourself to someone, you are risking yourself to be judged; you are risking your heart to be broken. Cliche as it sounds, but love really is a gamble. Nevertheless, your weight is not a deciding factor for anyone to not pursue you – it should be your personality as a whole. 

Fellow ladies, here’s a few tips to help you kickstart your dating journey. 

There is no room for catfishing

With dating apps thriving amid the pandemic, it gets easier to be acquainted with the opposite sex even when parties and casual hangouts are currently not possible. But online dating can pose integrity issues since it is very easy to manipulate one’s background online. If you’re up for a serious potential relationship, do not trick men with really outdated photos of yourself nor even try to photoshop them. Sure, there is nothing to be ashamed about with how we look, but if you do not mean to play around, there is no point in pretending to be someone skinnier than you actually are. When you love and respect yourself, you attract the same positive people into your life. 

With the right mindset, dating is not at all intimidating

Our personal preferences vary a lot. Just because a guy prefers a slim woman doesn’t mean he intends to disrespect the plus-size sector. This is probably what many people have in mind, so they find this whole dating game kind of intimidating. The notion that men only want to date skinny women is definitely not true. As a plus-size myself, I used to have a lot of dates and enjoyed their company while I took my time in choosing the perfect guy for me. There are millions of different guys with different tastes in women. And I’m pretty sure all of these men aren’t really looking for a date who pretends to be someone else. Be your genuine self.

Confidence makes you sexy

I used to date this guy in my early 20s. It was the phase when I wasn’t really 100% confident of who I really was. The night started off fine, but I remember letting him choose everything for me just because I couldn’t make up my mind. It was me being too scared to commit a mistake. Should I order a salad? A real meal, perhaps? Should I go heavy with my drinks, or take it easy with wine?

I wanted to be a woman of great finesse, and by wanting to please him so bad,  I started doubting my own choices. I pressured myself by trying too hard, and I projected that pressure on him that he eventually got furious. Believe it or not, I was told that I needed to know exactly what I want – right in the face. You might say, he could’ve let it slip away. That’s true. But one thing is for sure: My inability to decide for myself was annoying enough. Looking back, it’s still cringy how awkward and uncomfortable that evening was. 

The thing is, unless you picture yourself being naive and under someone’s control, then always carry yourself with grace. A confident woman knows what she wants. For me, a woman who drives her partner nuts by not being specific about what she wants is just, for the lack of a better term, not cute! Be confident from day one. Make your rules and preferences clear, as to set a really clear expectation between you two.

Dress up, but dress classy

You can wear whatever you feel beautiful in —  just don’t overdo it. As much as I love wearing dresses, looking decent is also very important. Very short dresses and plunging necklines that reveal most of my cleavage are not my definition of sexy. We send out certain signals by the way we present ourselves. Wear something that makes you feel beautiful and safe at the same time.

You want to keep things interesting? Be yourself

Talk and listen. Open up but make him feel that you are also interested in his stories. Women always want someone who listens well, but do we even pay attention to what they’re saying? In order for someone to listen to you attentively, you have to be a good listener yourself. It’s a give and take process. Ask questions, and let him know what you think about the subject. Do not force a topic just to make you sound smart, or interesting. The most fun conversations are those that went on naturally. Most importantly, never talk about your past relationships. Bringing an ex into the discussion might send him the wrong signals. It shows that you’re either still not over that guy and may portray you as a negative person. 

If you feel conscious ordering food you really like because he may judge your food choices, well then, don’t you think that is something you should know about on the very first day? A lot of plus-size women fear eating in public, let alone during a date, because we do not want any unsolicited advice being shoved on our face. But the point of dating is to get to know each other on a personal level, and if your food choices disappoint the guy, get yourself out of that situation. Pronto!  

SAFETY TIPS LADIES: If you’re into meet-ups, BE SAFE

I know a handful of people who met their beloved partners through Tinder. Dating apps can be a wonderful platform if used properly, and your safety should be on top of your list. Always meet in public spaces. First dates can definitely go wrong, and agreeing to go to your or the other person’s place is not really a good idea. If you are meeting a guy for the first time, let your family or closest friends know. Provide his photo and some basic info, including the place you agreed to meet. Listen to your senses. If you are uncomfortable, or for some unexplained reasons, you feel kind of bad just being around the guy, then don’t do it.

There are free apps where your friends can track your current location. For iPhone users, I suggest you make use of this operating system  because you’ll never know when it is going to be handy. And ladies, never be too complacent. Some guys may be oozing with charm and sex appeal but that doesn’t necessarily mean you’ve found yourself a gentleman. Always watch your drinking glasses, especially on the first day, and never leave your drinks unattended. While dating is a fun experience, it’s still difficult to decipher people’s intentions. Safety is a must. Always be attentive when your drink is being served. 

And how can I be so sure of these tips?

It’s because I’ve dated a lot in the past and tried them all personally. My dating journey has been a wonderful experience! I understood myself and my preferences on a whole new level. To this day, I am in a relationship now for3 years, and guess what? I found my partner on Tinder and we were so happy to have met each other, we decided to move in together after only 4 months of dating. We are crazy happy! 

Dating can be a fun or stressful journey, depending on how you plan to have it played. You can try hard to meet a man’s standards and pretend to be someone else the rest of your dating journey OR, you can be yourself and genuinely enjoy your time together. It’s totally your call. 

And as my year of chronic dating continued, I encountered this more and more. 

Co-workers implying I should lock a guy down quickly because I was “lucky” to have a man want me. Another expressing shock when I showed her a photo of a man I was dating because he was so “fit” (implying that I wasn’t).

“Wow, he’s interested in you?” a friend of a friend said to me over drinks. “I’m surprised so many men want you, considering your size.” 

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It was an endless outpouring of other women questioning my worth.

The thing is, if you are plus-size, you are meant to be ashamed. You are meant to be quiet and dowdy and lack confidence and if you just allow yourself to exist as a normal woman, well that makes other people uncomfortable. If you don’t constantly make self-deprecating jokes about yourself, or constantly prattle on about a diet you are trying, or how you wish men noticed you, then you aren’t playing along.

You aren’t being what a plus-size woman should be; you aren’t being apologetic and invisible.

Truthfully, women are best at upholding unrealistic beauty standards and the patriarchy that created them.

We can be the worst perpetrators of these crimes. 

Throughout the ages, particular body types have been the goal for women, and they do change (think the Kardashians who have tapped into big bums). I understand that if you are a woman, who has worked so hard to be attractive by traditional standards, that seeing another woman not conform and get the same results must be frustrating.

I get it, it’s a complex issue. 

But I’ve learnt that when women make these comments to me, it really isn’t about me at all. It’s about them and their issues. It’s often about years of dieting and deprivation, of gyms and jogging, of never quite reaching some impossible standard. 

These beauty standards aren’t ever about us reaching a point of contentment, because the bar will always keep moving. So, seeing me comfortable in my skin, well I understand for some women it’s triggering. But it’s not my job to take this on. 

Trust me, just be you, in the body that works best for you and let others be themselves as well. I know it’s a tired trope but confidence is sexy, being yourself is always attractive and getting a date has nothing to do with your weight, I’m living full figured proof! 

You can follow Mary Rose Madigan on Instagram here.

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Like my friends, I had teenage crushes on boys I fancied growing up. But unlike them, I never got attention back.

I tried to tell myself it wasn’t because of my weight but the older I got, the more obvious it was that I was larger than the other girls and had my fair share of bullying because of it. People would come up and oink in my face; it was exhausting and humiliating.

The constant judgement made me feel like my body was no longer mine. I became increasingly ashamed of it and covered up whenever I had the chance.

Then at 17, I discovered alcohol. With lots of vodka in my system and a short dress on, I started to get the attention from men I had missed out on and it gave me a huge amount of confidence.

I became promiscuous, craving the feeling of being special. If men wanted sex in exchange for noticing me I gave it to them.

I knew I wasn’t the type of girl people would call ‘gorgeous’, and casual sex was all I felt I was worth – just that split second of feeling wanted.

After sex, men inevitably showed no interest in wanting a relationship. Most would shy away from giving me their number the next day, and some even woke up with a look of physical disgust on their face, probably without remembering much about the night before.

Even though deep down I felt used and unwanted, I still fell for pretty much all of them. I told myself that I wasn’t fussed about love, that I didn’t want a relationship and was happy living life for me, but really I wanted the happiness I could see in couples around me.

I wanted someone to come home to after a rubbish day, to watch TV with, who would cuddle me and tell me everything would be OK.

Fed up with all my friends disappearing into blissful domesticity, I decided to try online dating – another inevitability.

I was honest when the option was there, saying that I was curvy or larger and always posted full length photos. I was never scared about making the first move either, and I chatted to a lot of people – but conversations would fizzle out.

Dates were few and far between but when they did happen, they followed a similar pattern: great chat, lots of laughter and when I messaged a day or so later, I would never hear from the guy again. It was ghosting before the term was really coined.

One brave man did reply and point blank said that while he’d had a good time, I was larger than he thought and for that reason he wasn’t interested in seeing me again.

I’d always feared it deep down, but he confirmed it: my weight was the reason no one wanted me. To hear it from someone I’d had a nice time with was especially horrible.

All of the insecurities I had about my body that I’d pushed down with alcohol and sex came tumbling out again.

Honesty is so important when you’re deciding who to meet in real life but being open and up-front can also expose you to mean people who are put off before they even get to know you. The dilemma is awful.

I felt like I was constantly having to out myself as ‘the plus-size one’, defining myself by my size and nothing else. At points I hated myself – it was like my body was failing me, stopping me from being happy. I wanted to close myself off from love and sack it all in.

There is no one, true beauty ideal. The average dress size in the UK for a woman is a 16, so most of the slender bodies sold to us as desirable through porn and social media are, in fact, the minority. Yet, it’s drilled into men’s minds that anyone my size is just ‘too big’.

I knew I would make a great girlfriend; I’ve always been a thoughtful person who put others before herself, but I was constantly overlooked.

After some time away from dating I decided to try out one last dating site after a few friends reported some success.

Scrolling through, I came across Luke. He looked really interesting as we had a lot of similar passions like movies, comic books and pop culture. So I crafted an initial message that touched on his love of geek culture.

I hoped he’d reply but tried not to get my hopes up – most of my messages to guys online had been ignored in the past.

Luke replied the same day and I was elated. He said that he appreciated how I’d taken the time to read his (very extensive) profile and that we seemed to have lots in common.

We spent weeks chatting non-stop, something that hadn’t happened to me for a long time, and eventually the conversation turned to meeting up.

Luke had seen all the photos I’d put up (it later transpired that he’d looked me up on social media, too), so I knew nothing about my appearance would come as a surprise to him.

Still, I was incredibly nervous and put off our first date by a week. Although it felt different with Luke, previous experience of being judged made me hold back.

When we did meet up, he drove to my hometown and the moment I saw Luke outside the restaurant I was truly at ease. I didn’t feel like I was acting as someone else or pretending to be who a man wanted me to be – and, for once, I didn’t feel conscious about my size.

Luke wanted to arrange a second date straight away.

On one hand, trying to second guess what was going to go wrong made me feel incredibly vulnerable. On the other, his enthusiasm gave me that little spark of confidence to believe that I was good enough for someone to want to see again.

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We have now been together for over three years. Luke’s my own personal cheerleader and one of the first people to call me ‘gorgeous’ and ‘sexy’. He knows I want to lose weight, but he’s never pressured me or made me feel bad when my rubbish attempts have failed. He has never cared about my size – he has always been interested in all of me.

There’s a lot to be said for someone who simply loves you no matter what. True love comes from being with someone who puts in the effort to really get to know you, not just what’s on the surface.

You know you’re with the right person when they make you feel good about yourself even when you hate what’s staring back at you in the mirror. And in turn, confidence and happiness are far more attractive than a stereotypically beautiful body.

I was lucky to find love but in a world that can’t see past looks, it’s easy to be knocked back and even admit all-out defeat.

There are so many incredible, gorgeous, loving people out there just looking for someone to share their lives with, everyone will miss out if dating doesn’t become more than skin deep.

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As a queer, plus-size woman living in New York City, online dating comes with its own set of challenges. No matter what dating app I’m using—Hinge, Tinder, Bumble, OkCupid—my experience is almost always the same.

Sometimes, I’ll receive an opening message like “Hey fattie” or “Why would anyone want to date you?” Other times, my matches make the assumption that I’m desperate or down to hook up purely based off of my size. But the majority of the time, matches give me the impression that I should feel “grateful” to have been swiped on in the first place.

This happens almost exclusively in my interactions with heterosexual men, and it’s majorly triggering. I had gotten to the point where I’d given up on thinking I could find anything meaningful on the apps at all. But then one night, I randomly stumbled upon a whole list of dating apps specific for plus-size people.

These apps are marketed for people with body types like mine, which is made obvious with what they’re called: Plusr, Curvy Dating, BBW Dating, Chubby, WooPlus, and BBW Plus Singles. Even though this kind of gave me the ick, I thought that perhaps on an app made specifically for plus-size people like me, I could have a more inclusive experience.

I decided to download WooPlus—mainly because it was the least offensive-sounding one. When I logged in, its interface reminded me of a really low-budget Tinder. There was a swiping component and you had to match with people in order to start talking to them. You could also set your preferences to women or men, but not both, so I decided to try out the “men” section.

Because WooPlus doesn’t have the same volume of users as, say, an app like Tinder, the options were extremely limited. My preferences were set to a 50-mile radius around NYC, but I still matched with men from out of state, which was annoying, but whatever.

As I started swiping through the different profiles, I was, well, unimpressed. One guy’s profile said he was “looking for someone with all the curves and is a freak at the drop of a hat.” Another read, “Big girls are just more to love.” One said, “I want my partner to be thick, curvy, cuddly, and warm. And could turn her freak on when called upon.” Not a great start.

After matching with around 20 people, the messages started to come in and I noticed the conversations followed the same familiar pattern. I would ask my matches how their day was or about their profession, and then boom! Things went from zero to creepy in no time at all.

These strangers, who I matched with only moments earlier, asked me about my breast size, requested nudes or videos of myself masturbating, or asked if I was down to meet right away.

When I declined, the harassment started. One user said I should feel “happy” someone is paying attention to me. Another insinuated that I wasn’t grateful for actually matching with someone who wanted to sleep with me.

Clearly, these apps were no better than “normal” dating apps. In fact, WooPlus might have just made it easier for men to find bodies like mine to fetishize in the first place.

I deleted the app from my phone after a week. It was clear that while this app marketed itself as “inclusive,” it enabled men looking to sexualize bigger bodies and prey on the women who inhabited them.

And while I understand that apps like WooPlus are attempting to offer plus-size people more options, I believe they’re actually doing more harm than good. Not only did the app allow users to perpetuate the harmful and offensive stereotype that plus-size women are only desirable for their bodies, but it also made me feel worse about myself—even more so than generic dating apps.

I had come on the app looking for a genuine connection and left feeling like I was doing something wrong because I didn’t want to engage with these men’s sexual advances.

Nowadays, there are dating apps for everything and everyone. Really into BDSM? There’s an app for that. Want to find a threesome? There’s an app for that. And hey, maybe they do succeed in creating a community-based platform filled with like-minded people. But the fact that WooPlus and other plus-size apps emphasize someone’s physique as the selling point—or the basis of a potential relationship—is problematic. Being plus-size on these apps made me a target.

So what can we do? I’m not sure. I don’t know what the solution here is. Maybe for me, it’s to delete all the apps and try to meet people “organically.” Because I’d really rather do that—or anything else, really—than spend more time on a dating app that allows users to assume my value because of the size of my body. It’s just not worth my time.

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