When I joined Tinder this summer, more guys approached me in the first week than had approached me my whole life. Dating has never been easy for me, and now add to that the fact that I’m 31 years old — I’m not going out like I used to in my 20s, so there are even fewer opportunities to meet people.
It’s supposed to rain anyway so no guilt.” Him: “Come join me.” Me: “Lol yeah I’m kind of out and about today.” Him: “Boo.” Him: “I’m sooo hard right now.” Him: :( At first I tried to think if I was maybe sending the wrong message with my profile photos. I mean, you want to put your best foot forward, so they’re shots of me when I was dressed up — like when I’m at my friend’s wedding, in a blue Vera Wang bridesmaid dress with sheer straps and a small V-neck that showed a little cleavage. I work in fashion and I’ve had the benefit of some of the best stylists in the industry teaching me what does and doesn’t work for my shape — a turtleneck widens me; a pencil skirt slims me. Probably a month or so in, I started to realize why these guys were so obsessed with talking about my body and so categorically un-interested in any other kind of conversation: They had a big-girl fetish.
A big girl working at, say, a law firm may be more inclined to wear all non-fitted clothing, which only makes you look bigger, but she doesn’t have colleagues like mine to tell her that upfront. They weren’t interested in getting to know me; they just wanted to have sex with a fat girl.
I had never thought of myself as someone with a so-called fetish body, which sounds kind of naïve now that I say it, because I’ve looked like this pretty much my whole life.
I’m 5’2", my bra size is 36J — yes, there are bras that go all the way to J — my pants are around a 14.
People have said I remind them of Kat Dennings; I’m bigger than her but we have the same kind of pale complexion and big brown eyes and long eyelashes, and I’m like her in the way that I’m not afraid to show cleavage.
I don’t know how to define “fetish body,” exactly, but I think — because of the size of my boobs and the fact that I have a waist and the fact that I accentuate those things — certain guys, a lot more guys than I thought, are turned on by the novelty of it.Thinking about it now, I’m sure I’ve been hit on in the past by people who deep down had that kind of fetish; they just weren’t being so blatant about it like these Tinder guys, who can hide behind their phones.Sure, they may have encountered the occasional creepster, but those certainly weren’t the majority of the people contacting them like they were me.I even looked through one of my friend’s Tinder accounts; none of the messages were as vulgar as mine.For me, it wasn’t necessarily what these guys were saying but how quickly they were saying it.It wasn’t like I’d been messaging them for weeks or days or even 20 minutes — it was literally the first conversation: Him: “I don’t want to get out of bed.” Me: “You don’t have to! She saw my Tinder pictures and said they were “very dramatic” — she’s learned to use euphemisms like that when she’s talking about the way I look — but that’s just my mother.