Putting a disclaimer about my size on my dating profile is mandatory. I make sure to include that I am on a fitness journey; not because I want to, but because it feels like I have to. It’s as if my worth or attractiveness is based on actively “fixing” myself. The friends I surround myself with, who are not plus-size, don’t feel the need to issue any disclaimers about themselves. I need to say, “Just letting you know, I am a bigger girl,” almost like I am warning someone and trying to avoid the crushing fear of disappointing them if we finally meet.

It’s not just about avoiding disappointment; it’s also about preserving my own dignity. I’ve internalized this idea that being fat might make someone feel deceived, even though I know logically that my body has nothing to apologize for.

The weight of these insecurities is more significant than in dating apps. I have noticed that I constantly overcompensate to make up for my weight. I pour myself into giving more emotionally than I should. Why? It’s because it’s the only way to earn someone’s love and affection.

I’ve caught myself thinking that if something as traumatic as sexual assault were to happen to me, no one would believe me. All I think about is people dismissing it by thinking, “Who would want to do something like that to someone like her? She’s probably just looking for attention.” This belief runs so deep that I’ve normalized things I shouldn’t.

In relationships, I’ve tolerated behavior I wouldn’t want for anyone else. I’ve stayed in situations where I was treated poorly because I thought this was just how it is for someone like me. I’ve ignored red flags, overlooked manipulation, and brushed off my own discomfort all because I believed I had to. If someone wanted to use me emotionally, for physical intimacy, or to just boost their own ego, I thought that it was the only way to get close to someone. I figured if I couldn’t be desirable in the eyes of society, I had to offer something else, even at the expense of my respect.

One of the most complex parts of my dating experience is that I never really know how others perceive me. I often assume that the first thing they notice about me is my size. Does my personality even matter, or am I just the fat girl?

When a relationship ends, it’s hard not to spiral into self-blame. My insecurities are confirmed when I learn that they’ve moved on to someone thinner. I’ll ignore every other reason why our relationship ended and only fixate on my size as the reason why I wasn’t good enough.

When I talk about these experiences, it’s not to throw myself a pity party or to make it seem like only plus-size women face challenges in dating. Everyone struggles with insecurities about their body, personality, or something else entirely. All I’m really trying to do is shed light on the extra layer of anxiety that comes with dating while plus-size. It’s not just about navigating first-date nerves; it’s preparing for potential rejection solely based on how you look.

I don’t know how to stop apologizing for my body or let go of the fear of rejection. Although dating a plus-size woman is filled with moments of self-doubt, overthinking, and sometimes heartbreak, it’s also filled with growth, resilience, and hope that one day I’ll meet someone—no disclaimers required.