Confessions of a Gay Overeater: 'Self-deprecating humour became my armour'

“Je Suis Fatty Gay..”Je Suis Fatty Gay is an anonymous contributor who, every month in Attitude, takes us on a very personal journey that began in the closet – and the fridge. You can read his last column online here – this is the fourth instalment…

At secondary school, not only did I receive the accolade of being the ‘Fattest Kid in School’, but I was also known as the loudest and one of the most badly behaved too. To protect the shy, sensitive
and wounded child within me, I transformed into the exact opposite; a seemingly arrogant, attention seeking, loud mouth comedian, quick to rebuff jibes by taking the piss out of others and myself. Of course, I was hiding behind my fat, all sixteen stone of it.

Like Dawn French, Heather off EastEnders and other famous fatties, I revelled in my larger than life persona, using self-deprecating humour as my armour. With the help of my new alter-ego, I became the life and soul of the party. I did impressions; told jokes; sang songs and acted out scenes from films. I became addicted to attention. Yes, they continued to rip into me for having boy-tits and not being able to climb out of the swimming pool. And once a year, I still had the whole school jeering at me as I finished last in crosscountry, but I laughed along with them. I was still called a ‘fat queer’, but it was now on my terms.

The more I over-indulged on attention and food, the more my schoolwork suffered. I was finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate in class as my brain fought to keep up with the erratic highs and lows of my mood. I was repeatedly moved away from other kids for being distracting to them, and often found myself in detention. I attended a fiercely competitive all-boys school, where you were either an academic or a sportsman or both. If, like me, you weren’t either, you ended up in the drama department. Drama was the one place I felt I belonged. Taking to the stage in school plays meant I could bask in the spotlight, soaking up the applause of class mates, parents and teachers. I played a chorus girl in Cinderella and a dying mother in a Greek tragedy, but I knew I’d really arrived when I won an award at a prize giving for my role as Frau Gretel, the German inn-keeper’s wife, in The Dracula Spectacular Show – a sort of junior version of Rocky Horror. When they called me on stage to collect my award, I was no longer in my dreary school hall; I was at the Oscars winning Best Actor in front of Hollywood A-Listers. I tried to make a speech to thank my nearest and dearest, but was shooed off by my English teacher.

Treading the boards, I came into contact with other gay boys. While none of us were actually out to each other, we all shared a love for pop music, trashy films and musical theatre. Ironically, being gay was the only thing we didn’t really talk about. Individually, we still got bullied, but together we were a force to be reckoned with, so by sixth form we were pretty much left alone. They were my first real friends, and with them I learnt there was strength in numbers. Jack had his sights set on a glittering career in the West End as the new Michael Ball. Craig was going to be one of Kylie’s backing dancers. Tommy was going to be a pop star, duetting with Madonna and Barbra Streisand. He had his first few albums already mapped out. As for me? I was going to be on TV, perhaps as Blue Peter’s first openly fat presenter.

Somehow I managed to scrape through my exams, and as we prepared to leave school, Jack got a place in drama school and Craig began auditioning for dance troupes. Not long after, we kind of drifted apart. Our paths would cross again, but for now we preferred to do our own thing.

Tommy and I had become close, most of our school presumed we were boyfriends, but we never actually were. When I finally came out at 16, I turned up to a local gay youth group and wasn’t that surprised to find Tommy there. That cemented our friendship, and soon we saw ourselves as each other’s Thelma and Louise. Now, officially out to each other and part of the youth group, we stood on the threshold of a new grown up world of gay bars and meeting gay men. This terrified me more than anything, so I continued to binge eat, eventually hitting eighteen stone. I’d worked so hard to find acceptance at school being Fatty Gay, but how would the gay scene and other gay men take to me?

I was about to find out.

Share your own story with us as jesuisfattygay@attitude.co.uk.

You can read the latest instalment of ‘Je Suis Fatty Gay’ in the current issue of Attitude – available in shops now, to order in print from newsstand.co.uk and digitally from attitudedigital.co.uk.

GUS 150

Confessions of a Gay Overeater: ‘Self-deprecating humour became my armour’

In This Article: