“You came back!”
That was the greeting the fitness instructor from last night’s workout class gave me grabbing my shoulders. I like *Jason. His class was the first I took when I tried out a new dance studio around the corner from my office. And I must confess I’m always happy when there’s another Black person in a class full of thin white girls who workout just for fun (and not to shed pounds like myself), especially when the DJ plays “Formation” and we’re the only ones in the room with negro noses, but that’s another topic altogether.
“Who do you look like?” Jason asked after his warm greeting.
“Huh?”
“Who do people tell you you look like?”
My eyes were already rolling in my sarcastic mind as I braced for what I was sure was to come.
“Jill Scott?” I asked more than answered before adding,”Although I think people just say that because we’re both light-skinned and bi-”
“No, not Jill Scott,” he interrupted. “Somebody else. Ugh it’s right on the tip of my tongue… A girl from a movie…with Halle Berry. ‘B.A.P.S!’ That’s who it is, you look like Halle Berry’s friend in ‘B.A.P.S.!’
“Ohhhh…”
I was officially out of formation.
I didn’t even stay for the cool down stretch following the 55-minute dance class because I couldn’t wait to text my co-worker and two other friends about his comment:
“This negro just told me I look like Halle Berry’s friend in ‘B.A.P.S.'”
The responses poured in:
“Oh nooooooo he didn’t.”
“Punch him in the mouth. I got bail money.”
“Did you light him up or nah?”
I wanted to answer yes to that last question, but I couldn’t. I told my friend I responded with awkward laughter because my feelings were hurt and I couldn’t really do anything about his perception. Different day, same old Octavia Spencer-Sherri-Shepherd-Yvette Nicole Brown big girl B.S.: We all look alike.
In my feelings, I tweeted about the incident, to which one male follower responded:
“Don’t be like that. Minus the extravagant hair and all that patent leather, she was beautiful.”
And I agreed. If I actually looked Natalie Desselle-Reid, there’d be no beef. But I don’t — I don’t look like Jill Scott either but I’ve heard it so many times I just assumed that’s where ol’ boy was going with his line of questioning. In saying I look like “Mickey,” my fitness instructor just confirmed that when he looks at me he doesn’t really see me. He just sees a big girl, another big girl like all the rest.
Despite being above average in size, many full-figured women feel invisible in a world that only recognizes thin as beautiful and mainly takes note of outliers for the purpose of poking fun. I don’t believe my instructor was doing the latter, but I do think he unveiled his subconscious bias in likening me to the actress. I mean c’mon bruh, you’re Black. We don’t make outlandish comparisons like this — except for that other time a Black dude told a friend I reminded him of Grey’s Anatomy’s Chandra Wilson. See the point I’m making here? If not, here’s a visual.
FYI, I’m the one top left in case you’re confused.
Now I’ll admit there was a minute where I thought, is it the lashes? I was just treated to a set of fake cluster lashes — the kind that last for two weeks and can have you looking like a contestant on “RuPaul’s Drag Race” if you’re not careful — but as I’ve pointed out, this isn’t my first “you look like somebody you absolutely look nothing like” rodeo and the one constant in every single one of those comparisons is always our sizes. And before you say “If he told you you look like Beyonce you’d be flattered,” let me assure you I wouldn’t because I know that’s B.S. as well. And now I have to question your motive for making another equally outlandish comparison.
Of course there are worse things I could be likened to — and likely have been — than a woman from a ’90s comedy, but I can’t deny the sting I feel when people confirm that they don’t see me as anything more than a number, a large one, on a scale. I want people to get past the size of my stomach to see the shape of my eyes; to see a lovingly unique smile, not just love handles; to know round faces and round bodies do not equal “twinsies!” That’s really not too much to ask, but in this weight-obsessed society we live in I’m sure it’s a request that’s unlikely to be accommodated.
