This man was an FA - a “fat admirer,” a man who likes fat women - and this was the beginning of my second attempt to date within the FA community. He was desperate for details: Was it hairy? Was it round? Saggy? Did it have stretch marks? Lots of them? Did it hang over my waistband? Why didn’t I want to show him what it looked like? Just one photo? Please? ![]() ![]() ![]() A few miles away from my tiny storage-closet-turned-bedroom, the financial analyst in Westchester was begging me for photos of my belly.
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