The Plus-Sized Problem
Plus-sized, mid-sized, chunky, curvy, robust, overweight, fat. All terms used to describe people over a size 10-12. No matter what you call it, being plus-sized is a fact of life for roughly 67% of U.S. women. That’s right, over HALF of the country’s women are considered plus-sized (though there are about a million different ways to categorize them). So, why then are there so few books written about and for them?
As a plus-sized woman myself, this is a question I’m constantly asking. Despite the fact that there are millions of us, we are chronically underrepresented in media, and when we are, it’s a capital “s” Statement. If there is a plus-sized actress in a starring role or a plus-sized female lead in a book, it’s shocking. It’s radical. It’s noteworthy.
Which, can we be real for a sec? It’s ridiculous.
In real life, plenty of plus-sized people are just living their lives. Some are dramatic and intense, others are mundane. Some have had an adventurous life while others haven’t left their home town. The point is — Plus-sized people: they’re just like you.
Which brings me back to the question: Why are there so few stories told about us? When I started reading contemporary romance regularly, it wasn’t something I noticed right away. Throughout my lifetime, I have been conditioned that thin, small, and delicate is the ideal for a female romantic lead. So, inevitably, when those were the women presented in my romance novels, I didn’t bat an eye. At first.
Then, I went down the rabbit hole of “plus-sized” romances (they needed their own category because OBVIOUSLY they couldn’t be grouped into mainstream romances). Not surprisingly, there are very few romances written about plus-size people in comparison to the gazillion written about straight-sized women. And when they are, most of them come with a sort of tagline like “curvy girl romance,” or “plus-sized romance.” Because, you know, they need to come with a warning: HALT, FAT GIRL FINDS LOVE. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.
I can acknowledge that these tags are also there so people like me can find books about people who look like the person they see in the mirror. I get that. It also has to do with SEO words and the like to make the books more visible.
However, I noticed that most of these books have a few things in common. Either the FMC is on a journey of self-acceptance (because she’s fat), already accepts herself loudly (because she can’t just like her body like normal, it has to be a Statement), or has to deal with some really awful people in her life (whose main issue is that she’s gasp, fat).
Or, on the flip side, there are a lot of plus-sized romances that fall in the smut category. In fact, I’d argue that MOST of the plus-sized romances available fit into this category. Which, don’t get me wrong, I love a good smutty romance. But, in some ways having the “plus-sized romance” catalogue dominated by smut is its own sort of problem. In some ways, it feels like the only way a plus-size lead can have her own romance is if it’s in a “taboo” genre. Because being plus-sized is “outside the norm” even though it’s really not. Again, the number of plus-sized women in the US is in the hundreds of millions.
In short, the plus-sized FMC has to cope in some way with her size. Her body is a plot device. An obstacle. A thing to be “gotten over.” Because it can never just be a romance where they fall in love and have a happily ever after AND she just happens to be plus-sized.
Over time, this started to get to me. Why can’t there be a romance where the woman’s size isn’t an additional character? Where her size isn’t something to be overcome, but is just a part of her characterization like the color of her eyes?
Lots of books with plus-size female characters have her deal with: an overly diet-focused parent, a rude past relationship, struggles with weight gain/weight loss, thoughts about how fat she is, thoughts about how everyone ELSE must be thinking of how fat she is, massive insecurity around her body, and characters openly fat-shaming her.
Listen, I’m not saying these struggles don’t happen in real life. I know they do. But just like they don’t happen to every fat person, they don’t need to be in every romance about fat people. It positions her romantic partner as a sort of savior for wanting her in spite of her size. It makes it seem like it’s impossible for a plus-sized person to find love without first having to reckon with what they look like. And that’s a gross narrative. There is nothing inherently wrong with being plus-sized (despite what the media or your mother tells you).
I wanted a romance where a plus-sized woman finds love. And it isn’t shocking. It isn’t a Statement. It just is. On my Instagram, I asked my followers in my stories to share any recommendations of romances with plus-sized leads where the story isn’t ABOUT them being plus-sized. I got one single reply out of the over 1500 people who follow me. And to be honest, even that one centered around the fact that the lead was a plus-sized person.
Cue, Like Home, my debut novel. Summer, our lead character, is a plus-sized woman. Does she deal with some minor insecurities here and there? Yes, because she’s human. We all deal with insecurities whether we’re plus-sized or petite. Does her weight contribute in any way to the plot and how it moves forward? No. Because her being plus-sized isn’t a plot device. It just is.
Summer Evans is the character I wish I could have read about growing up. She is kind, loving, a good mother, an avid reader, courageous, and completely content with her appearance. I intentionally made her journey with finding love and navigating co-parenting not about her size. There is no diet talk, no “he won’t want me because I’m fat,” and no fetishizing her.
Again, I don’t want to come across like I’m bashing any authors who have written characters who struggle with their weight. I think those are important stories too. I just want a little diversity in the way stories about plus-sized women are told. I wanted my book to feel like any romance novel you would pull off the shelf from Barnes and Noble or Target. I wanted it to be romantic and hopeful without the constant barrage of body shaming (internal and external) that seems so prevalent in books about women who aren’t a size two. I wanted other plus-sized women to read my book and see themselves in Summer— a woman who is not defined by her weight but by her character, perseverance, and kindness.
So, if that sounds like something you’ve been missing from your shelf, stay tuned. Like Home will be in your hands before you know it.
-Megan
