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Fatso, Big Head and Other Names My Parents Called Me
It was a miracle I didn’t have body image issues growing up
I’ve called my son “Big Head” twice in public. The first time was at his pediatrician’s office while he was being examined. His pediatrician looked at me horrified. I was outwardly embarrassed, but slightly amused internally. The second time was with a friend and her child, and she had the same reaction as the pediatrician.
Both times I said “Big Head” affectionately. It’s a term of endearment used in my family and, to us, has the same connotation as dear or honey. My parents called my siblings and me, and now, their grandchildren, “Big Head.” I refer to my nieces and nephew as “Big Head.” My family says the name so often and so generically that one day when I asked, “Where’s Big Head?” my sister replied, “Which one?” in reference to her kids.
We both chuckled.
No one has an abnormally large head, nor does anyone remember who crowned the moniker, but it has become generationally accepted. Other names, however, were hurtful.
As a child, I was cherubic. Chunky. Rotund. It didn’t help that my eldest brother and sister were as thin as rails despite eating the same foods– often in larger quantities. At our staunch, predominantly White Catholic school, the popular girls in my class were slim. By sixth grade, I don’t recall them eating very much, yet I ate all the food on my lunch tray and usually wanted seconds, especially when chicken sandwiches, rectangular pizza, and chocolate milk were the items du jour.
I once received a final grade of a B or B+ in physical education. My Nigerian dad was furious, saying he didn’t pay tuition for me to be a B student. The irony was that most, if not all of my other grades were As yet he focused on that B. I was a fat kid in gym so, to me, a B grade was an accomplishment.
Throughout my childhood, my dad called me Fatso Blow, which he’d abbreviate to Fatso. He used this pet name often, which made him chuckle at his ingenuity. I don’t recall being offended, at least not regularly. I have a sliver of a memory suggesting I was miffed, but may have normalized it to reduce the sting. Repetition dulled the sharpness of the offense and I embedded it in the…
