As of now (Feb 2012), “Is Heather Boyle Still Gaining Weight?” is still the #1 most popular blog I have here. That entry was put up well over six months ago, and the staggering number of hits it gets proves that the majority of FAs who claim to participate in the BBW community don’t care for much else beyond getting their rocks off to the thought of their favorite icon getting bigger for their enjoyment. Well, creepers, perhaps you’ll be happy to know that I met up with Heather for dinner earlier this week, and she looked fatter and wider than she did the last time I saw her.
If you’re still reading this, then I’m assuming that you’re not here to jerk off. If that be the case, I’ll continue my story.
Heather and I have known each other for a long, long time. I first spoke with her online when I was 19 years-old. That was back in 1998, and if my math is right, then I’ve known her longer than her own husband, and far longer than anyone who attends her events or models for her sites. There’s no way of knowing a person for that long without some kind of connection, and that connection was built over many late night conversations on AOL Instant Messenger. Back then, I was a wayward FA who was sick of dating women who hated themselves. Heather was radiating with the confidence and charm that I looked for in a woman, and it was clear that she was the person to talk to; picking her brain would help me when it came to meeting girls that could handle the kind of FA that I wanted to be.
Nearly fifteen years later, I maintain that I was right, and that her friendship laid the foundation in creating the FA that most of you know and love or hate. I also maintain that she was a different person when I met her in 2006. By that point, it was certain that her life was her work and her work was her life, and keeping those realms separate just wasn’t possible. These realms didn’t mix well, and I began to resent her for it. Certain people and certain instances contributed heavily to this resentment, and by the time 2008 came to an end, I didn’t want anything to do with her. She never gave up, though. Even though I made it obvious that I didn’t want to be bothered, she and her husband both made an effort to reach out to me every now and again.
This past Monday, we met up for the first time in four years.
Most of the personal issues I have or had with Heather were ironed out over the last several months, thus making it easy to sit with an old friend and not have any awkward moments. Without the distractions of a bash atmosphere, I was able to recognize the person I had known from back when I was a teen. There was no mistaking her, especially after she broke down after telling me (in so many words) how she missed my friendship, and how hurt she was that a friend of 15 years could be so angry with her. There will always be haters when it comes to a public figure like her, but the scorn from a long-time friend is not easily dismissed. After having been betrayed by a number of people I held dear, I understood all too well.
Just like her, I have my own collection of haters stashed away in a closet that I seldom open. Despite four years of avoidance and some bad blood, Heather insisted that she stuck up for me whenever she heard the same tiresome song: that I’m boisterous, that I’m an arrogant asshole, a wanna-be, that I stole Fizzy Lifting Drinks, and that I’m constantly putting on an act. I’ve heard this all before, and it tends to come from the same people who live their lives in their computer chairs when there isn’t a BBW bash to attend. If Heather failed to set the record straight, then allow me…
1) It’s not an act. If I wasn’t loud, over the top, or over the line, then I simply wouldn’t be me. You think it’s an act? Come down and see me the next time I visit my home turf in Long Island.
2) Don’t mistake confidence for arrogance. Unlike the creepers who bring cameras to bashes and hide in the corner, I celebrate my orientation, and prefer to enjoy it with like-minded people. I can talk about it freely in any setting, and if you think that I think that that makes me better than you in any way, then put on your big boy/girl pants and up your game. If you can embrace the bash spirit and let it guide your hand in your day to day life instead of wearing it like a dress for two or three days, then maybe my confidence wouldn’t threaten you as much.
3) If I was ever an asshole to you, then it’s highly likely that you deserved it.
Moving right along, Heather and I healed what needed to be healed: a friendship that existed long before bashes and pay sites dominated the BBW universe. I got to see the person I knew 15 years ago. I suspect that she’ll be back to juggling her business and her personal life when she gets back to MA, thus making the classic Heather less accessible. I’ll always be frustrated over that, but at least it’s comforting to know that the Heather I knew from the 90s hasn’t disappeared completely.

