**I don’t’ agree with all of this (from Thought Catalog),, but some of it struck a chord**
I am firmly convinced that former fat girls are among the best people in the world. A reformed cherub with a heart of gold and almond milk running through her veins, a former fat girl has developed the monkish asceticism necessary to subvert her metabolical shortcomings. Intellect, humor, and kindness are the vestigial sexual organ of the former fat girl that remain even as girth shrinks. Heretofore referred to as the FFG, this is my emphatic declaration of the wholesale superiority and date-ability of the Former Fat Girl.
Mar. 9, 2012 By Amanda M. Duberman 
First and foremost, the former fat girl does not rely on positive reinforcement based on superficiality, because she never could. Forced to develop a personality absent the praise afforded our more lithe adolescent peers, the former fat girl is often a blissful conflation of both Megan Fox and Melissa McCarthy. Armed with a compulsory stellar personality and arsenals of artificial sweeteners, the FFG’s intellect and wit are relatively inelastic to shrinking mass. The FFG had considerably more social downtime to dedicate to academia than her more buoyant, extracurricularly occupied peers. As such, GPA often corresponds proportionally with BMI, and having spent time in the upper range the FFG likely occupies the upper tax bracket. Say hello to your sugar (re:splenda) mama.
While the lifetime skinny girl is difficult to impress, former fat girls are reliably receptive to any complement that faintly implies thinness or delicacy. Verbal adoration of her cheek bones, or even better, knobby knees, guarantees a sprint to second base. Carelessly lift her off her feet mid-dance or hug and she’s yours for life. Forgive me Ms. Steinem, but the former fat girl is often more tolerant of anti-feminist relationship pitfalls, and holds fast to her inaugural post-chub beau like she does to the last non-fat Greek yogurt at Dean and Deluca.
Furthermore, the FFG is unimpeachably groomed. After all, prior to joining the ranks of the modestly nourished, enhancing our non-caloric dependent traits was all we could do to illicit masculine response. We can be counted on for fantastic hair, expertly applied make-up after years feigning facial definition, and strategic scarf and waist belt placement.
Less existentially, the former fat girl tends to be easy on the wallet. Lightly dressed greens are considerably less expensive than the filet mignon an endocrinology gifted waif may elect for. March Madness can be thoroughly enjoyed without a pestering spouse given the month’s threatening proximity to bathing suit season. Fundamentally a glutton, the former fat girl may indulge her reformed hedonism (or, I daresay, oral fixation) more illicitly with you as the prime beneficiary. Our thighs, once best friends but now estranged, might just open generously after an average five-year delay of virginity loss.
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