I love getting emails from you and I’ve been noticing that there are a few questions that I get asked all the time. So I thought I’d start a FAQ segment in case there were other Plus Size Princesses that had similar questions. Ready? Lets begin!

Hi CeCe,

I’m visiting the New York/New Jersey area and wanted to check out some BBW clubs or lounges where I won’t be judged! Do you have any tips?

In my experience there are two BBW parties in New York City that happen regularly: Goddesses and Bigger and Better Thangs (BBT).

Goddesses

Goddesses was the first BBW party I ever attended. When I first started blogging about the BBW Scene I called it DIVAS for some reason- I guess to protect the innocent? Anyway, I’ve had some good and bad nights there, I’ve met some hot guys and some trolls, I’ve been there when it was packed and I’ve been there when it was a whole bunch of PSP’s fighting for the attention for 2 or 3 guys. You can’t predict the Goddess party, which is one of the reasons I stopped going (if I’m going to pay a $20 cover, the party needs to be awesome).

Sometimes Goddesses reminds me of a a bad cruise. The party is very “organized” with contests, themes and a DJ who plays outdated songs. The first time I went to Goddesses they had a “thong” contest where girls pulled down their jeans and shook their butts for the judges and the drooling men who were huddled against the wall.

The guys there can be a little corny. Some of them do choreographed dances (its like a bad Usher video). But some of the guys are super sweet. Again, you never know what you’re going to get when you go there.

The good thing about Goddesses is that its every Saturday night, so its a guaranteed place to go not matter when you’re in NYC.

http://www.goddessbbw.com/

Bigger and Better Thangs (BBT)

Bigger and Better Thangs (yes, Thangs) is a BBW party that happens twice a month at club Remix. In my opinion, this is the better party. The DJ is always ROCKIN’ with current songs and they usually have two rooms, one with mainstream music and another with reggae/dancehall music.

The BBT crowd is predominantly African-American, but I’ve seen all types of people there having an awesome time. I would choose BBT over Goddesses mostly because it feels like a “normal” club. There are drink specials, two awesome DJ’s and everyone dances all night, this makes paying $20 worth it.

There is a more blatant sexual energy at the BBT parties, (I was at a BBT party when I was approached by swingers) but again, its a good party no matter what.

http://www.biggerandbetterthangs.com/

No matter which party you decide to attend, keep your expectations low. As I wrote a few weeks back, finding love in the club isn’t a realistic goal. But having a good time in a place where you feel comfortable is an awesome thing!

xoxo,

CeCe

CeCe@thebiggirlblog.com

I think it was Rosanne Barr who said “If it weren’t for gay men, fat chicks would never have anyone to dance with”. To a certain extent, I agree… I can remember a few awkward moments on New York City dance floors when a random “gay in shinning armor” would come to my rescue and dance with me, saving me from the sadness of feeling invisible.

I feel like there is an unspoken bond between gay men and PSP’s (Plus Size Princesses). Its a natural pairing of two groups who are often on the outside looking in. As a PSP it can also provide regular male companionship (and a stand-by date, if needed). I love my gay male friends, they are all so different some are very professional, some are more creative and they all bring different things to my life… but as a PSP there is one type of gay man that I have to warn you about:

The gay man who thinks he’s straight.

Call it what you will “Closet Case”, “Suspect” or “Down Low” it is my observation that, these men often date big women. Its almost as if the gay man inside of them recognizes the connection they could have with a PSP, but somewhere things get confused and suddenly they are seeing her romantically even though they are sexually attracted to men.

I’ve had it explained to me that a woman with lower self esteem (as PSP’s often have) may excuse or ignore the signs that the man in her life might be gay.

I see how this can be easy to do, if you take a woman who often gets little to no attention from men, and suddenly a man (perhaps a well dressed, attractive, polite, put together man) is interested in her. This man knows how to make her feel special and isn’t afraid to tell her how important she is. Her choice then becomes: ignore how quickly he pulls up the online bingo tab to cover up the Britney Spears video, and all the other signs that put his sexuality in question, or face them and risk being alone… again.

I don’t want to be that girl, and so far I’ve dodged the bullet (Remember James?).

I found out recently that this is something I’ve been dodging since high school. When I was a Sophomore, John Tomsonni, who was like, “The Senior” told Andrew, my Best Friend (who at the time wasn’t out of the closet) that he wanted to take me to the winter formal. I could not believe that of all the girls he could choose from, he wanted to take me. Unfortunately I was 15 and my parents would not let me go on dates until I was 16. He went off to college that year and I always had hopes of rekindling what could have been. I sort of lost track of John, but found out recently that he’s living in Colorado with his longtime boyfriend.

I even have my doubts about Jeremy! I didn’t want to bring it up, but I sent my sister a link to his facebook page the other day. She called me a few hours later and the first question she asked me was “do you think he might be….”

“OH EM GEE… YES!” I screamed, “What made you ask?”

“I dunno… some of his photos” she replied. “there’s nothing wrong with them, but…”

I threw myself face first into my pillow to muffle the screams coming out of my mouth because I knew what she meant. I had spent a good amount of time studying his photos and there was just something about them; and my sister saw it too (who knew gaydar was genetic?).

Now, good gaydar doesn’t go off because a man is wearing a pink sequin shirt, it goes off on an x-factor, something you often can’t pinpoint. Its the kind of thing where even if a guy is wearing a football jersey, chugging beer and screaming at the TV set, you can still pick up that he’s Suspect. You just see something in him that makes you question.

But not all men are like that! Most men are just point blank, no questions asked, heterosexual males. So, why is it that every potential guy I come across has me with my head cocked to the side like Scooby Doo?!?!

The really frustrating part is that I think my friends are so eager to see me with someone that they compromise and don’t tell me what they really think. I introduced James to a few people and all of them kept beating around the bush. Even Andrew, who I trust, routinely avoided telling me that he thought James was a closet case. It took someone brazen like Dean to speak the truth and instruct me to move on. Of course, once Dean said “he’s gay” everyone chimed in to back him up, but if he hadn’t spoken up and I was just the tiniest bit desperate… then what?

I’ve seen this happen routinely to other big women out there and I refuse to fall into the trap… I refuse to have people sitting at my wedding wondering “is she blind?” or wondering “with all the gay friends that girl has… why didn’t someone didn’t say something”….

At the end of the day I can’t control the fact that gay men are attracted to me, I guess I just have to make sure I don’t start becoming attracted to them.

There are a two main reasons why I would never make the “first move”:

1.) I feel like if a guy is interested in a girl he will let her know.

2.) I feel like guys are never interested in big girls.

Of course if #1 never happens, to me it just proves #2 to be true.

So when all signs pointed to Jeremy being interested in me, I just could not wrap my head around it. I met Jeremy through a friend, he and I know a lot of the same people and from the moment we met, it was a flirt-fest. Because we run in similar circles, we ended up spending a lot of time together. I’d say we went from being “friendly” to “friends” rather quickly. We call, email and text, and when we’re together there’s a lot of unnecessary hugging, random hand holding and uncontrollable giggling (the giggling-um, that would be me).

A few weeks ago we were curled up together on a friends couch watching movies and out of the blue, he kissed me on the forehead… I’m not sure about anyone else, but that’s kind of an intimate thing to do and it really threw me off. I was confused, so I decided it was time to run the situation by a few friends. They all came to the same conclusion:

He likes you.

But I still wasn’t convinced! My friend Keisha was confused to the point of frustration when I continued to deny his interest in me and Andrew called my assumption that he wasn’t interested “weird”. But neither of them had a clue what its like to be a PSP (Plus Size Princess), so I didn’t even bother to explain to them why, even though all signs pointed to yes, I still couldn’t see it.

Of course with Dana, who is also a PSP, it was different. After listening to me, she was able to put my insecurities into words.

“Forgive me for projecting myself on to you,” she began. “But for me being a ‘bbw’… gosh I hate using that term! Anyway, being… um, plus size… I always assume men wont be interested in me. I assume men don’t like big women and unless I am in a setting like DIVAS or REWIND that caters to women like me… I’m like a fish outta water with men.”

Wow, she was totally right, that’s how I felt….

About a week later, Dana called me. “So I was looking at your Facebook page,” she said. “And I saw a cute photo of you and Jeremy… I clicked on his name and was looking at his Facebook page. What’s the deal with him being in a BBW group?”

“Huh?”

“Like, he’s a member of a group for BBW’s around the world!”

I immediately went to his Facebook page… sure enough, there was a list of the online groups he was a part of. Nestled in between groups for Kanye West fans, Martial Arts enthusiasts and a million other things was a group called “BBW’s and BHM’S Worldwide”. Jeremy wasn’t a BBW or a BHM (which according to google means: Big Handsome Male). As I scrolled through the membership, it seemed to be mostly BBW’s and the smaller men who were into them.

Why was he a part of this group? What did this mean? What should I do? My head was spinning…. I didn’t even know if I wanted anything to happen with Jeremy. I wasn’t sure if I liked him, or if I just liked the attention he gave me. At the end of the day it was pretty clear that I probably hadn’t been imagining things… there was an attraction there.

But that opened up the question of why he hadn’t made any efforts to take things beyond flirting. I mean, even if rule #2 wasn’t applicable in this case because Jeremy did like bigger girls, rule #1 was still in effect, if Jeremy liked me he should have made a move by now, right? Why wouldn’t he? I mean, we like being around each other and we have chemistry….

I started to wonder if I should just lump him in with the majority of the men I see in the BBW scene. The men who have a fetish for bigger girls but would never consider actually being in a relationship with one.

I hope that isn’t the case with Jeremy… but only time will tell.

It was Saturday afternoon and Paige was calling me, that could only mean one thing… she wanted to go to DIVAS. I didn’t have plans so we decided to meet up around 10:30pm and head downtown… I had lost 20 pounds and Paige spent the whole train ride talking about it. “Oh my God, what am I gonna do when you’re all skinny?”, “You’re going to be small and leave me at DIVAS all alone!”, “All the guys are going to be all over you tonight!”

When we arrived, the place was packed and Paige and I had to push through a sea of soft bodies just to get to the dance floor. Through the crowd I noticed a guy with a newsboy cap on. He was very attractive and tall, and looking in our direction. I leaned over to Paige, “That guy is so cute!” I yelled over the music. At that moment another guy grabbed me to dance. As I danced with him I watched Paige turn on her heel and walk over to “newsboy cap”. She whispered something into his ear, turned and pointed to me, he glanced up, saw me and whispered back to her. Then she took his hand and they began to dance.

The night continued like this, Paige and I dancing with different guys, people buying us drinks etc. During a song I didn’t particularly like, I took a seat on one of the couches surrounding the dance floor. I felt someone standing over me, it was the “newsboy”.

“Mind if I sit down?” he asked

“Sure,” I replied, scooting over. Newsboy was from Brooklyn and he worked as a manager for the Marriott in Times Square. After chatting for a while, he motioned for me to come closer.

“I have a confession,” he whispered. “Earlier your friend asked me which one of you was cuter… I didn’t want to be rude, so I told her that you were both beautiful girls, but I really wanted to say- you.”

“Um, thanks” I said. I could feel my face getting hot, not because of his compliment, but because Paige would even ask such a question… I was not in competition with her and pitting us against each other wasn’t cool… it was awkward.

Suddenly the DJ switched songs and Newsboy jumped up “This is my joint, right here!” he said taking my hand. He rocked and grooved to “Buddy” by Musiq. I liked the beat of the song but didn’t agree with the lyrics that spoke of a guy looking for a casual sex partner (aka a “Buddy”).

For the rest of the night Newsboy and I were inseparable. When he offered to drive Paige and me uptown so we wouldn’t have to take the subway late at night we agreed. Paige lives in the Bronx and I live in Manhattan, so we drove her as far as we could and she took a cab the rest of the way.

As Newsboy drove me home that “Buddy” song came on the radio. He reached over and turned the music up singing “It would be fly… if you were my B-U-D-D-Y…”

As we neared my apartment, Newsboy asked if he could come up. I said no. He pulled into an open parking space across the street from my building. “Lets just sit here and talk then” he said. He unbuckled my seat belt and put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me towards him. He asked questions like “Did you have fun tonight?” and “You know I’m really feeling you, right?” I sat there rigid, with my head on his shoulder wanting to believe what he was saying. As he played with the ends of my hair, he began to tell me how glad he was to have met me and how I sexy I was.

“You should let me come up,” he whispered. “I promise you wont regret it.”

I reached under my seat to retrieve my purse so I could get out of the car. I wasn’t exactly surprised that a guy who is obsessed with a song about having a “sex buddy” was acting this way. But I was frustrated because newsboy was so cute! He was making me wish for a moment that I was the type of girl who could have a guy up for a no strings attached night… but I wasn’t that girl.

“Goodnight.” I said as I went to open the door.

“Hey” he said.

I turned around and he gave me a big smile. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. I leaned in to give him a hug and when I pulled away, he kissed me. Everything in me said to get out of the car, but I didn’t move. I let him kiss me again and before I knew it I was kissing him back. Maybe I can do this… I thought. I closed my eyes and let his lips travel down my neck. Maybe this isn’t so bad…

“Lemme show you what I’m workin‘ with” he murmured into my hair.

I was lost in my own thoughts when I heard a “ziiiip” I opened my eyes and saw that Newsboy was proudly showing me his…um… “newsboy”. The sight of it jolted me back to reality.

Very few of the guys that go to DIVAS are looking for anything more than one night, so what is the point of the gorgeous plus size princesses who go to DIVAS pitting themselves up against each other? So, Newsboy liked me and not Paige- that didn’t mean I’d have a chance at a relationship, a date or even a connection… the only thing that insured was that he was going to try and have sex with me and that’s not worth any competition.

I grabbed my purse and jumped out of the car. “Have a good night okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll call you later.”

It wasn’t until my elevator doors closed behind me that I realized he didn’t even have my phone number.