I went to a book event in Boston not long ago, an event I'd been looking forward to for months because I love Boston just as much as I love going to book events. Just know that I'm not going to name the venue in question to avoid any trouble; I'm angry, but I'm not that angry.

This was a big author, so the venue knew that they had to be ready to seat plenty of people. That being said, the ground level seats were positioned facing small round tables, three tables and eight chairs to a row. They'd obviously fit in as many tables and chairs as they could to each section.

As a big girl, when you approach a space, you know whether or not it's going to be a tight fit. I immediately knew that it was going to be a tight fit, but the furthest back we could push back each chair before it hit another was maybe two inches. The rest of the people in our section who had already gotten there stood up to let us through to our seats on the inside, and the friend I was with let me in first. I scooted in sideways, feeling my thighs rubbing against both the table and the chairs as I passed.

Definitely a tight fit.

When I sat down across from a woman and her daughter in my section, the table met my stomach and lifted off the ground, titled under me. The daughter almost laughed. The mother looked just as terrified as I must have. Tears filled my eyes and I struggled to push the chair back or the table down.

The mother, a saint if I've ever met one, had her daughter and I stand. We pushed the chairs back and she held the table down as I sat down.

It was a tight fit, but I fit.

I wish I could say that it got better from there. That embarrassment triggered my anxiety because I was too fat, because I was a disgusting disgrace, because I never should have expected to have good seats at an event and be comfortable. I barely spoke the whole half hour we had between sitting down and the start of the event. I felt so sick with myself. I felt like I was going to cry. I felt like I never should have come.

Since I was against the railing that separated the two sections, it didn't help me feel any better when waitresses and the like were bumping into me and tripping over me despite having made myself as small as I could.

I felt so disgusting.

Events of any sort need to be accessible. I know that I'm not as much of a priority as someone with a disability, but I am still a paying customer who came to this event to have a good time. I shouldn't leave full of hatred for myself and anxiety.

I should be able to enjoy the event just as much as a thin person.