It’s funny how the same girls who made me want to eat seven almonds a day in high school are now screaming “Truth Hurts” at the club. And while I’m happy for their growth, to them and others I have to say: I just took a DNA test, turns out I’m 100% convinced that Lizzo would not be your friend. Sry.
Lizzo has many friends. For example, Megan the Stallion, who occasionally twerks to Lizzo’s flute accompaniment. If you have ever made me feel bad about having a second slice of pizza at the office, you’re not one of them. If the phrase “intermittent fasting” has come out of your mouth in the past week, you are not one of them either. And if you recently contributed to an article about how Brandy Melville’s clothing is “cute”–despite being the fact that they employ anorexic waifs who could take the SAT for each other without being caught–it is safe to say that you are currently not, and will never be, Lizzo’s friend.
This announcement does not bring me any joy, and I’m sorry to be the one to make it. But there are probably other friends out there for you, like Louis C.K., or anyone who wears Lululemon leggings as a fashion statement.
As the personal manager of Lizzo’s goodwill, I’d like to draw attention to the fact that there are not only individuals but whole companies that are trying to be Lizzo’s friend. Why else would they refuse to hire people who are black or fat or at that intersection, and yet feature Lizzo on a cover? Why else would they flung out Lizzo Instagram stories with the desperation of desert vultures in the past couple of weeks, while refusing to practice what they preach on the daily? They could be jumping on fake-woke bandwagon. They could be attempting to use Lizzo’s name to distract from their general exclusivity. Or–and this is far more likely–they crave Lizzo’s personal attention. Her fluffy arms, enveloping them into a hug when Mike “wants to open the relationship.” Her presence beside them on the couch, while they cry to her about Mike.
This will not happen.
And so, to these companies, I would like to get this out there: you do NOT have a chance of befriending Lizzo. I highly doubt that Lizzo would ever meet you for a morning covefe, much less for an hour-long vinyasa yoga session. If you ask me, I don’t think Lizzo would even hold your hair back while you throw up. She might, however, jerk your entire head into the toilet bowl.
You may be wondering if I’ve ever talked to Lizzo. And the answer is no. However, I have it on good authority that Lizzo would specifically reject your attempts at friendship. In fact, she would rather choke on the 85-carat diamond necklace she wore to the 2019 VMA’s. If she ever sat on you in one of her
I’m not here to point fingers, or be snarky, or to make you feel bad about yourself. I’m just here to announce that if you have engaged in the hypocritical behaviors I talked about earlier, you specifically are an asshole and I’m pretty fucking sure that Lizzo probably wouldn’t even friend you back on Facebook. She wouldn’t even delete your friend request–she would probably just leave you hanging for years and years, until Facebook ceases to be profitable and shuts down, pumping the data they have mined for years into another, sexier platform. On which she would continue to ignore your attempts to reach out. The last polar ice cap will melt before Lizzo gives you any attention: personally, virtually, or in whatever other dimension emerges in the next centenium.
To all the fat-shamers who are obsessed with being obsessed with Lizzo for clout, I am here to announce that you most definitely do not have the juice. Of all the friends that will cross your path in your lifetime, Lizzo will not be one of them. Neither will I.
Romaissaa Benzizoune is from New York City and from-from Morocco. Her writing has appeared in outlets including Buzzfeed, McSweeney’s, and The New York Times.