25 THINGS FAT PEOPLE SHOULDN'T DO

You don't have to look very hard to find vicious things on the internet.

I was researching a cheeky concept for this blog post series when I stumbled upon mountains and mountains of posts by asshats giving their hateful opinion on what fat people should not be allowed to do. This somehow resulted in me, the self love queen, spending the better part of the morning crying in the bathroom at work, texting my boyfriend that he deserved better, and silently apologizing to every person that I was fat through my eyes. I was deeply ashamed on such a profound level that it kind of frightened me. I wrote on Amy’s blog about how self love is always a journey and the goal is to have more good days than bad days.  This day was a. BAD. Day.

It took a while to remove myself from that destructive state of mind. After I did, sad was the furthest thing from my mind. I was fucking outraged.

How DARE someone make me ashamed of my body. How DARE someone reduce me to the size of my dress.  How DARE they dismiss things I say about healthy living because I weigh more than them. How DARE they tell me that I’m lazy and have no self control. How dare they make me ashamed to feel sexy. How dare they. How FUCKING DARE they.

In our society today, fat discrimination is not only accepted, but encouraged. Fat people shouldn't complain about this, because if they would just lose weight then it would go away. Case in point. I think it is all too easy to forget about size discrimination. This particular issue of Sizeism, though we do talk about it, isn't talked about enough. We like to focus on the positive, of course. How to love ourselves, why we are awesome, "be you and be fabulous!" we cheer.  But on the flip side there is an ugly, ugly world that needs to be actively challenged.  I have to question if we ever stop to contemplate the depth and horror of fat discrimination. Health care is denied, jobs are retracted, jokes ruin self esteem, food service is shitty, and hate crimes ARE committed. This and more. Much much more. All of this out of fear of a body shape. This is beyond unacceptable.

After processing these thoughts the unjustifiable disgust from the posts and forums strengthened my resolve to like myself. And not only like myself, but love my body, and tell anyone who says otherwise to fuck off. The best way to combat the idea that my "existence should be punished" is to be a contradictory and visibly successful and happy person who revels in my own awesomeness. This is why I am starting a new series of posts entitled:

“25 Things Fat People Shouldn't Do”

25 Things Fat People Shouldn't Do is an unabashed middle finger to the preposterous idea that any human who weighs more than the status quo does not deserve to live a full and well rounded (ahem) life. The list of 25 is composed word for word from direct lists of sheer assholery found on the internet. These range from the absurd to the profoundly shameful, and I will be disproving this offensive notion with style. Feel free to join in on the fun, and if you do, email me a link so I can share. May the Chub Club live long and prosper!

I have posted my list here, and will be checking them off (hopefully) weekly in no particular order.

And to the rude morons who say I shouldn't, I say: 
watch me motherfuckers. Watch me real good.

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FAT AND EASY: TOTALLY NOT SYNONYMS

Hold on to your britches ladies, shit is going to get real on this here blog for a minute or two.

I remember the exact moment that the concept of someone finding me attractive became even a remote possibility. I was 20 years old (TWENTY), talking to a friend when they said with a snicker, “Can you believe Henry thinks you’re hot?!?”

This sentence came to me as a question because “Henry” was not one to be flattered by. He didn't have girls lining up to date him and he didn't possess any qualities of a good catch, but these details were lost on me. I was still shocked and stunned by the fact that ANY homosapien on this planet would find my body attractive.

Growing up, I felt so desexualized that the promise of any sort of physical appreciation was inconceivable, even in my future. Yet here I was. A male found me sexy. It was within this moment that my wheels started turning -- and thus began my two-year stint with reckless and hedonistic debauchery.

Dun dun DUN!

I really wish I could say that I never stepped foot into the word of endless one-night stands based purely on attention toward my body. I wish that I grew up thinking that I was beautiful NOT ONLY on the inside, but on the outside as well. I wish that I was raised to celebrate, love, cherish and appreciate my body for all of the wonderful things that it does and is, but I wasn't.

I grew up mortal enemies with my body; so much so that I was completely and utterly detached from it. Me and My Body were separate entities all together; fused only by physical proximity. My body was the friend that people tolerated so they could hang out with the rest of me. My poor body. So hated, reviled, ignored, camouflaged, shunned, demoralized and loathed. My body was neglected and famished for attention and so I jumped at the chance to be with whoever would have me.

Self-esteem is complex, diverse and impossible to fully understand. What I do know is that our personal views on ourselves are comprised of every interaction we have ever had in our whole life. The associations from your early childhood (especially infancy) count more than the rest. If you learned, even subconsciously, that you were not OK, well my friend, it's an uphill battle for the rest of your life.

“Fat women learn early that they should take male attention wherever they can get it, because what self respecting man would want to fuck a fat woman? Not only does this knowledge reinforce the idea that fat women do not deserve to be seen, but it also positions fat women as targets for men looking for an easy lay- she’ll take what she can get, regardless of what she actually desires, and consider herself lucky. The idea of such a woman saying no is inconceivable.”  -- Lesley Kinzel (Two Whole Cakes)

When it comes to sexuality and body image, life is especially hard on women. Overweight women are taught that we have failed at something that is unforgivable, and that failure decreases our worth as human beings. We have committed the worst sin, should be punished, and if we get any attention we should be eternally grateful that the fat gods have smiled down on our pathetic sub-human selves.

I believed it. Thanks to the shitty self-esteem I accumulated throughout my previous 21 years, I was easily seduced, fucked, discarded and then used as a ladder to get to more attractive (read: worthwhile) girls while enjoying the climb. All of this would start and end in quick succession, and I had no idea that I should have been bothered. I was just amazed that I got so much attention.

I am not concerned about the number of people that I slept with. Grown-ass adults can sleep with as many (or as few) people as they damn well like. This doesn’t make me ANY of the crass names that people like to call sexually active women.

But I am concerned about the intent behind my escapades. I wasn't purposefully giving my awesome woman-ness away, I was letting anyone and everyone take it. I wasn't bestowing upon, I was being stolen from. I didn’t value myself and so therefore the interactions themselves had no value.

I don't like the way I treated my body back then. It has nothing to do with being perceived as a "loose woman" (being a loose woman can be fun!), but rather everything to do with the fact that I deserved better. Better intentions and better care. I wish I would have said yes when I wanted yes, and no when I wanted no. That simple.

After those debaucherous years and the following few wherein I dated asex addict (sex equals love, right?), I started to catch on to the fact that I was being duped. When each rendezvous ended, I was left with just as much self-hatred as before. I started to see that physical lovin’ wasn’t my cure for self-loathing. I slowly and consciously started to learn how to say yes and how to say no, giving both my psyche and body the chance to choose what they actually wanted. I started liking myself a little more each day and soon after and attracted/captured my Him. With his support I have dabbled with the concept of falling in love with myself, an idea that had never been in my periphery before.

I am still and will probably always be on the journey toward accepting my body. We’ve been enemies for so long that to expect an immediate truce would be asinine. I have both good days and bad days throughout the week and when the former outweighs the latter, I call it a success. I feel loved by my Him more than anyone else and it isn't because he only sees what's inside of me. He finds what’s inside AND outside of me beautiful, and that is what has allowed me to begin to feel the same.

You can let go of your britches now.

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I'M PROUD OF MY SIZE: THE SEXY FATKINI

BREAKING NEWS: I am a TOTAL babe.

This past weekend the "perfect beach body" ideal got the middle finger when this girl and her size 18 curves strutted her stuff in front of the Saturday afternoon crowds on Mission Beach.

Let me be honest with you... it was one of the hardest things I've ever done.

I have struggled with body image before I even knew there was a name for it, so to blatantly look society's expectations (and my past self-judgments) in the eye and tell them to fuck off took a lot of guts that I really didn't know I had. The funny thing is though, I've never felt sexier in my life.

This exercise of self-confidence solidified my conviction in myself and my beauty.

I don't know how to put it into words, but I left that beach knowing that this was just the beginning of a life filled with body love. And I knew it was here to stay.

You might consider doing the same thing and linking it back to Rachele.

Totally worth it.

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I AM PROUD OF MY SIZE! NO, REALLY

I've been shooting a lot of beautiful women (with a camera lens, silly!) for the Lady Bookworms project and it is SHOCKING how every single one of these gorgeous babes will berate themselves in front of a camera. While taking "boob portraits" someone would say  "Ugh, I don't have much..." or "I don't have anything to show off" or "I'm so embarrassed that they're not perfect". It's hard to believe that almost every single person suffers from some sort of physical insecurity. What the hell?

Ladies. Listen. 

You're perfect. 

Every single one of you, just the way you are.

I've never had boob confidence issues because as a fat girl, boobs are the only part of your body that society allows you love. And, lord knows, I've got boobs until the cows come home. In taking these IPOMS pictures, however, I found myself inadvertently hating on my chin. Or rather, my triple chin. But thanks to these sequential photo-op experiences, I had to stop and realize that no one hates my chin except for me. And no one thinks that these boobs are sub-par except for her/them. It's a completely fabricated mental state of being. In other words: "If it doesn't get thought, it doesn't exist." It's really that elementary, my dear reader.

So I've made a promise to my face. 

I'll stop hating it, and start loving it instead. After all, it does some pretty awesome things.

One of my favorite lines from Regina Spektor says:

"I've got a perfect body, though sometimes I forget...

I've got a perfect body, 'cause my eyelashes catch my sweat."

You should probably listen to that song.

Thanks Rachele for inspiring ladies to love themselves just the way they are.

Amy too.

Oh, and Moorea, I'm wearing red lipstick.

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I AM PROUD OF MY SIZE: EMPOWERMENT LINK UP

 I can cut through the crap that society says is true pretty easily, except when it comes to body acceptance. Lord, is it difficult. Only recently (a few months) have I found the courage to embrace who I am and not put human worth into pounds or sizes! I am who I am, and I'm AWESOME. Fo realz.

I read Rachele's blog regularly and she posted a link up challenge to ladies to take a snazzy picture of yourself and proclaim your size with enthusiasm. All sizes 0-32 and beyond! All positively wonderful. SO, i grabbed my him to be my photographer and ran outside to proclaim to the world that I'm a size 18 and goddamn sexy!

And though I don't do outfit posts much, I wanted to tell you that while I do love my 90's cherry slip dress, my favorite part of the ensemble was the plastic duck hair clip that reminds me of elementary school.

I challenge YOU to take a picture with a number on it! You can click here or on the top "I Am Proud Of My Size" button to link up! Now get out there and get sassy!

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HONEST TO BLOG: LINKS I LOVE

Oh, the controversy.

Lego, builder of kiddo worlds has attempted expand their market to those little ones with vaginas by offering the "Friends" line... This features the first lego figures with boobs, big eyes and lipstick. This in and of itself is unnecessary, but I suppose to some, understandable. Women do after all have the sexy curves that (iconically boxy plastic?) men don't. I'm not exactly sure if that needs to be highlighted in adolescent and culturally malleable girls toys though... Discuss. The part that frustrates me the most is the activities that these feminine Lego friends do, and only do: dressing up, girl chatting in cafes, meeting at the beauty shop and taking care of animals (cats an' horses people. cats and horses). I don't think the point is that women don't enjoy these things. I for one, love dresses, coffee, purple hair, and cats. The point is that this offering of female culture within a giant cesspool of action and masculinity is so heart shaped, pink, and frivolous that little girls grow up believing that this is the option available for them. 

When you Google "lego girls feminism" like I did you will most likely get a list of articles from Fox News and poorly written rants from people that love Fox News talking about how the movement "seems to oppose any expression of traditional, old-fashioned femininity, but why? Shouldn't parents have the option of purchasing toys that express traditional masculinity, traditional femininity, and everything in between?" I say YES! Exactly! Choices! The pluralization of choices though, insinuates that there has to be more than one... I would love to see the "everything in between"! Please make them! Exclamation point!

Above is the HIGHLY informative and factually solid rebuttal to Lego's girlcentric offerings. If I were you, I would watch it. I already have a crush on Anita Sarkeesian. One of those write-her-name-all-over-my-spiral-bound-Lisa-Frank-notebook crushes.

And, Lego, quit with the insulting video tutorials for girls featuring dumbed-down visual instructions on how to put 3 pieced Olivia together while the boppy song "We Can Do It" plays in the background... give them the same .pdf instructions like everyone else. Our genitals and our brains are completely separate anatomical parts. I promise.

ONWARD! 

Links I Love + Honest to Blog Favs:

Kat shares about her un-published posts.

What we think about how we look is relative.

Kaelah re-dedicated herself to blog honesty.

I want to make DIY pencils!

and the OHMYGODAWESOME compilation of HOT SEXY all sized chicks in bikinis!!!!!. I feel like that photo montage probably deserves a whole post after my plus size swimwear rant. Maybe I'll highlight it again later.

Well, Its Memorial Day Weekend and I am on a full blown vacation with my Him in the fancy outskirts of Phoenix. I was debating nixing the internet use on this trip, but as I was sipping coffee on a balcony I read a magazine article about the Lego shenanigans and I couldn't resist doing some research. I've been living in a bathing suit with sunglasses glued to my head and I think its time to make a mixed drink and take another dip in the pool.

Ciao baby!

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