Every day I question my appearance. I ask myself, what makes me ……. me? If I lose a part of me will I still be me? These questions may not make sense to you but these are some things that I ask myself. Continue reading
How being a waitress made me buff
I’ve had a few jobs growing up and nothing has shaped my body like being a waitress. I worked at a Mexican restaurant and our most popular dish was fajitas. If you’ve never had fajitas you have to know they are served with two plates: an iron plate for the meats (or veggies) and then a separate plate for all of the sides. Being our most popular dish, I would often end up with a table of four customers that would all order fajitas. I was petite, and balancing four iron plates on one hand and a tray stand on the other proved to be a difficult task, especially when I had to squeeze through a crowded bar. I could do it, but I wasn’t as fast as the men I worked with. The men, being taller and stronger, were given sections with up to six tables, I was stuck with three. My lack of strength was affecting my income and I had to take action. I couldn’t make myself any taller but I could definitely get buff. I began lifting weights and practicing after hours with empty plates on a tray until I proved I was strong enough to be given more tables. I wasn’t as strong as the guys, but I could carry my own weight.
Grief never ends… but it changes
My father passed away a few years ago. I have never felt such grief as I did when I received the phone call. It was early in the morning and I was still sleeping. I awoke to the vibrating phone and saw that it was my Mom. I thought to myself, “she never calls this early. something must be wrong.” I could hear her sorrow through the receiver. Continue reading
self care and activism
Just take the complement.
Growing up, I had never been very comfortable with my body, specifically in terms of my weight. Throughout high school I was never the most girly or skinny but I was generally okay with that. Uncomfortable at times yes, but I had friends, I played sports and did generally well in school academically so I didn’t have a very unpleasant high school experience. I enjoyed it a lot actually. It wasn’t until after l left my home town and would come back to visit friends and family that I started questioning the way I viewed myself as well as how others viewed me then and now. Without a doubt every time I go home and see someone from high school, close friends, and sometimes even parents of friends, that I haven’t seen in a while, one of the first things that they comment on is my weight. Usually things like, oh my god, you’ve lost so much weight or you look so good now, have you been working out a lot? What’s your secret? And every once in a while someone will add to the end of the comment “not that you ever looked bad or big, you just look really good now.” I tell myself to just take the compliment, but it’s hard to just take it when there is an underlying negative aspect that I can’t help but to associate with it. These comments really have me self-reflecting a lot because I weigh maybe five to ten pounds lighter than I did in high school, do I really look that different?
Most of the weight loss is not a healthy weight loss. Which took me a long time to realize. More so result of not taking time to eat properly because of stress and anxiety and a general lack of appetite because of it. But everyone responds to my body like I have lost a drastic amount of weight. This has caused me to think excessively about a time in my life that has long since passed. Was I just the funny fat girl who happened to have pretty friends, and that’s why people hung around me? Or were people friends with me because they genuinely enjoyed my company? Even my mother has made the comment of “she just doesn’t eat anymore” when people comment on my weight loss around her. To everyone else, I have lost weight and that’s such a good thing, but for me the weight loss and comments serve as a constant reminder that I have become temporarily incapable of taking care of myself and body because of the stress, anxiety, and depression that I deal with every day. The past couple years have been the most trying for me mentally so having this constant reminder of that adds another layer to the hardship. Work, school, and other obligations are always put first over making sure that my body is healthy and well taken care of, both physically and mentally.
The Relationship to Labor in Sex Work
When we speak about laboring bodies in class I am instantly aware that my relationship to labor is vastly different than that of my classmates. While I have worked in retail, food service, and other odd jobs, the majority of my work experience has been in sex work. I want to flesh out some of these differences, specifically in my experiences of being a stripper for the past four years. Continue reading
Too early to bloom
As a young girl, I started undergoing puberty quite soon. It began at 8 years old to be exact, such that, without medical intervention, I could have gotten my period by age 10. Alarmed, my parents scrambled to find a solution that would both conserve my innocence and manage the unruly growth that didn’t fit the proper timeline.
Playing Games for Control
The dinosaur
I play a lot of games. Video games mainly but overall, if it’s a game I’ll try it. This goes back many, many, years to when I was a kid and fascinated by the old brick of a GameBoy I got at a flea market for $5. Despite my long running fascination, I’ve never given much thought as to why I love them so much. There are lots of fairly surface-level reasons, like the characters, the art, the gameplay itself, or the community and bringing friends together. While those are all well and good, I feel like there might be more, especially when it comes to the games that myself and others get really obsessed about.
The Burka vs. The Bikini: Too much or too little?
In everyday life, women’s bodies are constantly being policed and judge by not only men, but by other women as well. Continue reading
Now and Then
At some point in my life I was 325lbs of pure fat. This was a result of me eating too much (having a sweet tooth and loving junk food) and not working out, I did not have any health conditions that caused me to be fat. Something as little as climbing up the stairs to get to my room, would get me breathing heavily and sweating. Looking myself in the mirror was always very difficult because my man-boobs and love-handles would irritate and make me feel uncomfortable. I remember all the insults I received from some of my family members, peers, and even strangers about my weight. Some of them were being hateful and bullies, but most of them were actually just trying to help/motivate me to lose weight. It didn’t matter if they had good or bad intentions, I was always sensitive about my weight.
Unruly Bodies 