Am I fat?
I ask that question to myself everyday and no one has the right to tell me that I am fat. I was born as a very skinny child and doctors were afraid I might die, but my mom took great care of me and I survived and now I am a healthy person or you can call a “FAT” one. Continue reading
body image
“You’re not fat!”
Contains triggering material.
American Horror Story: Freak Show
I absolutely love these interviews that American Horror Story is putting out on YouTube. It definitely gives us a perspective on how those with unique bodies, view their own bodies, and learn to accept their own bodies.
Finding a Balance
Before I took this class I was never fully comfortable with my body, how it functioned, or of other peoples bodies. I would think it inappropriate or awkward to talk about bodily functions, saw myself as overweight and unattractive, and be overly self conscious around others. Continue reading
Namaste
Recently, I have started going to yoga classes at the RAC twice a week with my roommate and one of my suite mates. After going to a few sessions, I realized how much yoga makes me aware of my body in different ways.
First class: I walk into the room where the class is held, and I see a slew of medium-height, slender girls (and a few guys) with perfectly toned bodies who gracefully rolled out their yoga mats and sat down and stretched their perfectly formed muscles. Continue reading
Do you really want it or… Do you just say you do?
I’ve recently came to the realization that people will complain about something but do nothing to change it. I do this all the time! Let’s begin with my weight. There’s not a month that goes by that I don’t hear something about my appearance. I always think to myself…. how lucky those skinny girls are because they can eat whatever they want and not gain weight. Yep, I’m sure you know at least one person like this. What gets me the most… is when I hear skinny people say they need to go on a diet. My face automatically drops… Like really?
Attention Walmart Shoppers
“People of Walmart – Funny Pictures of People Shopping at Walmart.” Their slogan might be more accurate if they changed it to “Body Policing at its Finest.” Now, I understand rolling your eyes at something silly someone does at the store, or a weird way someone wears their hair. More specifically, I can totally understand “cringe-worthy” outfits that don’t support someone’s body type as I’m an avid What Not To Wear fan. But People of Walmart really sets the standard for public shaming, no matter what the reason. You can be fat, skinny, black, white, short, tall, male, female – it doesn’t matter. If there’s something off about you, even in the smallest sense, you could be subject to getting posted on this site. Continue reading
To Be a Meme.
My new biggest fear in life is having something dramatically embarrassing happen to me and it somehow falls into the hands of the internet. I mean, I know there are way worse things that can happen to a person, but these days? In 2014? Don’t let somebody screenshot you with a funny caption before your picture/video becomes viral within a day. Oh, the joys of social media.
Hello, officer? I’d like to report a case of missing legs — On Having Excoriation Disorder
Contains mentions of blood, and substance abuse disorders
My legs are, without a doubt, one of my best features. I cherish them. After a history of negative body image, it is important to me to have a part of my body I like. But for the majority of the month of September, I have been hiding them. Despite hating the cold weather and feeling a great sadness that the summer is coming to an end, I have been glad to have an excuse to break out the fleece-lined tights and jeans early. I cannot begin to entertain the idea of being seen with my legs bare anymore, because since the beginning of the month, my calves and thighs have become a torn canvas of irritated skin and dried blood.
Blessed with Bosoms
I have had boobs since I was eleven years old. In fact, it would seem at eleven, I would experience all the things associated with puberty in that one year. Some of my oldest friends can’t even remember me being “flat-chested” and they would joke about how I was born with boobs. I have had a love hate relationship with my boobs mainly because others seemed to notice them. I have heard every single epithet hurled at me from eleven until now at twenty-five from males and females alike. Just to name a few names, Tits McGee, Tig O’ Bitties, and my all time favorite, Jiggles. Through these names were probably meant to be endearing, I am growing sick and tired of the attention solely based on my boobs. But it is not only the names but the gawking, the back handed comments, the jokes ( I have heard every boob joke by now), the jealousy of other women, and the back problems.
