The Trick

I think we all love what I call Awesome and Cool Fat Babes. I mean, how can we not? There are incredible people out there like Sian and Rachele and Erin (to name so very few), and that's exactly what they are. Awesome and Cool. They all exude this contagious confidence, and they all seem so incredibly comfortable in their own skin.

Sometimes, I wonder if I carry off that persona half as well.

And then, after that, I realise that it's just that: a persona. I don't know these people very personally. I haven't met a single one, and I don't know that they're that confident all the time. Heaven knows I'm not.

That's the thing, though. We talk about and encourage self-confidence so much that it becomes the first thing we admire, and the first thing we envy. We see bloggers smiling at the camera like they have all the best secrets, see them standing tall and proud, see them showing off their bodies like they are the most precious of treasures. We see the images and words they send out into the void, and we see who they'd like us to see. Presumably, they show us who they'd like to be.

This isn't an indictment on the "unreality" of blogging, or whatever. Because we all do it. That's how this thing works. We show off what we think is the best of us and we allow ourselves a brief moment to fully encompass that being we project, and it's beautiful.

This isn't an indictment of anything, really. Just... I don't know. It's me saying that, while we all showcase our strength and confidence, we forget that everyone has bad days. I don't say that to bind us all together—no, our shared love of pizza and cute clothes does that pretty well (the pizza was just a speculation, but then, if you don't like pizza, that is wrong).

We, as a group, encourage self-confidence so strongly that every second without it feels like failure. It feels like falling from a great height, like you've lost something you've worked so hard to get. I mean, look at that blogger, she's so confident, why can't I be more like her?

We punish ourselves in this way. We forget something so incredibly, incredibly important.

IT IS OKAY NOT TO LOVE YOUR BODY ALL THE TIME.

IT IS OKAY NOT TO LOVE YOUR BODY AT ALL.

YOU ARE UNDER NO OBLIGATION TO LOVE YOUR BODY EVERY SINGLE SECOND OF EVERY SINGLE DAY.

While I think that the message of self love matters so much, I also think that we need to teach ourselves and our world that you are not a failure if you don't love your body or yourself. You are not wrong, you are not being stupid, you are not anything. You are allowed to feel what you feel. Don't you ever forget that.

The Composite Project

You remember that thing I was really excited about a week ago? Well, it's finally here.

This is The Composite Project. It is, simply put, a bunch of pictures of things you like. Although I guess the simply-put version isn't particularly useful. So a story instead!

This was inspired by a couple of things, truth be told. First off, I'd been having a bad few body image days. We all do, it's human nature, or something like that. I'd written up a love letter to my body, and in it was a list of the things I absolutely loved about my physical body. I'd come up with the idea between writing the post and putting it up, and I went to Casey the second it hit me.

She was very, very enthusiastic about the project I proposed it to her. Her message had caps and mis-typed punctuation—that's how you know someone's stoked about something. But she immediately volunteered to be the photographer.

Finally, yesterday, we were able to hang out. After watching Star Wars and eating cereal, she grabbed up her camera and we went outside to shoot. The photos turned out beautifully, if I do say so myself, and I am so grateful for her enthusiasm and faith in the project.

So here's what the project actually is. It's about pieces of the whole, sort of. You write out a list of the things you love about your body and you take pictures of them. Simple, right? Except sometimes, it can be really difficult to accept those things surrounding the parts you love. There was a breakout on my chin when Casey took the pictures, and I wasn't at all pleased with my bra straps showing, but then, when I finally got to see what I loved and at such a different angle—it was something else entirely.

To have a photo shoot devoted entirely to the most ridiculous little parts of your body that you love just feels amazing, even if it's weird to have your best friend say, "Okay, left forearm!"

Enough chattering from me, here's my list, and here are my photos.

Coming Soon

If you follow me on Instagram or tumblr, you'll have seen this picture that means nothing to you. Worry not, it will shortly.

Yep, a new thing. Details and a proper introduction will be forthcoming. Expect more within the next couple of weeks. I'm just too excited about it, okay?

Body Love Conference

Have you seen this post on The Militant Baker yet? If not, listen up: there's going to be a body love conference in Tucson next April, and they need help funding this. We've all got thirty days to help raise $10,000 to get this thing off the ground and happening.

There are all kinds of goodies to get, and actually, if you contribute at least $35, you get a ticket to the conference. I snapped that up pretty quickly, actually. Not only does the event sound awesome, it seems like a real game-changer. Gathering hundreds of people in one place to discuss body positivity would be such a tremendous boost to the movement. We all know that this has been a major fight on the internet, but to have something like this go on in the real world is incredible.

I'm just really enthusiastic (as we all know), and I think the idea behind the conference is amazing. So, even if you can't contribute financially, you should share this all over the place and let everyone know that something awesome is going down next April.

My Dear Body

Sometimes, out of nowhere, you get hit with thoughts that are significantly less than cheerful. They're a slow blue-green poison in your veins, and they last for days, weeks, months.

I have anxiety, and it likes to manifest itself in some really unpleasant ways. One of the most common: decisively un-stellar body image. While this it doesn't always happen because of my anxiety (everyone has days where they just don't like the way that skirt or dress fits), that certainly doesn't help to make it any less annoying and awful.

Sometimes, the best way to get rid of these toxic feelings is to pour them out and hope that the light can fill the gaps and take over. That doesn't always work, so the Next Best Thing is injecting some sunshine into that blue-green venomous darkness and hope for the best.

Hotter Than

You know that phrase "Real women have curves"? Sure you do! It's kind of ubiquitous. And obnoxious. Not to mention completely counterproductive to the whole body acceptance movement in that it is still body shaming.

I've got curves. I have rounded, ample flesh that only forms straight lines with concentration. My fingers arch and bend. My belly consists of bands of softness, much like my arms and thighs. My calves are uneven and round and curvy. My toes, my nose, the bows of my eyes: all of them are curves. Some are finer and more delicate than others. Some of those others are like bending arcs.

I am curvy, but that isn't what makes me a woman, real or otherwise.

There are women with straight hips, or rounded hips. Women with flat and ample chests. Women with one distinct chin, women with multiple.

It isn't the shape that makes a woman, and this is obvious, right? Well, you'd think so. While we know this, quite clearly and logically, there is still this temptation to try to do good by one group by stepping on another. Mothers, don't tell your daughters that "real women have curves" when they're fighting their bodies. Tell your daughters, sisters, best friends, reflections that your body is beautiful because it fits a certain constraint or construct. Your body is beautiful because it is yours. Lame and cheesy as that sounds, it's true. Even if you're a twin (or triplet, or nontuplet, whatever), no one before or since has had your precise body, down to the whorls of your fingerprints, down to the planes of your belly, down to the bows of your eyes. Don't squander your own body by believing that it isn't as good as others, but most of all, don't tear down others because they don't fit your construct of beauty.

That's just not cool, dude.

My Body is Home

This is honestly, seriously, truly one of the most powerful things I think I've ever listened to. The message is vital and beautifully done and I'm not sure if I want to smile like a dope or cry.

Just give it a listen, yo.

Bravery

So I'm assuming we've all heard about Gabi Fresh's collaboration with Swimsuits for All. I'm also assuming we're all drooling over the fabulously cut fatkinis coming out on the 15th.

I love myself a fatkini, I really do. I think that they look just as good as onepieces, if not better. I just don't know if I'm brave enough for one. I still have issues with body acceptance on my own, and while I'm generally pretty willing to shell out over $75 on a bathing suit that actually fits, I'm not sure if I'm willing to do that with something I might be too terrified to actually wear.

I've gone through more boring black onepiece suits over the years than anyone ever should. I used to wear tee-shirts and shorts over them, too. Then, a couple years ago, I bought a new black suit from WalMart that fit poorly around the bust and just wore crazy bright boardshorts with it. Short ones, too. That felt good. Then, the following year, I bought a bathing suit I really liked; it was still black, but with these fabulous mesh details that made me feel amazing. And it was from WalMart, no less!

Last year, I got my first two-piece in well over a decade from Torrid, and it fit beautifully and I looked great, and my brother accidentally threw it out a few months back. He threw out that one, my suit with the mesh, and those swimshorts. My heart broke.

Anyway, now I'm on the hunt for a new suit, and I'm trying to convince myself that a fatkini is not a bad idea. I might have a bit more of a belly than the girl in this picture, but why on earth should that stop me?

I'm looking to my friends for succour and any bravery that they can pass on. I like my body, so why should baring a few inches of midriff be so scary?

Perception

The biggest aspect of Fat Acceptance, and Body Acceptance (to me, at least) is this simple motto: All bodies are good bodies. No matter what you think is wrong with it, it. is. good.

This is one of the hardest things to accept I think, though it's incredibly easy to think that it's simple. Your body is included in this group. Strangers at WalMart are here, too. Supermodels and headless fatties alike. But more often than not, it feels like a Sisyphean task.

There's another old adage that we all know, one that says that people only put others down because they're insecure. While it might not be universal, it's entirely too true. I know this firsthand.

See, even as a fat girl, I'm guilty of judging bodies.

Too skinny, too fat, thank Kanye I have slender ankles.

In my straggling pursuit of self acceptance, I've gotten so much better about it, but I am still not immune. I might never be. And the cycle is as easy to identify as it is difficult to end.

I hate my body, I judge others' bodies.

On a good day, I think nothing but good things, about everyone. On a bad day, everyone is subject to my bad thoughts. My perception of others' bodies is directly related to my perception of my own body. It's a capricious system, and a poisonous one.

It's just hard to be content with what you have, I think. It's even harder to actually be happy with it. But it's a road worth traveling, no matter how many potholes get in the way. Sometimes, we just have to work harder at it.

Barely relevant, entirely perfect.

Be Aware

I have a handful of posts lined up and in my head regarding body image, fat/body acceptance, body shaming,  and things of that nature. I'm letting you know in case you're not interested in reading them (don't worry, I'm not offended, clothes posts are nice too), or if they may somehow be triggering.

It's something that's become important to me in the past few years, and it's something I do like to talk about. So bear with me!

And if anyone would like to contribute anything to this discussion, let me know and we'll talk! I'd love for my fellow bloggers to join me in this. Heck, I'd love for readers to join in!

Let me know what you think, where you stand, or anything you'd like, really.

The F Word

What, exactly, is so toxic about the word fat? Why must we work so hard to "banish the belly" and go for a size two? Why do we allow ourselves to be guilted into hating our bodies?

Our bodies are something to loathe as they are. They're something to fix, something to improve, something that is quite obviously not your "Best Body Ever!" Anyone who decides that, hey, a burger sounds really good tonight is quite obviously unhealthy, doubly so if they're fat.

That's not to say that there aren't unhealthy fat people don't exist. Of course they do. But what people fail to realise is that healthy fat people do exist, just like unhealthy thin people. Several studies have been done to prove that size does not dictate health.

That terrible F word is not only dangerous as it stigmatizes fat people, but it wreaks havoc on the mental health of just about everyone. Yes, everyone, fat and skinny alike.

Eating disorders don't just affect skinny people, in the same way that they don't just affect women. But of course, once you reach a certain size, these dangerous behaviours—I mean physically dangerous—are applauded as an attempt to "Get your life back on track!" That's especially ambitious if you've kind of always been fat, or chubby, or simply Not Skinny.

Stigmatization against the word fat, not just fat on the body, but also fat in food, is detrimental. It makes something that occurs naturally, something that is actually vital for living, and makes it a dirty word. It manifests itself in such subtle ways as a girl like me, who's actually fairly confident, not owning any jeans because she doesn't like how they make her belly look. It manifests itself in my niece thinking that fat is the worst insult out there, on par with ugly, stupid, undesirable. It manifests itself in dangerous problems in people I love who are beautiful as they are.

Fat is a dirty word because accepting it means accepting your body, jiggly bits and all. In a world that is sort of run on body shaming, the person who actually accepts their body for what it is is revolutionary. The person who actually loves their body is radical!

I'm doing my best to teach my nieces and nephews, my friends, and myself that there are worse things in life than fat. I am not encouraging fatness, not by any means, but I am encouraging them to see that what they have is good, no matter what they're told.
And, if we're being honest, I'm doing the same for you and me both.

Evolution

Warning: super long. Sorry. Mostly.

I grew up with a mom who loved to sew and loved to dress up her daughter, in equal measures. Yes, I'm sure you can imagine the dresses and matching hats and all that. Don't worry, I'll relieve your imaginative powers and let you have this:

Bonus cousin! He's taller than me now.
He's three months younger.
I resent it.

Then, when I was in the third grade or so, I started growing out of these dresses (I mean this more metaphorically than physically, really). All I wanted was a pair of jeans. I started dressing a lot more tomboyishly around the fourth grade. Coincidentally (or not), this was when I moved out of the realm of Little Girl to Little Chubby Girl.

On Bodies

Halloween 2011. Year of the Pokey-Pokey Stick.
Hideously enough.

Bear with me, this is a rant-type-thing that I wrote up when I should have been sleeping or doing homework. Note that when I say rant, I don't necessarily mean that I'm annoyed. It's just a long...discussion. Yeah, that's what we'll call it. A discussion.

I don't know.