Fatshionista. Spreading Fat Acceptance, Feminism and Social Justice with a sparkly flame thrower. I love puppies and kittens and punk and grunge and comics and sci-fi and rainbows and unicorns. Oh and I have an obsession with foxes. And the less popular, largely misunderstood 'possum. Really just all the animals except spiders. And I'm a proud Mommy in the process of coaching my daughter in the fine art of bad-assery so she never takes an ounce of crap from anyone.
Happy Halloween! Hope it has been adventurous!
I took an “official” LSP costume in the biggest size it came in (that would be a large, or 2 sizes too small for me, because of course it makes sense that only skinny girls want to dress up as LUMPY Space Princess?) and added a Domino Dollhouse tutu and voila! I look fresh to death. And I have the cutest P-Bubs in the world!
There may be a lot of jerks on tumblr, but there are people following you who are inspired by you, as well. Don't let them get you down. <3
Awww you have no idea how much that means to me. And I know, and promise to start writing more stuff again soon. I truly appreciate each and every one of my followers. <3 Please know you made my day happy with this message.
I gave Tumblr a break once enough people started noticing my posts that I started to get hate. And I come back on, and I see all these positive things: likes and reblogs, but two really stupid, nasty comments can still overshadow all that positivity. (For which I am immensely grateful, truly.)
Because these people who feel it’s ok to say whatever they want because they don’t like what I have had to say about Target’s plus sizes or a haiku about not letting a man’s opinion change me, these uneducated, obtuse bottom-feeders, they have no fucking idea who I am.
They don’t know or care that I suffer from extreme depression and some days it’s hard to get up.
They don’t know those are the only days what they say can really affect me, really more like trigger memories of every asshole who has traumatized me.
They don’t know that I have the ability to be meaner and nastier and cut them to the bone and probably make them actually cry, no matter who they are, with my words, because the way I grew up, that was Survival 101.
They don’t know that I don’t want to be that person anymore, but they are tempting me.
So I’m gonna just say this: if you aren’t my follower, if you aren’t a feminist or part of fat acceptance or body acceptance or LGBTQIA equality or racial justice or any other good, noble, humanitarian cause, or if you’re just not a decent human being, just find a hobby besides antagonizing people.
Because you don’t know me. And trust me, if you push me too far, you don’t want to.
Gonna try this online dating bollocks once more I suppose. Expect a glimpse into the dredges of manhood. (The ladies aren’t usually creepy.)
Sometimes you just gotta listen to Rihanna on repeat and cry to yourself for no reason in particular on a Wednesday afternoon.
How to talk to your daughter about her body, step one: don’t talk to your daughter about her body, except to teach her how it works.
Don’t say anything if she’s lost weight. Don’t say anything if she’s gained weight.
If you think your daughter’s body looks amazing, don’t say that. Here are some things you can say instead:
“You look so healthy!” is a great one.
Or how about, “you’re looking so strong.”
“I can see how happy you are – you’re glowing.”
Better yet, compliment her on something that has nothing to do with her body.
Don’t comment on other women’s bodies either. Nope. Not a single comment, not a nice one or a mean one.
Teach her about kindness towards others, but also kindness towards yourself.
Don’t you dare talk about how much you hate your body in front of your daughter, or talk about your new diet. In fact, don’t go on a diet in front of your daughter. Buy healthy food. Cook healthy meals. But don’t say “I’m not eating carbs right now.” Your daughter should never think that carbs are evil, because shame over what you eat only leads to shame about yourself.
Encourage your daughter to run because it makes her feel less stressed. Encourage your daughter to climb mountains because there is nowhere better to explore your spirituality than the peak of the universe. Encourage your daughter to surf, or rock climb, or mountain bike because it scares her and that’s a good thing sometimes.
Help your daughter love soccer or rowing or hockey because sports make her a better leader and a more confident woman. Explain that no matter how old you get, you’ll never stop needing good teamwork. Never make her play a sport she isn’t absolutely in love with.
Prove to your daughter that women don’t need men to move their furniture.
Teach your daughter how to cook kale.
Teach your daughter how to bake chocolate cake made with six sticks of butter.
Pass on your own mom’s recipe for Christmas morning coffee cake. Pass on your love of being outside.
Maybe you and your daughter both have thick thighs or wide ribcages. It’s easy to hate these non-size zero body parts. Don’t. Tell your daughter that with her legs she can run a marathon if she wants to, and her ribcage is nothing but a carrying case for strong lungs. She can scream and she can sing and she can lift up the world, if she wants.
Remind your daughter that the best thing she can do with her body is to use it to mobilize her beautiful soul.