The nonpliment – “Oh my gosh, you lost so much weight!”

Sitting in my “to-read” list for a bit was this article.  It caught my eye because of what we have been talking about in class for our fat studies unit.  Now that I read it, I am SO glad I did.

During our conversation last week, we talked about the really important idea of keeping the lives of fat people at the center of our analysis.  One of the other points from class that really stuck with me was that it’s not just enough to focus on loving our own bodies and encouraging people to love their bodies, but we also need to respect and love other people’s bodies of all shapes, to accept, to affirm, and to abandon size-judgement.

I Know This Pretty (Slutty) Rave Girl…

Jamming onstage to Doctor P during Stacked: Miami. RIP blue hair.

If you’ve ever heard me talk about my musical interests, you’ll know that I’m a massive basshead. I love everything about the Electronic Dance Music community, from the art of making heartfelt kandi bracelets and the secret handshake used to trade them, to the PLUR (Peace, Love, Unity, and Respect) motto, the flow arts (hula hoop dancing, poi, and flow wand) performances during a show, the ability to walk up to anyone and potentially make a new best friend, to the infectious energy radiating from the crowd. Being introduced to the EDM scene allowed me to express myself with reckless abandon, whether it be through dance, hooping, kandi-making, or interesting costume-like getups. But there’s one thing I don’t love about this community- the amount of slut shaming in response to girls wearing rave outfits that attempt to be both cute and comfortable.

TW: Sexual assault, death mention, slut shaming, drug mention, rape culture

Note of Absence for 10/9

I’m not going to class today.

I can’t say that it’s because I have a fever, or because I had a dentist appointment, or because anybody died.

I’m not going because of the sensations I feel when we talk about fatness. The sickness and the overwhelming feeling of inadequacy (that has always been pushed in to my mentality from various points in my life) always crop up as we talk about our fat, or not so fat bodies. It’s inevitable, this distinct sucking feeling, as if my gut has become a vacuum, and I can zip myself away like a fancy reusable grocery bag.

We talk critically about the hegemonic institutions that create these body ideals. We complain together, air our grievances, we nod and shake our heads together. We are a good class, a good group of people who can empathize and understand each other’s problems, but that’s not enough to save me from wanting to shrink into my backpack and cry in a bathroom stall.

Short Hair, Don’t Care

It is funny how some people can dislike one small aspect of your body. Shouldn’t people be more reasonable and accept your styles when you choose to do them. Shouldn’t it not be anyone’s business but your own in choosing what you do with your appearance?

Once upon a time I had a boyfriend and we had been dating for about 2 years.Throughout the relationship I had very long hair. This long, frizzy, split ended, dead mass of hair flopping on my cheeks around my face. Don’t get me wrong at one point I did enjoy having my long hair, for me it was a way of hiding when I suddenly became shy and uncomfortable with myself/ my body.. But then all of a sudden I decided to stop hiding from the “world” and show them my face. After I cut my hair I felt a sensation that I had never felt before:empowerment. I felt so unstoppable and beautiful I could not wait to show my boyfriend at the time. He broke up with me within 3 months saying he couldn’t stand my short hair and he wasn’t attracted to me anymore.  My response was simply this; short hair don’t care.

I had learned to love my body, face and self that I realized that I didn’t really “need” him anymore. If someone can’t accept your physical appearance then they are not welcome to influence your daily life.  After cutting my hair I became more comfortable with my body especially my face. Cutting my hair released and old version of me who I never want to be again, a shy small woman who cant see the beauty in herself. That old version of self will never be invited in my life again.

Changes

2 Days Ago

10:30am: Doctor Who theme song plays inches from my head. Time to wake up.

10:35am: Get into shower. Let water pour over my head and into the floor. Eventually use soap.

The Short Body

I am 4 feet and 9 inches tall and I am proud to say that I am short. I have never been worried about my height before. In High School, I have always had people come up to me and ask, “Why are you so short?” I had no answer, no words would come out come out of my mouth, I wasn’t prepared for the confrontation. It’s no big deal though; I’m just a short person, that’s how I am and I can’t do anything about it; actually, I’m comfortable being short, I like that I am different from everyone else. Sometimes I do have my days when I’m like, “Why the hell can’t I be taller, like everyone else?” But then, I wouldn’t be me. Ever since I was little I knew I was different from the other kids, but I didn’t know why. I was shy around everyone and didn’t talk much; Hell, I used to pretend that my family was part of the “X-Men” and pretend that we would secretly save the world from evil. In high school I never I got teased about my height, until my senior year, a girl in one of my classes used to tease me, after a while I started to believe that I would be much happier if I were taller, like the other kids in my class. Why would that make me happy? I wanted to change myself just because someone called me “short”? NO! Just no! I would never ever, in a million years, ever change anything about myself for someone else! I was fine with way I was until then. Is it because societal norms have found it more appealing to be tall? Whatever, regardless of that shit, this is how my body looks and I am truly happy with it and would never change it. 

Yo Mama’s So Fat…

Working at a restaurant gives me the chance to people watch. It’s almost as if people forget they are out in public and say things in conversation, with each other or even myself, that often catch me off guard.

The Hawkeye Initiative

If you’re a Marvel fan – be it comics, movies, or television shows – and you’ve been active on the internet in the past few months, you may have noticed a new feminist phenomenon sweeping through your newsfeeds and dashboards. As you may have already read in this post about comic book women, breasts and bums are often the focus of entire panels and covers. The Hawkeye Initiative takes offense at that, and is fighting back, one illustration at a time.

A Politics of Tension, Pain, and Embodied Storytelling (Short Story)

 (tw: racial slurs, street harassment/assault[?])

And so, I’m driving West on Route 40, feeling like I belong in Baltimore. It’s maybe ten on a Friday night, and about two hundred yards before I am to pass them, I see maybe a dozen kids of color on the median strip. Teenagers. My body tensed, as it’d learned to.