WHAT WE'RE ABOUT
We are constantly redefining our own perspectives, and therefore tend to write a lot about our personal experiences. Many followers and contributors are living with anorexia, bulimia, body dysmorphic disorder, depression, and a variety of other body image disorders or mental illnesses, so please be respectful and remember that health applies differently to everyone. Any and all potentially triggering content will be prefaced with a trigger warning.
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We are not health professionals. Any and all advice provided on this blog is supported only by our own research, studies, and personal experiences; nothing more.
This blog is part of the Safe Space Network.
I’m Samantha. I’m a 27 year old fat ginger. I am also a mother, a teacher, and a human being. And I would like to share a story with you, as well as some encouragement.
As a chubby child/teenager, I was constantly confronted with fat shaming from not just friends, but family members. I was consistently told by parents, and grandparents, that being overweight or fat meant that I could never be attractive. I was told such as ‘Don’t you want to be pretty?’ ‘Don’t you think you should lose some weight while you can?’ ‘Nobody is going to want to love you if you don’t lose some pounds.’ ‘Have you gained weight?’
On top of that, I was blessed with true Irish heritage- I was porcelain white, covered in freckles head to toe, and had bright ginger hair. And as I got into puberty, a severe case of acne combined with eczema. My red hair, my extremely fair skin and the conditions with it, on top of my weight, made me a target for bullying, teasing, the butt of jokes, and there came a point where I realized that nobody believed it was a problem but me. When teased about my acne or eczema, my family told me to wear makeup to cover it up. When it was my hair, my mother suggested I dye it. When it was about my weight, I was actually told by my grandmother ‘Well, they have a point.’
I realize that many people didn’t have this degree of things happen to them. I assume that most parents don’t tell their middle-school aged kids to dye their hair when made fun of. But I know that some kids do go through that, because I was one of them. Some of us are taught all our lives that everything about us is wrong. That we can and should change to be more accepted, not just by society, but by ourselves.
There was a statement I heard a lot. ‘You’re going to be so unhappy when you’re older if…”
“…if you don’t lose weight.” “…if you don’t make an effort to fit in.” “…if you don’t try harder.”
And you know, I was unhappy. But I was unhappy not because I was fat, or ginger, or had acne. but because I had been taught that being fat or ginger or having acne meant I couldn’t be happy. That I couldn’t be beautiful, or sexy, or loved, or even healthy so long as I was being myself.
It took me a good part of my independent adult life to realize that my weight, my hair, my skin…I was defined by none of these things. I am beautiful. I am strong. I am smart, and I know enough now about body shaming in any form to call it out when I see it, even among those who I’m closest to.
The fact that nobody seemed to think the shaming, the bullying by my peers was a problem…including parents, teachers, principals…well, honestly, that’s what worries me. There were points in my teenage years when I seriously contemplated taking my own life because of the psychological, and occasionally physical attacks on who I was. There are kids out there right now who feel like that, because of similar reasons. Body hate is unacceptable, in any form, at any age.
I realize this is a bit of an expose, but I felt it was something that I needed to share.
To those of you who went through, and especially to those of you who are still going through any amount of what I did…I want to give you some encouragement. And even if you don’t believe it now, remember it, and revisit the idea occasionally. It’s the most important thing that I have learned about life so far.
No matter what anybody tells you, the only person who has a say in what is good for you, healthy for you, important for you…is you. You should stay as true to yourself as you can, and no matter what, always remember that you deserve to be happy.
It took me 27 years to learn that. I hope that sharing my story will help some of you learn it that much quicker.
-Samantha
I don’t know, I was curious.
If you’re ever feeling desperately low, like your brains could seep out of your ears from the pressure of your thoughts and you’re thoroughly sick of yourself, seek inspiration in the things you love. Avert your attention. Transform something in your appearance - anything - just to be able to look at yourself differently.
Get creative and imagine yourself as someone else, even if it means pain-stakingly painting your eyes with liquid liner whilst sitting cross-legged on your bed listening to Sonic Youth at 1 in the morning.
It helped me. Maybe it will help you.
I found this blog at the beginning of the semester, through a link at xojane, and it really really hit home. I realized that I need to make a concerted effort to work on loving myself (even though society tells me not to)- not through diet and exercise and self flagellation, but through acceptance. This project was an attempt at that. I researched fertility figures, and the ones that I liked best were the ones with round hips and large heavy breasts. The ones that resembled me. It reminds me that this obsession with size 0 is a recent trend. There have been times throughout history where we have been revered as the standard of beauty. So not only is this figure a reach into the past, but it is also a self portrait.
She has two faces, one forward and one back- and when I have some time, I will be setting a stone on either side- a moonstone for the Maiden aspect and a Labradorite for the Crone.
Thank you for giving me the courage to explore this. I still have some really bad, triggering days, but I hope that my new totem can help me remember that the clamoring of the media is not the truth of the world. I am a fat woman and that is ok.
all these years now of pretending i wasn’t real, not embracing the physical; to now understand what exactly is real. what i feel is real, what i know is real, and even more that love is real.
sometimes i wish i saw this sooner, sometime sooner then now.
I went shopping today with a friend. I wore a skirt that functions as both comfy and a little sexy. I bought a great pair of shoes I will refer to as my Zeldas because they remind me of 1920s fashion. During this shopping trip my friend and I were discussing various body-related troubles, and I found myself saying, instinctively, “There is one thing about my body I like.”
“That’s great!,” she responded. “You should always have at least one thing you like. What is it?”
“My breasts.”
“Yeah, I can see that!”
It’s true! I do like my breasts. They’re large Ds, but despite their size they are soft, supple, and firm, they don’t sag far, are pale and pink, and they look really great lifted in a bra.
I’ve also been told by more than one person that they feel great, and look even better when I’m lying down.
It felt really weird to type that, by the way…
Anyway, I should be able to like things about myself without the opinions of others, but I’m not quite that confident yet. So, I’ll say that my feelings are confirmed often. Men love them and compliment them both appropriately and inappropriately (though men tend to love breasts in general, so the relevance there is limited), and even women tend to love them. I’ve been to strip clubs a few times, and I cannot count how many times the dancers have come to me, sat down, and talked about my breasts. They ask if they’re real, they ask to touch them, express jealousy, and so on.
Now, there are down sides to having them. Clothing sometimes doesn’t fit when it should, shirts that don’t appear too low-cut on other women appear so on me because I have so much cleavage I can’t really stop it from showing, and some men think just because my cleavage exists that gives them the right to comment on it.
I mean, I understand they’re very much “there,” and it’s sometimes difficult not to take a look, particularly when I’ve opted for low-cut, but can you not control yourself enough to avoid looking like a deer in headlights? Or shouting really stupid shit like, “Look at them tig ol’ bitties!”
I’d like to kick the man who made that up in the crotch.
There’s also my mother, who thinks that losing weight, and breast size as a result, is a good thing.
What it comes down to is me, though. I found something to like, and that is a huge thing for me. Hopefully there will be a Part 2 to this soon.
i used to be so afraid nothing could save me from myself.
Ever have one of those days when you’re unsure how much phobia, hatred and all the bullshit society throws towards us that you can handle?
If I see one more Special K advert telling me I need to weight x amount to have self worth, I’m going to break my fucking television. Thank you for making my day 5x harder.
If I see one more poster of some airbrushed model who prefers to stand for nothing but an unattainable level of perfection to an audience of young, impressionable Women; I’m going to rip it off the wall and shove it in the garbage where it fucking belongs.
If I have to be fronted with one more comment like “This is ONLY x amount of calories; feel less guilty and have this disgusting alternative”, I’m going to take it off the shelf and stamp on it approximately twenty times. Because that’s what I fucking feel like doing.
If some ridiculous company ran by people who clearly have the intelligence of a fucking fish, tell me that I have to be a certain size to fit their idea of beautiful, hot, sexy, whatever; I’m going to cut the label out of every fucking clothing item in their store because it doesn’t matter what size you are.
The next time someone compliments my body based on their like/dislike/preference, it isn’t a compliment because YOU like it. I like myself for myself, if you want to actually compliment me, then state it based on something that matters; like the fact I’ve got a sparkling muthafucking personality, not whether or not I’m the size you find visually pleasing.
The next time some uneducated, naive person tries to tell me what is right for MY body; whether that be how much exercise I should be doing, how many calories I should be consuming, or whether or not I can allow myself to eat such a thing; I’m going to honestly tell them to shove their idealistic standards up their fucking backsides and grab a reality check. If you really had any concern for my well being, you would focus on my happiness; not some ‘statistics’ (informal consent, look it up.)
If someone decides it’s within their right to tell me I have to cover up my acne excessively in order to look pretty enough, I’m going to smash ten bottles of foundation and tell them to fuck off.
The next time someone tells me my ass is ‘too big’, my lips are ‘nice and voluptuous’, or my ‘hips stick out a tad’; I’m going to tell them that my body is no concern of theirs, because their opinion is no fucking concern of mine.
(This could go on forever..)
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Its taken me along time to start loving my body, i’ve made great strides over the past few months. So I think I should share it with the world :]
I just wanted to share my story with you, in hopes that maybe it could be used to help someone else.
When I was 18 years old I was involved in a severe accident that I only made it out of by the grace of God. The accident left me scarred, both physically and mentally, and it also left me struggling to re-define myself and my place on the Earth. I live with a traumatic brain injury now but, with the help of my friends and family, I am able to live a fairly normal life.
I guess you’re wondering why I’m even telling you all of this? Well, I only just came across this blog a few days ago so I don’t know how familiar you are with TBIs but, people with TBIs often have to deal with bouts of depression, some worse than others, learning disabilities, and heightened paranoia, among other issues. The depression is the worst though. I used to be fairly active but now, sometimes it’s hard for me to even leave the house. This, of course, affects my weight negatively, but I am fighting back! Over the last few weeks I decided to stop letting my TBI symptoms hold me back. I found that if I make myself, absolutely push myself, then eventually my mood turns around. I am already making positive steps towards a healthier me and much brighter future!
I guess I just wanted to come on here and say “Thank you!” for offering a safe haven like this. I’ve been in that place where it feels like everyone has turned their back on you and just need somewhere to go and I love that I have finally found somewhere safe to just be.
(Oh, I am now 24 and I’ve been married for a little over 3 years to an amazing man! I did have to drop out of college because of my injuries, but I plan on going back very soon!)
[TW: EATING DISORDER, DIETS]
At lunch during work the other day, after eating my fantastic homemade goodies, I walked into a thrift store I used to volunteer at. One of the volunteers, who I hadn’t seen in more than a year, greeted me enthusiastically with “Oh. My. God. You look so good!”
I smiled, and said “Thank you,” though I feared I knew where this was going, just hoping beyond hope that she meant my awesome new top.
“You lost so much weight! How did you do it?” She looked so thrilled.
I kept the smile firmly in place, willing myself not to wince. What this girl didn’t realize was that I had been diagnosed with irritable bowel syndrome, and the weight had not come off on purpose. I never dieted, I never tried. In fact, I actively maintained a “no diets” policy in my life because I am recovered (as much as I can ever be) from several rounds with a vicious eating disorder that put my life in danger several years ago. I actually got very panicky when I began to lose weight. My loved ones went on red alert. It was a tense, awful time. I have only just settled into a routine of eating and exercise that allows me to stay medication free and still do all the stuff I want to do.
I tried to say as gently as I could, “I was diagnosed with IBS. It just happened to me.”
Her face fell. “Oh wow! I’m so sorry, that must really suck. At least it’s not all bad – you look so great!” She went on to tell me all about diets she or people she knew were trying – I won’t go over them here because we don’t need that kind of bullshit. I just nodded awkwardly a few times and then got out of there. I don’t have the mental energy to educate everyone I meet on how their small talk is problematic.
This encounter really bothered me. I have known for a while now that I am not really fat anymore. I feel like I have lost a part of my identity. I also feel as if my body has suddenly become public domain; as if it is suddenly okay for people to comment on or talk about my size and it’s supposed acceptability. It’s not.
I also have an almost hyper-awareness of my very sudden thin privilege. There are so many things I don’t have to worry about now, even though I still do, because I am really not used to myself yet.
Further, am I suddenly more acceptable this way? NO. I loved my fat body, thank you very much. It was beautiful. I am still beautiful. That hasn’t changed, and it NEVER will, no matter what my body looks like.
So lovely people, anytime you feel the urge to congratulate someone on weight loss, shut that down. It’s not your business, and quite frankly, you don’t know the circumstances around that loss.
Hey! I’ve submitted here before, but recently, confidence has declined. I need help dealing with a mother who severely and constantly chastises my weight. She tells me she’s disgusted by how fat I am, etc etc. That I’m unhealthy and all this nonsense. I have wonderful blogs like you guys to keep me strong and positive, but how do I deal with it at home when the minute I tell her that I don’t care what she has to say on the matter she’s set off on another rampage.
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Mod Edit: Mothers can be the biggest example of “the road is paved with good intentions”. They just want you to feel beautiful, they just want you to be healthy. I know this place you are coming from very well. My mother was once my size but now she obsessively diets and would like me to do the same. For me, my best defense was ignoring her and living my life as I pleased. But for people that have a better relationship with their parents maybe a good fact based conversation would help you out.
I recently reblogged the great list Haley put together or myth-busting health issues. Check out some of those articles, arm yourself with facts so that when your mother pulls any of those silly excuses, you can have a back up without having to be online. Hell, show her this blog. Show what “healthy” really looks like and that means, healthy self love and acceptance of your body, no matter the size.
Always feel free to ask us advise. We’d be happy to answer publicly or privately. I hope this helps. :)
tw: weight loss, diet talk
[mod note: I don’t know how I feel about some of this right now but I did find it interesting and worth posting and maybe I’ll get back to it later but thank you for contributing - haley]
Hello, one year vegan with something to share.
I went vegan because I hated myself. I felt like I was the kind of person who damages others & veganism was a good place to start.
After a year being vegan, I have been influenced by a lot of propaganda, & lost sight of my ideals. Instead of being vegan as a way of practicing peace in the world, I became so frustrated with the violence & hate in this world that I used veganism as a purity shield. I started to feel the constant need to shame others, when it was I myself who should be ashamed for not being a vegan accepting of others.
In other words, I was like one of those religious types who loves all but cannot help but shame them & feel superior, thereby becoming inferior by paradoxically going against the very things they stand for…along the way hurting wonderful people & sowing seeds of animosity.
I feel like this is a good place to say I’m sorry to the world. Being vegan does not make you a wonderfully compassionate person, being a wonderfully compassionate person makes you one! I am a vegan because I care about my effect on all living, breathing creatures. And other wonderful people manifest their desire to lessen pain in the world in other ways. Further, being vegan does not make me perfect in the moral department, like everyone else I just do my best to better myself everyday.
On another note, I am applying for life insurance & trying to get a good quote. I am therefore caring for my body more than usual.
I am 5.08 & weighed 152 when I was being what is jokingly called a “junk food” vegan. This means while I may have cared about my impact on the world, I ate loads of oil & sugar. Cheap stuff like homemade cookies, & expensive stuff like pre-made vegan cheese & ice cream.
When I decided I didn’t feel very good on said-diet, I went out of my honeymoon phase with pre-made vegan goodies. I dropped to 142, a weight that has been the norm for me for the longest time. For perspective, pre-vegan I weighed 158 at the highest when I went to way too many Indian lunch buffets. I’m sure I could have made it that high on my junk food diet if I lived in NY where I could easily get fried vegan chicken everyday, & even surpass this weight.
On my current diet for the life insurance, I cut out processed oil & processed sugar, & salt losing 10lbs in two weeks without time for exercise (cheapest diet ever). And I ate as much as I wanted, dead serious. I’ve gone down to 133, now, but it has become a more gradual weight loss that takes some more effort on my part, like not eating a jar of peanut butter in one day…annnnyway, culture & the kinds of foods we tend to eat are what influence weight. Not veganism.
This is not to discount any health benefits, for instance, the fact that veganism is a zero cholesterol diet. But as far as skinny goes, it has nothing to do with ethics. It has to do with what kind of food is accessible, how much refined food we eat (in other words, if you can’t make it at home, it probably isn’t a health food, I mean, think about it: Do you have any neighbors who whip up a batch of canola oil in the kitchen? No! That’s a scientists job!), how active we are, how much we care about our health or are obsessed with a certain body image, and how genetics & physical condition balloons the effects of food and exercise or lack thereof.
I’ve seen lots of beautiful girls & boys who are big. Their diet is none of my business, nor does it say anything about them as a person.
Wow this would have been nice to see six hours ago.