From the bottom of my always-a-fat-girl heart:

I used to really feel that I was alone in my always-a-fat-girlness. And always-a-fat-girlness isn’t simply about how big I’ve always been. It’s a mindset, more than anything else. And a mindset that’s been set for years and years of messages, at home, in the world, in the media, etc. that the body I occupy was not good enough, and thus, I was not.

Please believe me when I tell you that being told constantly that you are not good enough to be simply because you are how you are is a tremendous mind fuck. Add to that being a baby. And then a toddler. And then a young girl. And then a young lady. And then ultimately a thirty-something lady. Compounded over the years, the message has been digested. It has made me who I am.

And yes, I get that the messages come from other people’s projections of me – their own insecurities, whatever. Not to be taken personally. I get that. But fuck.

And I get that all kinds of people are given the same message, fat or not. I get that too.

But this is about me and my shit. And my shit is rooted in the always-a-fat-girlness. In the “oh you’d be so pretty if you lost X lbs”-ness. In the “I won’t marry you unless you’re a size 12”-ness (yes, this was my life at a time).

(That last part, by the way, is why I haven’t written or coached in some time. Because I had to let go of him, heal from him, and heal from all the shit that led me to believe that I should be committed to someone who wanted me to be someone else before he could commit.)

And I have been in catharsis and conscious affirmation mode since I stopped writing and coaching. But. Did it mean that the message that I’m not good enough just disappear? Of course not. But I’ve been fighting against my own internal messages for a few years now.

The results include the following:

  • Walking a runway this past February
  • And recently, feeling good enough about myself to rock this crop top and skirt while at Jane’s Carousel (portfolio shoot!)

Here I am, showing a few faces of “omg I so love my body”-ness and yet still somewhat lamenting my 45″ waist, as of yesterday morning. Pretty pics aside, I’m only just LEARNING to love my body. Still learning. Takes time. Learning that I deserve love and my body deserve love. That we are both (spirit and body) made from love. That I deserve the greatest love and that love begins with me. Still learning.

So I totally resisted going to CurvyCon this past weekend. Thought to, and thought myself out of it, feeling like I could not be in the room with those who got that love-your-body-ness down pat. But I couldn’t escape it, and then could not escape the following video this weekend; I acted as if it wasn’t all over my social media timelines. I caved just now and I’m currently in tears of joy and sadness. Please watch.

I get that this is an ad for clothing but it’s more than that. As I watched this, I remembered all the times when I really felt like I was not worth the space I occupied in this world, because of the amount of space I physically occupy. I also remembered that time I hopped on a horse on Jane’s Carousel in a crop top and only thought whether my photographer got a good angle of me. I thought of ALL that I’ve been through because of this body. All the good and bad. All the pain. All the ecstasy. I’m sad and grateful and mournful and joyous all at once.

I’m amazing. I am more than “good enough.” I’m great.

And I’m not alone in this. There’s a whole crew of us that’s just here learning to love ourselves despite what we’ve been told about ourselves. And this struggle… it’s not just about fatness. This particular blog post and the tears behind it though – it is about fatness.

And things around here (the website) will look different. Changes to come. More writing, as I’ve been doing a lot of writing to myself. Time to share.

I just really needed to let this out, publicly.

And from the bottom of my always-a-fat-girl heart:

H  E  R  E    I    A  M.

Thank you.

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