Adiba Nelson

Adiba Nelson

Bio

Adiba Nelson currently resides in Tucson, AZ with her fiancee, 6 year old daughter, and 2 teenage stepsons-to-be. When she is not advocating for disability rights, performing burlesque, or writing her monthly style column, she is busy managing social media for her local Easter Seals affiliate. She is also the author of the children's book Meet ClaraBelle Blue, and is currently working on the follow up book, ClaraBelle's Big Discovery. You can find Adiba at http://thefullnelson.net/

Adiba Nelson Articles

She's Sitting Pretty

"I now had my seat of power, my throne, if you will. That’s why I customized my chair to look like a throne. And that’s why I liked it in my act: because I was truly in love with it and all that it represented for me. It was no longer a trap or a cage. It was freedom. It was power. It was sexy. And it was mine."

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I'm A Black Woman And I Don’t Want A Black Son

"I will peer relentlessly into every cop car I pass with a young black man in it, stretching my neck to make sure that it’s not my son who’s been arrested for driving while black, walking while black, or breathing while black. I will hold my breath while listening to every news report of another black man that has been arrested, beaten, killed, and made an example of."

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There is only one, beautiful, sparkly diamond like you in this world. Just one. Image: DalaHawk.

The End Of Black History Month: You Do You, I'm Doing Me

Let me tell you something, ladies. There are a million people in this world ready to tear you down at any given moment, for reasons they know, and reasons they don’t know. They will all but sell the blood of their firstborn child to make sure you know that they think you ain’t shit.

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Just scream. Let it out. It feels really fucking good!

10 Things I Did To Recover From My Divorce

Want to go on a carbs and wine tour of Italy? Break out the leggings and go for it. This time is yours.

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Eau de...Black Woman. Yep.

Eau De...Black Woman?

Apparently, we Black women have a smell. And it’s been bottled and labeled and is being offered up for consumption by Sunflower Cosmetics. Yep. You read that right. There is a legitimate company out there who is selling a perfume called “Black Women.” If my girlfriend hadn’t posted a picture of it in a local shop, I would have called her a damn liar.

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Pictured: real women.

Ain't I A Real Woman?

It’s insane the number of ways people want to pigeonhole, categorize, and ultimately TEAR DOWN women. What’s even worse is that we, as women, buy into it. We run around in T-shirts that say “Real Women Do XYZ” or “Real Women ARE XYZ.” We post these memes and quotes and think they’re funny, but what are we really doing?

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Jes Baker: Cool Human, Author Of Things No One Will Tell Fat Girls

This book is real, folks. As well it should be –– it was written by one of the realest women on the planet.

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Fit. Fat. Fly as f#ck.

Can You Be Fit AND Fat?

Being a body positive/body acceptance activist means that regardless of WHAT shape my body takes at any given point and time in my life, I love it. I am kind to it. I remember that it has the right to love and adoration, first from myself, and then from my man. I remember that all bodies, those bigger than and those smaller than mine, are entitled to the same, and they are no better or worse than my own.

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“Donald, I see your bigotry and raise you... wait for it... XENOPHOBIA!”

Dear Ted Cruz, Let's Talk About "Gang Activity"

So, by your reasoning, it’s safe to say that we should go into areas where one group of people are thought to be terrorizing another group of people, round up the terrorizers, and get them off the streets. OK, cool. I see your proposal, and I raise you “history."

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Donuts. Tempting.

My Name Is Adiba Nelson, And I Am A Food Addict

This was how my eating disorder began. This is when I first consciously ate my emotions. THIS is when I said, “I don’t need you to love me. I don’t need to love myself. I don’t need to feel or be felt. Hear or be heard. See or be seen. I just need to eat. I just need to eat because food will never judge me. Food will never leave me (unless I make it leave me, which I did. In college. A LOT.).

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