Matt Joseph Diaz

[CN: alcohol] Once we were in her apartment she grabbed me by the necktie, kissed me softly on the lips, told me to take my clothes off, and walked into her bedroom. Her clothing dropped to the ground piece by piece from where I stood to the bedroom — like some sort of Hansel and Gretel breadcrumb situation (if it were less creepy and filmed for Cinemax).

I feel equipped to talk about the intricacies of the body positivity movement; for with all its beauty and empowerment, there are aspects of body positivity that try to control how others view and treat their bodies. Though I understand the intention, behavior like this flies in the face of the ideals the movement is trying to create. Put simply: it's time we stop trying to police body positivity.

The “you” who opens their eyes in the morning isn’t the same “you” lays down their head in that bed that night. In those few hours of consciousness you have more exposure to life, you experience a world of compassion and cruelty that has the potential to change the trajectory of your entire life.

I promise you, people living with depression are acutely aware that things probably aren’t as bad as they could be.

Vulnerability is a sign of strength, not weakness, and those who see being open and sincere as symbols of fragility have a skewed idea of vulnerability. It takes NO strength to close yourself off from the world — to refuse to be who you are because you’re afraid of the reaction of those around you. Feeling deeply and openly, even in the face of resistance, is what takes true strength.

We met Matt a year ago when he showed us his post weight-loss body.

Success is an uphill climb, but it’s rarely a directly uphill climb. There are cliffsides and plateaus, there are points where you have to adapt and change in order to make things work. These are not steps backwards, nor are they indicative of your failure—they’re simply a byproduct of life. More often than not, this ability to work with the circumstances in order to get by will take you farther than certain “skills” ever could.

It isn't “political correctness” to ask you not to be an asshole. It isn't “censorship” to ask that you consider the basic human rights and feelings of others before spewing your toxic, hateful, inconsiderate bullshit for the world to see.

I've long considered myself a collector of failed relationships. From the girlfriend I asked out during a bar crawl and dated for eight days to the conservative Christian who thought her love was “saving me from a life of debauchery,” I actually gained a little pride from my list of failed love affairs. However, while these relationships were problematic, what made them “failures?”

As much as you want to believe people are all the same, we don’t have the luxury of being seen as the “default” in the same way white, straight, cis people often are. We don’t have the luxury of dismissing our painful history and systemic issues for the sake of everyone getting along, because we’re still in the middle of them.