Melissa A. Fabello

And as much as I’m a Swifty, I’m a feminist first (a white one, by the way, at that), and I’m not here for any kind of feminism that would excuse, for instance, Taylor’s misunderstanding that race is irrelevant in pop culture politics (a la the feud with Nicki Minaj that never was).

I finally looked at my syllabus today. It’s been sitting in my inbox for over a week, flashing at me to find out what I have to look forward to this upcoming fall semester – which books I need to buy (and how much money I’m going to drop on them), how many assignments I’ll be graded on, what I need to have prepared before our first class meeting.

Being a person with a presence on the Internet is . . . weird. It fills your life with a lot of — well — weirdness. Being a feminist with a presence on the Internet is even worse – besides the general weirdness, there’s also a lot of backlash.

Right now, today, as of writing this, I identify as queer. But I didn’t always.

I’m a big proponent of teaching our loved ones how, during the holidays, to be gentle with our eating disorders (both in recovery and out).

"A common response that folks struggling with eating disorders hear is something along the lines of “Just eat,” “Just stop purging,” or “Just stop overeating.” And that’s akin to telling someone with depression to “Cheer up” or someone with anxiety to “Calm down.” That is: It’s not effective. At all. It’s actually kind of offensive."

I can already tell that you’re a good partner. The fact that you’re asking about this and reading this article proves that. So remind your partner that they’re a good partner, too — exactly what you need and want and love, body and all.

You. Are. Amazing. And I mean that. I want to commend you for all of the hard work that you’re doing to put yourself in a place that feels healthy and happy. And even if you feel like you’re not doing much, you’re clearly doing something by reading this in the first place.

And so I slid the scale to the back of my closet, started freely eating doughnuts when I craved doughnuts, and simply donated the jeans that stopped fitting instead of holding out hope for them.