Virgie Tovar

In the wake of America's "crisis of adulthood" and in the middle of a city known for Peter Pan Syndrome, I find myself feeling that I too have gotten an extension on my adolescence. It has become a time for me to heal, center myself in a way I never could in childhood, and figure out what I want for my life.

The other night, I was eating capellini with asparagus and shrimp with a new friend/Babecamp Jamaica alum.

A lot of people don’t know this, but fat activism has been around in the United States since the 1960s. Yes, it’s true!

It all started with a text from my roomie, Kori: "I am manifesting lying out, and getting some sun on my cooch."

My jaw clenches in judgmental discomfort whenever I think of any event with "BBW" in the title. To me, the term "BBW" is coded. When I hear that word, my eyes begin a preemptive roll as the keywords "heteronormativity," "hookup," "gendered labor," "mansplaining," and "ugh" scroll past the neon pink kiosk in my brain.

The first time I heard about the #DropThePlus campaign I was of two minds.

Fat positivity creates room for fat people to be seen with full humanity — not as failed thin people, but as complete and precious.

One of my yearly rituals is making a list of things I’ve learned in the past year. So, I thought I would make public the list of things I’ve learned, and rather than just focus on one year, I thought I’d share my most important lessons from all the years I have been on this sacred poo-ball called earth.

I think there’s a special kind of burden placed on stigmatized people to pretend that everything is A-Okay. Would I be smiling if I was oppressed? Heck no.

This year has been a real paradigm shift year for my arm fat, and I’d like to offer you 4 reasons to join me in public wobbly ecstasy: free your arm fat!