self-image

It’s a hard body to live in at times. But I live here. I wake up here and I go to sleep here. I go on vacation here and I wear a bikini here. I walk the streets here. I turn heads — and not in the way that people want to turn heads. I haul my fat ass up on my beach cruiser here. I take the criticism, the emails, the comments, and whatever other unpleasantries come with living in this body.

When you hear the buzzwords “body shame” or “body positivity,” it's common to think those phrases only apply to those who have a little extra junk in the trunk, but a huge demographic is excluded the conversation when it takes that cliché Christina Aguilera “We are Beautiful” turn.

“You’re fat and ugly,” I’d hear, or, “Look at your stomach, it’s disgusting!” This wasn’t a neighborhood bully taunting me on my way to school — this is what I said to myself all day long, well into adulthood.

When we write articles about body image, we often speak in the abstract about big ideas and how we approach social interaction — but how exactly does one become body positive? What are the nuts and bolts that’ll lead you to a more positive sense of self, both physically and emotionally?

[CN: body dysmorphia] Sensory deprivation provided me with a way to relate to my body that was rooted in acceptance: This is me, this is what I feel like, and this is all OK.

I am NOT saying that clean eating in and of itself is bad. I am saying that clean eating becomes bad when people confuse morality with it… which they often do: “I’m good if I eat 'clean' and I’m bad if I don’t.”

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.