[My main Tumblr can be found over at myasphyxiatedmind]
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My name is: Michelle, but most people call me Dark online.
My gender-pronouns are: They/them/their.
I am: 27 years old, a feminist, an atheist, an omnivore, and an ISFJ.
The Feminist: Intersectional, body positive, pro-choice, and sex positive.
My privileged identities include: Female assigned at birth (FAAB trans* privilege), white, able-bodied, allistic (?), dyadic, monogamous.
My non-privileged/oppressed identities include: Gender-fluid, fat, gray-a, neuroatypical, and gay.
I have: Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Major Depressive Disorder, Dermatophagia, and Dermatillomania.
I like: Pets & animals, animal welfare, pet care & pet care education, ~*SCIENCE!*~, anatomy & physiology, roleplaying, anime/manga, computer & video games, rock & metal music.
Anti-fatness is humiliating.
It makes strangers hate you. It makes people that you don’t know feel as though they’re allowed to tell your their opinions about what goes in and on your body.
When you’re a fat woman and walk into a store, a sales clerk will automatically walk up to you and say, “We don’t have a plus-size section here.” You did not come in for clothes. You came in for jewelry. You came in for shoes. You came in for a friend, a sibling, or just to walk through.
Anti-fatness causes your male friends to not date you for a variety of bullshit excuses and reasons that can range from, “I see you as a sister/just a friend/one of the guys” to “I’m just not into that.” But as soon as you show an inkling of losing weight, they’re encouraging and suddenly attracted to you.
Being fat, to some people, is enough to warrant their opinions on your body.
“You shouldn’t wear that. That’s not flattering at all.”
“That color doesn’t go with your…body type.”
“That cut’s way too low for you. Try another.”
It ranges from the gentle patronizing sales clerk to the blatant asshole waitstaff asking if you really need dessert.
And I’m fucking sick of it.
I’m sick of playing nicey-nice with the girls at the department stores. I’m sick of faux-smiling and laughing at the “helpful suggestions” of different sizes, different colors, different styles, different stores.
I’m sick of arguing with my waiter that I really do want a fucking piece of cake. I’m sick of being forced to tip this rude, intrusive asshole.
I’m sick of being praised for “healthier choices” and being psuedo-complimented.
“You’re getting a salad? Good for you!”
“Ordering water? Great. I have to stop drinking soda, too! Sooooo many calories, right?”
“It’s so good to see you working out and taking control of your health!”
“You know, you’re really pretty for a fat girl.”
“You could be a plus-size model!”
After trying on clothes that are plain street clothes: “Ooh, sexy! Go get ‘em!”
“I bet if you lost some weight, you’d be even cuter.”
Bless these know-nothing dum-dums. They think they’re being kind and supportive. They think they’re stopping me from hating myself or killing myself.
You just make me want to smother you with this “dangerous,” “evil,” “lazy,” “unhealthy,” “life-threatening” fat.
because we do not stand for your misogynistic,
racist, objectifying, “traditional” standards of beauty.
because sometimes, a donut is just the only way to end a day.
because it’s not an illness we need to be cured of.
because all bodies are beautiful bodies,
but different people are comfortable in different ways.
because the only way to wear leopard print spandex
is when it covers as much surface area as possible.
because we just don’t care.
because some of us have been told that’s the only way
to not get “unwanted attention”.
because our mothers were fat too.
because we got picked last for gym.
because queen latifah is fucking fierce.
because we’ve never been anything else.
because we found our favourite dress in a thrift store,
and it was six sizes too big.
because it doesn’t matter how much salad we eat,
sometimes, people are just fat.
because we love our bodies.
because we hate our bodies.
because we are.
This made me smile, hardcore.
hey guys, just a quick reminder
it is not ANTI-bodyposi to have a bad day
you are not a bad person for waking up and going “man, i do not feel pretty today.”
it is not hypocritical of you to love fat bodies and promote fat acceptance but then sometimes look in the mirror and wish you were a little thinner
everybody has bad days and it’s harder for some people than others to stay positive about their bodies
your feelings are valid even if they might be distorted by all the bullshit we’re fed and you are allowed to feel them
i know a lot of people struggle with thoughts like “i think body acceptance is really good and important but it’s hard for me to accept my own body”
those two feelings are not mutually exclusive and it’s okay to feel them both at the same time
the reason this community is here is to help you work through those latter feelings until you get to a point where you have way more good days than bad days
so don’t ever feel bad or like you’re a hypocrite or a bad advocate just because some days you are not feeling too great about your butt or your tummy or your teeth