So Wrong…

So Wrong...

I looked to the internet for inspiration on how to love the LARGE body I currently inhabit at the age of 43, and THIS is what I get… Ways to “improve” it…

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Hi, I’m back…

I know I don’t blog much, maybe I think I’m a bit too old to be keeping an online journal. Maybe not… I want to type my feelings about things, and, NO, I do not care if this ever gets read, I am only using this as a means to vent about life in general.  Some days, I am able to act as if I don’t suffer from crippling social anxiety (I even actually speak to strangers on the bus, occasionally), other days, all I want to do is stay home and surf Facebook, or browse Netflix because the thought of attempting to socialize seems as daunting as the thought of climbing Mt. Everest without any gear, not that I’d attempt mountain climbing (I’m afraid of heights, among other things…) I was using that only as a sort of analogy to illustrate my point of dealing with social anxiety. I guess, I am writing this because I feel I am much better at writing my thoughts than I am at actually speaking them. I have in my mind a LOT of things I would like to verbalize, yet when I attempt to do this, my thoughts go out from under me, and I stumble around like a drunk after an all night bender trying to find my words and voice. So, this is my way of getting my thoughts and feelings out so I don’t end up any crazier than I already am. I tend to bottle these things  up inside until I have a meltdown of epic proportions. I had one such episode a few days ago, I threw stuff all over the place, screamed a lot, and then fell in a sobbing heap onto my bed… Why?? I have NO clue why I do this sometimes. One such episode like the one described above, led me to attempt suicide in 2008 by OD-ing on prescription pain pills. This I did because I thought life was going too well, and I didn’t want to hang around long enough to watch it crash and burn… AGAIN…  Which, sadly, it did… AGAIN… But that’s a story for a different blog entry… See Ya 4 now…

Marilyn Monroe and Me

Dances With Fat

These amazing pictures of Marilyn Monroe and me were sent anonymously as a gift.  I wish I knew who to give the credit to, thank you whoever you are!  The pictures of me were taken as part of a photo shoot with Richard Sabel. EDIT:  I thought these were a gift but it turns out that they were made by haters to try to make fun of me.  I think that they are still a great gift and that this one is a epic fail from my haters.

Me and Marilyn Monroe side by side

Me and Marilyn Monroe overlay

I. Love. These. Pictures.  I love that they show two people with very different bodies enjoying similar movement.  Of course, movement is not an obligation or a barometer of worthiness. and obviously I can’t speak for Ms. Monroe, but for me this picture is about my joy of embodiment.

I know that Marilyn Monroe is often used as an icon for…

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Me…

I am a 43 year old woman who has had weight issues her entire life. In my teens I would starve myself till I was skin & bones and people told me I was “pretty”, and that I had done a “good job” of losing weight. I was bulimic as well, for when I’d get hungry, I’d eat and eat until I felt full, then I would race to the bathroom and rid myself of the “evil” calories before they had a chance to ruin my “good work”… Didn’t want people to think I was getting FAT. I was all about trying to be what society is conditioned to believe was “beautiful”, thin, face made up with all kinds of products designed to give a “natural” look, trendy clothing and shoes, no matter how utterly uncomfortable it may have been, as long as it LOOKED good. I was all about being something I never was, all in a desperate bid to “fit in”, to be liked.  Then I figured something out: I AM AN INDIVIDUAL, I have my own thoughts, feelings, beliefs… I also figured out that I really should not follow along with what I do not believe in, just to be accepted… I figured this all out as recently (Better late than never, right??) as 7 years ago, when I uprooted myself from the only place I’d ever called home, Royal Oak, MI, and moved to California. This was a very insane, spontaneous move on the part of someone who was, till that time, a VERY staid homebody (I spent much of my time helping my Mom, as she was disabled due to MS, so I did not get out often). In explanation… 2006:My Mother (RIP) had recently suffered a massive stroke, and she was no longer able to care for herself. I unfortunately had no choice but to allow my uncle (Mom’s conservator) to place her in a nursing home.  This left me with a problem. I could no longer afford the mortgage on the home I shared with Mom. With our home in foreclosure, I was homeless for a short time until my best friend, who had moved to CA months earlier, invited me to come live with him. I’ve been a CA resident since November 2006. I’ve only returned to MI once, in 2007, for the funeral of my Mom.  It is when I became a Californian that I started to realize that I could finally start to figure myself out. I realized that I had no need to conform to societal standards of what is “normal”.  I dyed my hair hot pink, reignited my love of Punk Rock music, and found it to be VERY liberating to rip off the mask of “normalcy” and discover new things about myself (or maybe even old things about myself that I had forgotten over the years…). I am also no longer afraid to tell the world that I’m an atheist, and that I’m bisexual. I’m only being honest, and also being ME. I went vegetarian back in 2012, and transitioned to vegan the following year after viewing a VERY eye opening documentary called “Earthlings” (Look it up on YouTube…). With the fact that I became a vegan having been said, I will also mention that I am FAT. 237 lbs to be exact at the moment. I only have one pet peeve about when I tell a stranger that I’m vegan, and that is when I casually mention it in a conversation, I get looked at as if my head’s on backwards and a reply of “YOU’RE vegan???” followed by “REALLY??” and then there’s the ever classic “OMG! I thought ALL vegans were skinny!!”  My peeve lies not with the actual verbal responses themselves, but with the fact that if I were super skinny and mentioned that I’m vegan, I wouldn’t get nearly as much shock and disbelief over my choice to go vegan. My desire to live as cruelty free as I possibly can is seen as somehow being “weird” or even “radical”, and I don’t care how I seem to the neighbors, it’s my choice to live the rest of my life as I see fit.  I have nobody to answer to for my lifestyle choices but me, myself, and I from now on, and that’s just how I like it.