Thursday, June 27, 2013

Loving your body is a socially radical act

Before last year I had never owned a two-piece bathing suit. Before this year, I had never worn, let alone owned a bikini; but after having Ten help me choose the bottoms for my newly acquired bikini*, I'm convinced I can totally rock it. I've worn the top with a sarong around my waist a couple of times, even though I was a bit afraid that I would get hollered at by a dickfart who only wants to see thin women scantily clad; or worse, that some well-meaning, but utterly bamboozled by anti-fat culture would advise me to "cover up". Yet, the only reactions I've gotten have been overwhelming approval from my partners, whose desire for me is a kind of aphrodisiac; and possibly a bit of lust or appreciation from other people. Not once has someone yelled "HEY NO ONE WANTS TO SEE THAT!" as I feared when I first put the bikini top on, but the summer is young...

Coinciding with this little adventure into wearing a tiny bathing suit, two things have been going on. One of my metamoures posted an article to an MRA blog about how fat women should be put in prison (since being fat is a choice, obviously, and people wilfully making that choice are damaging to society somehow... I didn't read the post and I won't link to it cuz that dickfart doesn't need my help with blog traffic); she was posting this as an example of why she is a Fat Acceptance activist and I agree that people like this MRA smegburger need to be countered in whatever way possible. Even if it's just by being okay with being fat. Quite frankly, my being fat is an advertisement of sorts, it says "if you think fat women belong in prison, don't date or talk to me"**.

The other thing that has been going on, that I am really troubled by, is thin women with small breasts have been saying to or near me that they feel like they don't measure up or deserve to be called a woman because of their small breasts. This bothers me, and not for the reasons you might think. My belief is that a woman is a person who identifies as a woman. She has no set shape, no set size, no set hair color, skin color, or sexual orientation. A woman is a person who wants to be a woman and I don't care if you were assigned the gender of "female" at birth or not. If you identify as a woman, then as far as I'm concerned: you are one and the discussion is over.

So then let's get back to this MRA guy who thinks fat chicks belong in prison. Shaming of fat women is a great pass-time for MRAs, they think it's great fun. But, don't forget they like to shame thin women with small tits too; and it is their shame that leads friends and aquaintances of mine to think that they don't get to be called women because they have small boobies. And let us not forget that the end goal of MRAs is really to end femininity, except as it applies to their specific maleness (read: sex), so shaming thin women and shaming fat women are just two sides of the same douchebag coin trick.

Fat women are more dangerous to these guys tho, which is why they have so much fun at our expense. A fat woman is unquestionably female, by virtue of the fact that there is more of her: more boob, more curve, more woman simply by volume. And of course, because she's fat, she obviously has appetites aside from the desire to be desired by a taintrubber who thinks her sole purpose is to get him off and then go make him a sandwich. The "make me a sandwich cunt!" fellas are scared we fat chicks will eat the sandwich and then tell them to make their own! It's preposterous and against the natural order of things! If GOD had wanted men to make their own sandwiches He would have given them thumbs. 

Thin women with small breasts are easier to control in the minds of these thumbless wonders because their femaleness is easier to hide. Pile on top of the pathological androgenizing a little gender disassociation and, hey, it's like having a dude you can fuck!*** It's okay to be a thin woman because it's easier to ignore the fact that you're a woman, that's where all of this is going: eradicating femaleness and womanliness because in the dichotomy of an MRA mind, womanliness is a direct threat to manliness. 

That's why fat chicks belong in prison. It's also why it's okay to shame thin women for having small breasts. Of course, now it's gonna fucking backfire because I'm gonna wear a bikini all summer and any MRAs who get on my tit about it are gonna be read the riot act, and maybe I will fulfill their humiliation fetish just a little bit.

Loving your body is a radical social act because there are people who think that you should hide and hate it. There are people who want to take away your ability to self-identify because of the way your body looks. There are people who want you to believe that being fat is a diagnosis, and that your life can be perfect if you just had bigger tits (both of these people want your money). There are people who want you to believe that you deserve to be shamed because you don't look like the people in the magazines, but what they don't want you to know is that the people in the goddamn magazines don't look like that either! There are people who want you to believe that in order to be a good person you have to be trying to avoid fatness, frizzy hair, pimples, sugar, carbs, and being sad; or die trying.

You are allowed to look how you look. You are allowed to define yourself, to determine for yourself what makes you feel good and what makes you look great. You are allowed to eat whatever the fuck you want*'. You are allowed to be fat or thin, have big boobs or tiny. You're allowed to be on birth control. You're allowed to wear a bikini or a burka. It's your body. You're an adult and you can do whatever you want with it!

As long as you love your body. It's the only one you have. This vessel is your only link to a world of sensual pleasures and if you're too busy torturing yourself for someone else's ideal of what you should look like, you're going to miss a lot of fun things. Food, sun, sex, swimming; putting on makeup and flirting with everyone!

But this is just my experience, my observations. I want other people to come to their own conclusions about it. I trust you.
*His preference was "less is better", and I realized that one must always take with them a person who likes seeing them naked when one hunts for bathing suits. It's so much less humiliating and nerve-wracking that way.
**Also, "no I will not beat you and make you call me mommy while you masturbate".
***Because obviously fucking an actual dude is disgusting. 
*'I'm not going to place an "unless you're allergic caveat", because part of being an adult is dealing with the consequences of your actions. If you are allergic to a food and eating it makes you feel shitty AND you don't like feeling shitty, or the shittiness overshadows your enjoyment of said food: don't eat it. However, if your enjoyment of that food is greater than the effect it has on you, do whatever. I don't care. Chances are pretty good I'm not your mother.

Sunday, June 9, 2013

Stages of grief

It is generally accepted that there are a number of Stages of Grief:
  • Denial
  • Anger
  • Bargaining
  • Shopping
  • Depression
  • Acceptance

What? Shopping is totally a stage of grieving! I know cuz I'm in it! I have grieved a number of times in my life, and each time there's a period of mourning where I spend money like I have it. I'm sure it started when my grandad died, and my mom inherited some cash and set the example*, but the first time I really remember grief-shopping was when Josh and I broke up I went to my mom and said, "Mommy, Josh dumped me, I wanna go shopping." At this point, shopping became a coping mechanism. Now, however, I'm surprised I haven't completely gone off the deep end!

I'm still pretty wrecked by my dad's death, but years of only having enough cash to get by have put me into a mindset where I'm a little more careful with it than I used to be. And while none of the things I've purchased will replace my dad (nor are they intended to), I can justify spending this money because I earned it. I earned it hard. And while I've often joked about getting my car "the old fashioned way"**, this new revenue stream came in the REAL old fashioned way.

We all grieve differently. My siblings are taking it differently than I am, and differently than each other. I know we're going to become closer through this, because we're all each of us has left of Dad. I love my siblings, and I wish we were already closer than we are, but there's still time for that. Me living in SnoCo hasn't exactly helped things either, but since I'm moving back to Seattle (and my sister & her mom are going to be moving slightly north for her to go to college), maybe we'll see each other more. Hopefully we'll see each other more. Madame K works in Seattle afterall, me living there would just give us extra reasons to get together I hope. I'm sure pulling family closer is a stage of grieving too.
*It's called parenting.
**Starts with a b and ends with a job... also, not actually my car.

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

"real life could never measure up to my imagination"

When I was in high school, my theme song was "The Lifeboat Mutiny" by the Cherry Poppin Daddies, and the key phrase comes in at the end with the protagonist lamenting how "real life could never measure up" to her imagination. As an emo teenager this stuck out to me as being completely true. But what I neglected to realize until more than a decade later is that life is infinitely more exciting, interesting, unpredictable, and satisfying than I was asking it to be by expecting that the limits of my imagination be realized. Life isn't a movie. It's better.

Had life been so courteous as to reflect my fantasies at the time, l would be married to Josh, (now dead), and have borne him a daughter. Never could I have imagined the actual life that I am actually living at 28. It turns out that Life had a lot better things planned out for me, all I had to do was keep breathing in order to find out just how wildly mistaken l had been about my expectations.

It turns out this is a theme for many of the people in my life. l doubt Dame would ever have envisioned Toolmaker, And I know Ten had never imagined me, (we've even had that conversation recently). So why do we bother? The people coming into and out of our lives are way more interesting and sexy and meet way more of our needs than the two-dimensional characters we fantasize about. Now whether that fantasy comes in the form of day dreams, lousy expectations that life be like movies and love songs; or if we just roll through life thinking that it's all going according to some crazy plan, the idea that we have control, or that we should be able to have control is laughably small-minded. Yes, the things we do have consequences. And no, there's nothing wrong with having a plan for what you want to happen in your life, but being too attached to specifics means you're going to miss something, or someone, very important.

Allow me to illustrate this point a little more universally: Star Trek TNG. The show was made in the early 90s, and the creators of this fabulous scifi show imagined the most advance computers they thought possible for the 24th century, but the device into which I an currently inputting my thoughts, (along with the one that you are reading them from), is light years ahead of even the most imaginative tech on Star Trek. Point is, when you rely only on imagination to create your future, you're going to miss out.

Anti-fragility, a concept I've written about before, encourages us to be flexible. Expect to be disappointed. Expect small failures so you can figure out where the bugs are and fix them before the small fractures lead to catastrophic failure. Beyond that, be grateful for the tiny annoyances... be glad life doesn't meet all of your expectations, because then you know you're living and not dreaming.