Melissa A. Fabello

"Just like sitting with your negative feelings, looking at the body that you’re unhappy with puts you in the position of being the boss of your situation. It’s a way of reminding the voices in your head that you are the one in charge here — and that the smallest shift in thought or intent can turn your whole day around."

Dirty talk takes practice, but practice makes perfect. And watching your partner orgasm over video is almost as satisfying as it is in real life. I promise.

Uh, in case you haven’t noticed, the body acceptance movement has a bit of a body rejection problem. Namely, anyone who isn’t a thin, white, able-bodied, straight, middle class, cisgender woman gets left out of the movement altogether — which, in my opinion, isn’t very accepting.

And as much as I’m a Swifty, I’m a feminist first (a white one, by the way, at that), and I’m not here for any kind of feminism that would excuse, for instance, Taylor’s misunderstanding that race is irrelevant in pop culture politics (a la the feud with Nicki Minaj that never was).

Being a person with a presence on the Internet is . . . weird. It fills your life with a lot of — well — weirdness. Being a feminist with a presence on the Internet is even worse – besides the general weirdness, there’s also a lot of backlash.

"Because diet culture is so ingrained in our society, and therefore our psyches, a common misconception about eating disorders – and particularly those of the restricting and purging varieties – is that they’re choices that people make with the end goal of losing weight."

I’m a big proponent of teaching our loved ones how, during the holidays, to be gentle with our eating disorders (both in recovery and out).

". . . guess what! Despite, again, what the media tells you, breasts come in a huge variety of shapes! Most natural breasts are affected by gravity and seem to sag a little bit, rather than perking up like they might in a bra. Most nipples fall downward (so, ya know, potential babies can reach them), rather than face forward."

And so I slid the scale to the back of my closet, started freely eating doughnuts when I craved doughnuts, and simply donated the jeans that stopped fitting instead of holding out hope for them.

Right now, today, as of writing this, I identify as queer. But I didn’t always.