Body Positive

I have to go shopping tomorrow and I’m dreading it.

Most days I am confident with how I look and how I feel, but I worry I may never be able to completely banish those thoughts about my flaws and imperfections. I know that every time you catch me focusing on my physical insecurities, you learn a lesson that could hurt you, or force you into this battle I face.

I can't solve all of this in an article. Boy if I could, I sure as heck would. What I can say is: "You aren't alone."

I am currently in Los Angeles trying to forget that the election happened.

As our lovely Editor-In-Chief jets off to a body positive retreat at #BabecampJamaica, we're following her along for a week of ocean air

There is literally weed everywhere. You know when you’re at a concert and you’re like *sniff sniff* someone’s smoking weed. Yeah. That’s all the time here. In fact, I don’t even smell weed anymore. The air is weed.

The bag of weed is the size of my forearm. I don’t know how to judge weed quantities, but Glen tells me everyone can carry two ounces. I assume that’s how much. However much, it’s A LOT. The buds are still attached to the... stalk of the plant? The branch? Whatever, the weed is on a stick. It's weed on a stick.

A bipolar, body-positive bread enthusiast with a fucked-up ankle and a history of disordered eating chronicles health, weight-loss, and garden