fat

Some days I feel like a Botticelli, some days I feel like a sexy, dumpy baby. Even when I am naked, my frame of reference is limited. I have not seen too many positive, mainstream depictions of bodies like mine.

As we’d expect, there is no happily ever after here, at least not for Puss.

Given that the only requirement to be forced into handmaiden-hood is fertility, I find it quite strange that I have seen not one handmaid who looks to be the size of the average American woman; all of them conform to the normative body requirements of Hollywood.

I don’t remember being particularly confident about my body, I do remember thinking that I should look confident, even if I hated my thighs.

As soon as we change the subject from thin to fat, we change the conversation from concern to hostility.

*/

Beauty and body fat percentage are not mutually exclusive.

Your body shows up for you everyday. Why do you want to mold it and change it and tell it it’s ugly or fat or saggy or substandard. Why do you hate your stretchmarks? Why is your belly, deflated after childbirth, the object of such loathing? Why are the breasts that fed your kids not enough for you how they are?