i hate remembering good times that i had with people who ended up being really shitty to me
If you can pin me down in bed and hold my hand at dinner then you basically meet my standards
That’s probably the scariest feeling ever though. Feeling like you don’t even have control of your own body.
But, even if you’re not fat, if you’re a woman, you’re probably still so caught up with your toxic weight shit that you can’t even see straight. During my working life I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been part of these ridiculous workplace group diets. Almost all of the participants have been women. Sometimes they even try to bribe one another with money. They all put in ten dollars on the first week and whoever loses the most wins the pool at the end of 4 months, or whatever it is. Look, I’m like you. I’ve done it too. And at a perfectly normal, healthy weight I’ve done it. All because of a sick, shitful, ugly little voice in the back of my head that tells me I ought to be smaller.
And that’s the rub, right there. Exactly why do we want to be smaller? What exactly is the appeal of being smaller? How does it benefit us? Does it make us better mothers? Better students? Better lovers? Better artists? Scientists? Friends? Does it make us more badass badasses?
No, no, no, no, no. You must see that it doesn’t. It doesn’t do anything but make us smaller.
Babies and puppies are small. So are dimes and Skittles. You’re a fucking woman. A woman! You are entitled to occupy as much fucking space as you like with your awesomeness, and you better be suspicious as fuck of anybody who tells you differently.
Why, ladies? Why must we continue to whittle ourselves down? Who is it for? What is it for? You can walk through a certain aisle at the pharmacy or at the grocery store and see the language of diminishment all over the packaging for weight loss aids of all kinds. “Shrink your waist.” “Lose inches off your thighs.” “Slim down.” “Get skinny.”
How about “Grow your mind.” “Increase your confidence and productivity.” “Beef up your knowledge.” “Enlarge your scope of asskicking.”
That’s a valid message for women and girls: grow, expand, branch out, open up, get bigger, wider, faster, stronger, better, smarter. Go up not down. Get strong, not skinny.
You are not here to get smaller. You are not here to have a thin waist and thighs. You are not here to disappear. You’re here to change the world! Change the fucking world, then! Forget about “losing a few pounds.” Think about what you could be gaining instead.
I went to a Drake concert with my friend this weekend and we were on the floor, row nine. There were tons of flashing lights and I hardly remember anything. All I know is that I thought I was going to pass out and I had to sit down. The rest of the night was a blur. I woke up fully clothed with my shoes on and everything, and I felt like my head was going to explode. At first I thought it was a hangover, but I hardly drank anything that night. On my way home my eye was twitching and I had to pull over on the interstate to throw up.
I think I might have had another seizure. I had stopped worrying about things that trigger seizure activity in my brain like flashing lights, caffeine, sleep deprivation, etc. because I thought I had nothing to worry about anymore, but all the symptoms add up. Every time I’ve had one in my sleep I’ve gotten sick in the morning and can’t remember a thing from the night before.
I don’t even know what to think.