So in summation: Fat. Awesome.

Two great videos popped up on facebook today--of young women talking about fat.

It Gets Fatter - Health & Fatness from It Gets Fatter on Vimeo.

The brain, she breaks

I've tried three or four times now to describe what the Prince concert meant to me, and I haven't succeeded. I think I need a bloggy break. But instead of leaving bloggy empty I'll try to find some little flowers to plant in it. Here's one that was posted on a friend's facebook.

real women

Excuse me while I throw this down, I’m old and cranky and tired of hearing the idiocy repeated by people who ought to know better.

Real women do not have curves.   Real women do not look like just one thing.

Real women have curves, and not.   They are tall, and not.  They are brown-skinned, and olive-skinned, and not.  They have small breasts, and big ones, and no breasts whatsoever.

Real women start their lives as baby girls.  And as baby boys.  And as babies of indeterminate biological sex whose bodies terrify their doctors and families into making all kinds of very sudden decisions.

Real women have big hands and small hands and long elegant fingers and short stubby fingers and manicures and broken nails with dirt under them.

Real women have armpit hair and leg hair and pubic hair and facial hair and chest hair and sexy moustaches and full, luxuriant beards.  Real women have none of these things, spontaneously or as the result of intentional change.  Real women are bald as eggs, by chance and by choice and by chemo.

 Real women have hair so long they can sit on it.  Real women wear wigs and weaves and extensions and kufi and do-rags and hairnets and hijab and headscarves and hats and yarmulkes and textured rubber swim caps with the plastic flowers on the sides.

Real women wear high heels and skirts.  Or not.

Real women are feminine and smell good and they are masculine and smell good and they are androgynous and smell good, except when they don’t smell so good, but that can be changed if desired because real women change stuff when they want to.

Real women have ovaries.  Unless they don’t, and sometimes they don’t because they were born that way and sometimes they don’t because they had to have their ovaries removed.  Real women have uteruses, unless they don’t, see above.  Real women have vaginas and clitorises and XX sex chromosomes and high estrogen levels, they ovulate and menstruate and can get pregnant and have babies. Except sometimes not, for a rather spectacular array of reasons both spontaneous and induced.

Real women are fat.  And thin.  And both, and neither, and otherwise.  Doesn’t make them any less real.

There is a phrase I wish I could engrave upon the hearts of every single person, everywhere in the world, and it is this sentence which comes from the genius lips of the grand and eloquent Mr. Glenn Marla:

There is no wrong way to have a body.

I’m going to say it again because it’s important: There is no wrong way to have a body.

And if your moral compass points in any way, shape, or form to equality, you need to get this through your thick skull and stop with the “real women are like such-and-so” crap.

You are not the authority on what “real” human beings are, and who qualifies as “real” and on what basis.  All human beings are real.

Yes, I know you’re tired of feeling disenfranchised.  It is a tiresome and loathsome thing to be and to feel.  But the tit-for-tat disenfranchisement of others is not going to solve that problem.  Solidarity has to start somewhere and it might as well be with you and me.

From Hanne Blank blog

Watch Out! we're all works in progress and picking up steam

I collect self-help songs, I thought I would post one. Soothe everyone after kicking them in the shins with stilletos yesterday. ;-)

 

This is "Camouflage" by Brandy. I mentioned it awhile back, but I think it was new and not yet on youtube. I love it because it's about 1. telling off the person who's ragging on your flaws, 2. accepting your flaws, and 3. it contains the usual images about blossoming, but also unusual images about growing into your power. "I'm a storm that's rising, and getting stronger with every hour." Hmm. A storm usually means trouble! Heh heh. I like it.



I'm a work in progress, I'm a seed grown into a flower
I'm a storm that's rising and getting stronger with every hour
And God knows I ain't perfect, tell me who in the world is?
All I know is that I'm searching for somebody to love me with

These flaws I've got, they're all part of who I am
Take me or not, but I finally understand
I'm so done trying to be everything you want
And I have to stop 'cause baby, you ain't worth it
If I gotta camouflage, for love, for love
No, I won't camouflage, for love, for love, I won't camouflage

I need a lot of improvement, not even half way to destiny
But I'm a train that's moving and everyday I'm picking up speed
And God knows you ain't perfect
So who are you to put pressure on me?
That's why I'm still searching for somebody to love me with

These flaws I've got, they're all apart of who I am
Take me or not, but I finally understand
I'm so done trying to be everything you want
'Cause I have to stop, 'cause baby, you ain't worth it
If I gotta camouflage, for love, for love
No, I won't camouflage, for love, for love, I won't camouflage

I've learned from my mistakes
The only way you're gonna be happy
Is if someone's down to take
Here when it's good and it's bad you see
I tried giving half of me, in the end I came up empty
And that's why I'm searching, yeah
For somebody to love me with these flaws

These flaws I've got, they're all part of who I am
Take me or not, but I finally understand
And I'm so done trying to be everything you want
'Cause I have to stop, 'cause baby, you ain't worth it
If I gotta camouflage

These flaws I've got, they're a part of who I am
Take me or not, but I finally understand
And I'm so done trying to be everything you want
When I have to stop, 'cause baby, you ain't worth it
I've gotta camouflage

For love, for love, no, I won't camouflage
For love, for love, I won't camouflage
If I gotta camouflage, 'cause baby, you ain't worth it
If I gotta camouflage
Baby, you ain't worth it, if I gotta camouflage