It's all About Me (Explicit Langage to Follow)
I am not sure how this will come across, but I feel I need to get it out there. (Yes, strong language.)
I am done with this. I am finished and bidding a fond farewell. I am tired of body shaming myself through, and allowing myself to feel like shit because of, what other people think is 'ideal'. It's fucking stupid.
Size, weigh, caloric intake... it's all bull shit.
I will not ever be, and do not want to be, a size 6 (or even 8, or 10). I am happy being a size 14, (sometimes 16, depends on the clothing).
Look at me! Do I look "fat"?
Nope... Because I'm not!
What I used to look was unhappy.
Well, fuck that shit!
I haven't felt that way in a long while. I am pretty happy these days. I like the way I look. I like the way I feel.
I'm tired of people making me feel like an ass because I want a fucking cookie. I like fucking cookies! Over the course of 4 days I ate a package of Pepperidge Farm Mint Milanos that my Mother In Law put in my Christmas stocking! And they were fucking AMAZING!
So, here I am. 178 pounds, a size 14 dress, a 33inch waste to my 5'6" frame. I have the endurance to skate 30 laps in 5 minutes, can run 1.5 miles in 17 minutes (I hate running), I can kick someones ass (but I abhor unnecessary violence for no reason) and I am happy.
Can you say you're happy?
I am done with this. I am finished and bidding a fond farewell. I am tired of body shaming myself through, and allowing myself to feel like shit because of, what other people think is 'ideal'. It's fucking stupid.
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Image fromhttp://www.glamour.com;Weight Stereotyping |
I will not ever be, and do not want to be, a size 6 (or even 8, or 10). I am happy being a size 14, (sometimes 16, depends on the clothing).
Look at me! Do I look "fat"?
![]() |
| Photo: Matt Norris, http://www.mgnorris.com/ |
What I used to look was unhappy.
Well, fuck that shit!
I haven't felt that way in a long while. I am pretty happy these days. I like the way I look. I like the way I feel.
I'm tired of people making me feel like an ass because I want a fucking cookie. I like fucking cookies! Over the course of 4 days I ate a package of Pepperidge Farm Mint Milanos that my Mother In Law put in my Christmas stocking! And they were fucking AMAZING!
So, here I am. 178 pounds, a size 14 dress, a 33inch waste to my 5'6" frame. I have the endurance to skate 30 laps in 5 minutes, can run 1.5 miles in 17 minutes (I hate running), I can kick someones ass (but I abhor unnecessary violence for no reason) and I am happy.
Can you say you're happy?

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