It's time for the profound statement of the day. Ready? My body is... my body. Simple, obvious and yet no one can seem to get it.
I have been very lucky so far on the hair front. Almost everyone has loved it, without question. On my real Facebook, where I am not "out" about FA to most people, tons of comments have come in supporting me. Even at work at ON, no one has even batted an eye. That's pretty amazing for retail. I'm there to sell a product, so I could see if they disapproved of my looking very different from their customer base. But all my managers loved it and treated it as though it was the most normal thing ever.
That being said, I have gotten a couple of not so happy responses, from family members, isn't that always the way? Fine. It's a big change all at once, with no real warning (I mean I've always been saying I wanted to shave my head but I guess people thought I was joking.) I could see where they wouldn't immediately tell me I look great.
But here's the thing that really gets me. Right after the "so what did you do that for?" speech, came this question. "What does your husband think about it?"
To which I've been answering that he's the one who encouraged me to do it when I started to second-guess myself AND he's the one who took all the pictures of me while I was in the chair. But I really feel what I should have said is "it's my damn head!"
Now, I love my husband very much and I would never make a big decision without consulting him first. But at the end of the day, it's my head. He doesn't own my head, I am not his property. It's such sexist bull to ask me what he thinks (in a certain way, some of my coworkers asked nicely.) My husband who loves me and supports me no matter what is going leave me because we both have short hair and of course women cannot be attractive if they have short hair? Will I stop loving my husband when he goes bald? Or if he gets a "bad" haircut or decides to go for a ponytail? Of course not. But men are allowed to do those kinds of things. A woman shaving her head means she doesn't love her husband.
I love my new hairdo. It makes me happy. And that makes my husband happy. And, oh yeah, not that it matters, but I look pretty damn good like this so I think it actually turns Mr. Sprat on more. And he doesn't have to worry about putting his arm around me and pulling my hair anymore. But that's not the point. It's my decision and if you don't like it, tell me you don't like it, don't allude to the fact that my head exists solely for my husband's pleasure by asking what he thinks.
I also love my fat, it makes me happy and it is a part of me. And my husband married me with all that fat there already. So step off my body, it's mine and mine alone and the people who really care about me, will love it, no matter what.
Showing posts with label FA. Show all posts
Showing posts with label FA. Show all posts
Monday, July 11, 2011
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Book Review: Shadow on a Tightrope
As part of my summer of freedom, I have decided to try to read as many books as I possibly can, probably a book a week until September. I have a list started that includes my favorite authors (Paul Auster and Margaret Atwood), works of feminism, works about fat acceptance/liberation and maybe a few sex books, classics and new authors to consider. I'm really looking forward to reading some of the literature about Fat Acceptance, since so far, all of my knowledge comes from blogs.
In terms of FA, I decided to start with a book called Shadow on a Tightrope. I chose the book because it included both factual information and stories of fat women, so it seemed like a good way to ease myself into more heady, intellectual books. As it turns out, it was a great place to start because it seems that it may the first Fat Liberation book published, or it is often where people start reading.
The book is organized into several different parts which cover: Exposing fat myths, memories of fat women, the struggle to exercise or participate in sports because of ridicule, living with embarrassment and isolation, medical crimes, and fat women as survivors. I thought it was well organized because it built some factual basis in the first chapter and then showed the grave injustices that fat women face and go more for the emotional from there, and then bring it back to more intellectual prose by talking about politics towards the end.
It was a very intense read for me, especially because it is an outdated book (1983). I know that seems counter-intuitive, but I guess I had just imagined that FA was relatively new and that was the reason why I had just discovered it recently. To find out that people have known about the dangers of diets since the 80's and maybe earlier and still all we see on TV is Jenny Craig ads and Michelle Obama's bullying is horrifying.
It was also really grueling to read about the many accounts of intestinal bypass, which for those who don't know, was done before gastric bypass and involved removing most of the intestine so that food passed through people without it ever being digested. To read about what so many women went through, and what was considered to be "normal" healing from the procedure-- painful diarrhea, hair lost, pain, vomiting, nutritional deficiencies, infection, fever-- not to mention the complications which often arose, was staggering. The worst part was that these women were healthy to begin with (it was often a requirement for the surgery) and they were extremely unhealthy and many died, after. I can't think of more obvious proof that thin and health are not the same thing!
In terms of sexuality, I thought it was interesting to note that most of the women in the book identified themselves as lesbians. I suppose that it makes sense because these particular Fat Lib people had come from a feminism perspective and many feminists at that time were lesbians. I was a little put out by it, to be honest, because I hate the idea that you can't be attracted to men and be a feminist at the same time. However, it was also very interesting to hear of women who considered themselves lesbian feminists and then followed men's conventional beauty standards and how upset this contradiction made fat lesbians. People can learn to be so critical about everything, expect fat hate for some reason. Why this is was explored in the book but I think there is lots of room for more studies and theories about this contradiction.
There was one essay about fat sexuality, and the author identified that she was attracted to males. The essay was painful to read. It demonstrates how interconnected body image is with other aspects of sexuality and shows first-hand how dangerous fat-hate can be to all other aspects of a person's life. The things that fat women are expected to sacrifice for sex or a relationship are mind-boggling once you really start to think about it. There are always conditions that must be followed, or else you will wind-up alone. You must learn to be grateful for any kind of attention, because you are not deserving. Furthermore, fat women are pushed into the Eve/Mary dichotomy perhaps even more than women in general. We are either supersexual and willing to sleep with anyone or we are asexual, jolly, fat women who provide comic relief and little else.
Overall, the book was a great read and one I would definitely recommend for people new to Fat Acceptance or for those who would like to know more about the history of Fat Acceptance. We need to educate people about this, it has been nearly 30 years since this book was written and almost no one knows about the truths it contains. We need to end the suffering!
~Mrs. Sprat
In terms of FA, I decided to start with a book called Shadow on a Tightrope. I chose the book because it included both factual information and stories of fat women, so it seemed like a good way to ease myself into more heady, intellectual books. As it turns out, it was a great place to start because it seems that it may the first Fat Liberation book published, or it is often where people start reading.
The book is organized into several different parts which cover: Exposing fat myths, memories of fat women, the struggle to exercise or participate in sports because of ridicule, living with embarrassment and isolation, medical crimes, and fat women as survivors. I thought it was well organized because it built some factual basis in the first chapter and then showed the grave injustices that fat women face and go more for the emotional from there, and then bring it back to more intellectual prose by talking about politics towards the end.
It was a very intense read for me, especially because it is an outdated book (1983). I know that seems counter-intuitive, but I guess I had just imagined that FA was relatively new and that was the reason why I had just discovered it recently. To find out that people have known about the dangers of diets since the 80's and maybe earlier and still all we see on TV is Jenny Craig ads and Michelle Obama's bullying is horrifying.
It was also really grueling to read about the many accounts of intestinal bypass, which for those who don't know, was done before gastric bypass and involved removing most of the intestine so that food passed through people without it ever being digested. To read about what so many women went through, and what was considered to be "normal" healing from the procedure-- painful diarrhea, hair lost, pain, vomiting, nutritional deficiencies, infection, fever-- not to mention the complications which often arose, was staggering. The worst part was that these women were healthy to begin with (it was often a requirement for the surgery) and they were extremely unhealthy and many died, after. I can't think of more obvious proof that thin and health are not the same thing!
In terms of sexuality, I thought it was interesting to note that most of the women in the book identified themselves as lesbians. I suppose that it makes sense because these particular Fat Lib people had come from a feminism perspective and many feminists at that time were lesbians. I was a little put out by it, to be honest, because I hate the idea that you can't be attracted to men and be a feminist at the same time. However, it was also very interesting to hear of women who considered themselves lesbian feminists and then followed men's conventional beauty standards and how upset this contradiction made fat lesbians. People can learn to be so critical about everything, expect fat hate for some reason. Why this is was explored in the book but I think there is lots of room for more studies and theories about this contradiction.
There was one essay about fat sexuality, and the author identified that she was attracted to males. The essay was painful to read. It demonstrates how interconnected body image is with other aspects of sexuality and shows first-hand how dangerous fat-hate can be to all other aspects of a person's life. The things that fat women are expected to sacrifice for sex or a relationship are mind-boggling once you really start to think about it. There are always conditions that must be followed, or else you will wind-up alone. You must learn to be grateful for any kind of attention, because you are not deserving. Furthermore, fat women are pushed into the Eve/Mary dichotomy perhaps even more than women in general. We are either supersexual and willing to sleep with anyone or we are asexual, jolly, fat women who provide comic relief and little else.
Overall, the book was a great read and one I would definitely recommend for people new to Fat Acceptance or for those who would like to know more about the history of Fat Acceptance. We need to educate people about this, it has been nearly 30 years since this book was written and almost no one knows about the truths it contains. We need to end the suffering!
~Mrs. Sprat
Monday, March 21, 2011
Thank You
Yesterday, Mr. Sprat and I bought bicycles. I haven't ridden a bike since high school, so that was about six years ago. And that time it was only to move the bikes from one house to another, four blocks. I barely made it. My thighs ached and I could barely keep peddling by the time we got there. Since then, my husband and I have talked about getting bikes and my response was always kind of ambivalent. Maybe we could rent them, I would say. I remembered how bad it felt to not be able to make it four blocks. All I could think was how difficult it had been and how much I didn't want to own something that was "for exercising."
Then I saw this post while I was going back through Fat Heffalump's blog. And I thought to myself, that is the cutest bike I've ever seen! And then I thought, I want to ride again. It got to the point where all I could think about was getting a bike. So yesterday for the first day of spring we went and bought bikes.
We weren't originally planning on buying them just yet so when we got out to the car, we didn't really have a plan on how to get them home. Of course, they wouldn't fit in the car, nothing fits in our trunk, seriously. We don't live too far from the Kmart where we got them so Mr. Sprat suggested we ride them home. I wasn't sure. Honestly, I wasn't sure I'd even remember how to ride, let alone make it a couple of miles home. But as he was trying fruitlessly to get them in the car, I pushed myself off. After a little wobbling, I started doing circles around the parked cars. I was flying. My legs didn't hurt, I didn't fall off or break the bike, everything was smooth and perfect. So we rode the bikes home. And yeah, I had to stop a couple of times. And yes, my butt is sore today, but I did it. And now I have a bike again!
Today, it rained most of the day and I was crushed because I wanted to go ride again. I felt like a kid, who wanted to go out and play, something I rarely even experienced as a child. And so I just wanted to say thank you, to the entire Fat Acceptance community and to Fat Heffalump especially, for giving me the confidence to ride my bike again, for the pure fun of it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Love,
Mrs. Sprat
Then I saw this post while I was going back through Fat Heffalump's blog. And I thought to myself, that is the cutest bike I've ever seen! And then I thought, I want to ride again. It got to the point where all I could think about was getting a bike. So yesterday for the first day of spring we went and bought bikes.
We weren't originally planning on buying them just yet so when we got out to the car, we didn't really have a plan on how to get them home. Of course, they wouldn't fit in the car, nothing fits in our trunk, seriously. We don't live too far from the Kmart where we got them so Mr. Sprat suggested we ride them home. I wasn't sure. Honestly, I wasn't sure I'd even remember how to ride, let alone make it a couple of miles home. But as he was trying fruitlessly to get them in the car, I pushed myself off. After a little wobbling, I started doing circles around the parked cars. I was flying. My legs didn't hurt, I didn't fall off or break the bike, everything was smooth and perfect. So we rode the bikes home. And yeah, I had to stop a couple of times. And yes, my butt is sore today, but I did it. And now I have a bike again!
Today, it rained most of the day and I was crushed because I wanted to go ride again. I felt like a kid, who wanted to go out and play, something I rarely even experienced as a child. And so I just wanted to say thank you, to the entire Fat Acceptance community and to Fat Heffalump especially, for giving me the confidence to ride my bike again, for the pure fun of it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Love,
Mrs. Sprat
Friday, February 4, 2011
Should
I did something I wasn't supposed to do yesterday. Something that I haven't done in years. Actually, I'm not really sure if I can remember ever doing it. I bought... a belt.
Well, actually I bought two belts.
The last time I can remember having a belt, was middle school. I think I had one of those fabric ones with the metal clasp that just slides and kind of clicks into place. I also think that it came with a pair of pants that I bought, I don't think that I specifically bought it or anything. At that time I was still occasionally tucking in my shirt, and then "blousing" it out so you couldn't really tell where my stomach was. (My mom taught me that one.)
I haven't worn a belt (or tucked my shirt in) since. Now, I guess a small part of that is because I genuinely don't like the look of tucked in shirts. Honestly, I think it looks kind of nerdy. But there are definitely times when outfits (especially skirts) call for tucked in shirts. And I can remember many times walking past the belts in JC Penney longingly, because they had those cute Relic ones with the bottle caps, or hollographic whatevers and I knew I had no use for them.
I mean really, why would a fat person ever need a belt anyway? Belts hold up your pants, a fat person has fat to do that for them. (Never mind that my pants are ALWAYS falling down because my butt is flatter than my stomach so I start to slide.) So I hadn't bought a belt in years, and I certainly hadn't tucked a shirt either.
It's interesting the rules we follow, without even realizing that we do them sometimes. I personally never followed the "no-sleeveless" rule, though my mother would force me to wear shawls with nice dresses. She used to pin them to the dress or (in the case of my middle school graduation) tuck them in through the sleeves. I never really cared much for that rule mostly because I'm always hot. I would start to dance at a sweet 16 and it would come un-pinned or else I would just take it off so I could dance more comfortably. My mother would ask me what happened and I would say that it fell off, and she would just shake her head at me.
But I never wore belts, I knew that was something only thin people did. And I never wore my shirt tucked in. I rarely wore dresses until college when a friend re-introduced me to girdles. And I never, ever, ever did anything (besides shower) without a bra on.
That's another one that I learned from my mother. She would shower in her bra if she could find a way. She wears hers to sleep, to the bathroom to take the shower, back out again, in the pool. Always. One day a few months after I started wearing training bras, I decided to go a day without one. I remember, I was wearing a yellow t-shirt and it was a Saturday so it wasn't like anyone was going to see me anyway.
My mother looked me up and down. "You're not wearing a bra today" she accused.
"Nah, I thought I'd give it a rest today," I replied.
"You should probably wear one."
I felt so sad. I was chained to them now, forever, just like Mom. It wasn't until Mr. Sprat that I stopped wearing them when I sleep, now, even occasionally when I'm home all day. It's amazing how fast the scars I was led to believe all big-chested women have faded after I stopped abusing my body.
So eventually, I stopped wearing my bra all the time. And eventually I started wearing dresses more. And I started telling Mom it was my own business whether my arms would be covered or not. And yesterday I bought a belt. And I bought skirts with the intent to tuck.
For so long, I thought there were just some things I couldn't do because I was fat. I was told there were some things that just weren't my rights, because I was fat. But I moved out on my own, and I slept without a bra and I wore dresses and somehow, I found a boyfriend and got married (and found a wedding dress!) And the police didn't kick in my door and tell me to give it back. And I realized that maybe I could have anything I wanted, if I just worked at it and surrounded myself with people who would support me.
So yesterday, I bought a belt.
Well, actually I bought two belts.
The last time I can remember having a belt, was middle school. I think I had one of those fabric ones with the metal clasp that just slides and kind of clicks into place. I also think that it came with a pair of pants that I bought, I don't think that I specifically bought it or anything. At that time I was still occasionally tucking in my shirt, and then "blousing" it out so you couldn't really tell where my stomach was. (My mom taught me that one.)
I haven't worn a belt (or tucked my shirt in) since. Now, I guess a small part of that is because I genuinely don't like the look of tucked in shirts. Honestly, I think it looks kind of nerdy. But there are definitely times when outfits (especially skirts) call for tucked in shirts. And I can remember many times walking past the belts in JC Penney longingly, because they had those cute Relic ones with the bottle caps, or hollographic whatevers and I knew I had no use for them.
I mean really, why would a fat person ever need a belt anyway? Belts hold up your pants, a fat person has fat to do that for them. (Never mind that my pants are ALWAYS falling down because my butt is flatter than my stomach so I start to slide.) So I hadn't bought a belt in years, and I certainly hadn't tucked a shirt either.
It's interesting the rules we follow, without even realizing that we do them sometimes. I personally never followed the "no-sleeveless" rule, though my mother would force me to wear shawls with nice dresses. She used to pin them to the dress or (in the case of my middle school graduation) tuck them in through the sleeves. I never really cared much for that rule mostly because I'm always hot. I would start to dance at a sweet 16 and it would come un-pinned or else I would just take it off so I could dance more comfortably. My mother would ask me what happened and I would say that it fell off, and she would just shake her head at me.
But I never wore belts, I knew that was something only thin people did. And I never wore my shirt tucked in. I rarely wore dresses until college when a friend re-introduced me to girdles. And I never, ever, ever did anything (besides shower) without a bra on.
That's another one that I learned from my mother. She would shower in her bra if she could find a way. She wears hers to sleep, to the bathroom to take the shower, back out again, in the pool. Always. One day a few months after I started wearing training bras, I decided to go a day without one. I remember, I was wearing a yellow t-shirt and it was a Saturday so it wasn't like anyone was going to see me anyway.
My mother looked me up and down. "You're not wearing a bra today" she accused.
"Nah, I thought I'd give it a rest today," I replied.
"You should probably wear one."
I felt so sad. I was chained to them now, forever, just like Mom. It wasn't until Mr. Sprat that I stopped wearing them when I sleep, now, even occasionally when I'm home all day. It's amazing how fast the scars I was led to believe all big-chested women have faded after I stopped abusing my body.
So eventually, I stopped wearing my bra all the time. And eventually I started wearing dresses more. And I started telling Mom it was my own business whether my arms would be covered or not. And yesterday I bought a belt. And I bought skirts with the intent to tuck.
For so long, I thought there were just some things I couldn't do because I was fat. I was told there were some things that just weren't my rights, because I was fat. But I moved out on my own, and I slept without a bra and I wore dresses and somehow, I found a boyfriend and got married (and found a wedding dress!) And the police didn't kick in my door and tell me to give it back. And I realized that maybe I could have anything I wanted, if I just worked at it and surrounded myself with people who would support me.
So yesterday, I bought a belt.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Aunt B.
My second trip in the last two weeks (I may post about the other later) was to go and see my husband's Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles and Cousins. I was really excited for the trip because Mr. Sprat's grandparents are the kind of grandparents everyone wants to have. Grandma spoils us rotten with Ham Loaf dinners and trips to the Chinese buffet and all she is concerned about is if we've had enough to eat. I was really excited to go because I was expecting lots of good food and no "gosh are you sure you should be eating that" crap.
Mostly, the trip was just as I had hoped. Lots of being spoiled and no guilt. They don't even do it to themselves, which is nice. I hate hearing about how someone else shouldn't eat the thing they just ate that you just ate too. But at one point during dinner, Grandma and Grandpap started talking about Aunt B.
Aunt B. died several years ago (before I'd even met my husband) from breast cancer and was loved by everyone in Mr. Sprat's entire family. One year when she'd had chemo so her hair was really short, she dressed up as Drew Carey for Halloween. That takes some balls. She also used to volunteer as a patient escort at Planned Parenthood, to help get people inside past the protesters. From everything I've heard, it sounds like I would have loved her and that we would have had a lot in common. She always seemed to me like the kind of person who didn't care what anyone thought and just did what she wanted to do.
Sadly, the story was about how she dieted one time and got down to 140 pounds and looked "amazing." Grandma couldn't stop talking about how good she looked or how different she looked. At one point she even said that she couldn't even tell it was her, she couldn't see B. in there at all.
I was horrified. Why would they be impressed that she didn't look like herself at at all? Who wants to not be his or herself? Also, according to my husband, when she was dying she wasted away and looked terrible. It's in very poor taste to comment on how good she looked thin, considering it would later be a sign that she was dying. I was shocked both that B. would have dieted in the first place and also that Grandma and Grandpap would be so impressed by it, all over a hamloaf dinner while looking across the table at their fat granddaughter -in-law.
It hurt a lot. I wanted to yell and scream. I wanted to say "no, not you guys, you don't care about weight." I wanted to keep my image of Aunt B. as being someone like me. I thought I had found a corner of the world where diet culture hadn't totally permeated. It feels like sometimes there are no safe places.
~Mrs. Sprat
Mostly, the trip was just as I had hoped. Lots of being spoiled and no guilt. They don't even do it to themselves, which is nice. I hate hearing about how someone else shouldn't eat the thing they just ate that you just ate too. But at one point during dinner, Grandma and Grandpap started talking about Aunt B.
Aunt B. died several years ago (before I'd even met my husband) from breast cancer and was loved by everyone in Mr. Sprat's entire family. One year when she'd had chemo so her hair was really short, she dressed up as Drew Carey for Halloween. That takes some balls. She also used to volunteer as a patient escort at Planned Parenthood, to help get people inside past the protesters. From everything I've heard, it sounds like I would have loved her and that we would have had a lot in common. She always seemed to me like the kind of person who didn't care what anyone thought and just did what she wanted to do.
Sadly, the story was about how she dieted one time and got down to 140 pounds and looked "amazing." Grandma couldn't stop talking about how good she looked or how different she looked. At one point she even said that she couldn't even tell it was her, she couldn't see B. in there at all.
I was horrified. Why would they be impressed that she didn't look like herself at at all? Who wants to not be his or herself? Also, according to my husband, when she was dying she wasted away and looked terrible. It's in very poor taste to comment on how good she looked thin, considering it would later be a sign that she was dying. I was shocked both that B. would have dieted in the first place and also that Grandma and Grandpap would be so impressed by it, all over a hamloaf dinner while looking across the table at their fat granddaughter -in-law.
It hurt a lot. I wanted to yell and scream. I wanted to say "no, not you guys, you don't care about weight." I wanted to keep my image of Aunt B. as being someone like me. I thought I had found a corner of the world where diet culture hadn't totally permeated. It feels like sometimes there are no safe places.
~Mrs. Sprat
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Romanticizing Pregnancy
When I was a girl, I always wanted baby dolls for Christmas. Usually several. I always loved baby dolls and playing mommy. The Christmas I was either 8 or 9, I started pretending that I was pregnant the month or so before Christmas, knowing that I was going to get baby dolls soon. Mostly, I did it at home having the vague sense that pretending to be pregnant at school would probably get me in trouble. I would walk tilted, jutting my belly out and putting a hand on my rounded stomach every now and then. I would imagine that I could feel my baby (or babies) kicking. I loved it. I couldn't wait to really be pregnant. Of course, my mom found me out and yelled at me that that was not an okay game to play, which I didn't quite understand, but in my mind, I maintained this fantasy.
I have romanticized pregnancy ever since and until very recently, I never knew quite why. No matter what people told me about how painful and unpleasant pregnancy was, I always wanted to be pregnant anyway. I mean, now that I'm married, we have a plan that does not include babies for another four or five years, but I still yearn to be pregnant. In one of my classes this semester it suddenly occurred to me why this was. I wanted to be pregnant because it was the one time that it was okay to be fat. It is the one time of your life that you could wear shirts that show off your big belly, instead of hiding it. It is the one time of your life where strangers touch your belly and get a happy look in their eyes. It is the one time of your life where you can eat whatever you want at whatever time you want and people treat you like you are doing something wonderful and selfless. I wanted to be pregnant because it was the only way that I thought I could be fat AND happy.
~Mrs. Sprat
I have romanticized pregnancy ever since and until very recently, I never knew quite why. No matter what people told me about how painful and unpleasant pregnancy was, I always wanted to be pregnant anyway. I mean, now that I'm married, we have a plan that does not include babies for another four or five years, but I still yearn to be pregnant. In one of my classes this semester it suddenly occurred to me why this was. I wanted to be pregnant because it was the one time that it was okay to be fat. It is the one time of your life that you could wear shirts that show off your big belly, instead of hiding it. It is the one time of your life where strangers touch your belly and get a happy look in their eyes. It is the one time of your life where you can eat whatever you want at whatever time you want and people treat you like you are doing something wonderful and selfless. I wanted to be pregnant because it was the only way that I thought I could be fat AND happy.
~Mrs. Sprat
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
On Being More Afraid of Fat Acceptance than Just Being Fat
I have been lurking around the corners of the Fat-O-Sphere for months now and trying to figure out how to process the material I have been working through. I've been talking to my husband about it, which has been great, but I am afraid to tell anyone else. I'm afraid that I will be judged and laughed at and that's just my family's reactions! So I decided that maybe the best way to process everything-- and to try to slowly build up the courage to tell my family and friends about my new interest-- is to start writing.
I have been fat my whole life, (with the exception of the year I was 10, though I didn't know it at the time.) From late elementary school on I have been on various diets, though mostly Slim-Fast. Once I got to college, I began telling people that yes, I wanted to be on a diet but college was too stressful and once I was out I would try to lose weight. But secretly, I had no desire to lose weight. I was happy with how I looked and felt and certainly happy with eating what I enjoyed. After college I married Mr. Sprat and after a year of working I am back in graduate school studying Human Sexuality. I discovered FA a few months ago when I was reading a book about rape and there was an article by Kate Harding in it. I've been hooked ever since and am feeling stronger and better about myself than I ever have.
I am really looking forward to discussing fat acceptance with the community, not to mention focusing on fat sex, as it combines two of my greatest interests and also getting to show off some outfits (one of the few benefits of working in retail to put myself through school.) See you around the Fat-O-Sphere!
I have been fat my whole life, (with the exception of the year I was 10, though I didn't know it at the time.) From late elementary school on I have been on various diets, though mostly Slim-Fast. Once I got to college, I began telling people that yes, I wanted to be on a diet but college was too stressful and once I was out I would try to lose weight. But secretly, I had no desire to lose weight. I was happy with how I looked and felt and certainly happy with eating what I enjoyed. After college I married Mr. Sprat and after a year of working I am back in graduate school studying Human Sexuality. I discovered FA a few months ago when I was reading a book about rape and there was an article by Kate Harding in it. I've been hooked ever since and am feeling stronger and better about myself than I ever have.
I am really looking forward to discussing fat acceptance with the community, not to mention focusing on fat sex, as it combines two of my greatest interests and also getting to show off some outfits (one of the few benefits of working in retail to put myself through school.) See you around the Fat-O-Sphere!
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