body positivity

Thin Privilege From a Fat Girl's Perspective

11:56 AM

My whole life I've been fat. Not fat as in a little extra fluff on my adolescent body. Fat as in one of the biggest females in my grade, let alone my friend group. Fat as in avoiding shopping trips to the mall with my friends to save myself the embarrassment of having to take them to the one designated store that carried my size, but was far from what any teenager would consider "trendy". Fat as in some guys making jokes at my expense while they flirted with my thin friends. Fat as in leaving other guys in disbelief that I didn't welcome the "honor" of their advances when I had the nerve to be as big as I was. Fat as in not capable of hearing that I was beautiful unless it was prefaced with "You're not fat".

Fat. Really fat. I mean I even came out of the womb weighing almost 11 lbs. Not a single day of my life have I known what it's like to be considered "thin" or "average" sized. Which is probably what makes it so hard when I've heard women who do fall into these categories lament that they're fat. They make comments purporting to understand the struggles of women like me. They attempt to be our voice in mainstream media. But no matter how well intentioned they may be, I can't help but find it really frustrating.

This morning, for instance, I was flipping through the headlines on Yahoo like I do everyday. As I was swiping through I saw a story about well known model Iskra Lawrence. Now the last time I read a Yahoo story about her, it misleadingly wrote that she took it upon herself to talk to Shape Magazine about editing elements of her New Year's workout and diet plan. It made no mention of this occurring, no doubt, in part to the countless blogs and comments people had written about them in reference to the problematic, restrictive meal plans it promoted. But still I clicked to see the revolutionary body positivity this article claimed to contain.

The whole basis of the story was Lawrence being appreciative to her photographer for never re-touching her and showing her "imperfections". I looked at the photos and immediately felt confused.


An hourglass figure, flat stomach, acceptably thick thighs. What about this does society consider imperfect? What aspect of these photos make these unusable for an ad campaign? Was I supposed to identify with this?


I go on Instagram everyday and see photos of women with similar body types to Iskra's contorting  their bodies to seem relatable. They push out their bellies and bend slightly backwards so you can see a delicate back roll. They purport to know what the plight of a fat girl is. The thing is, if they post a Don't Hate the Shake video people tag their friends to see the cute girl dancing. If I do it people tag their friends to laugh at me. If they post a picture in their underwear people heap praise on them and comment "#bodygoals". If I do it people comment "#killyourself". If they want to "embrace the squish" they have to sit down to be able to pinch at the slightest bit of skin. I don't have the luxury of choosing whether or not I want to embrace my fat. It's there on display on my thighs, my stomach, my arms, my face, and my back whether I'm standing, sitting, or doing a jumping jack. 

I'm tired of society making me feel like I should be grateful for it's baby steps towards the illusion of inclusiveness. I'm not going to thank you when you're still not acknowledging people with stories like mine. Many of us do have similar stories with struggling with self image. Feeling so much pressure about our appearance coupled with mental illness has even led some of us to nearly killing ourselves. However, Cosmo and Yahoo aren't going to run stories about women who have always been fat finally finding the beauty of self acceptance after almost losing their lives to suicide attempts because their self hatred was so strong. It's more easily digestible for the public to see a woman who was so in fear of being fat for years finally celebrate being a size 10 or 12.

If a plus size person is covered by the media it's about their impressive weight loss or includes quotes or photos related to them working out. The media and the subject always feel a need to justify the fatness in question.

Ashley Graham

I'm tired of playing the good fatty. I 100% believe that all body types deserve to love themselves, but I'm tired of only one conventionally attractive type of body being the voice for the struggles of all of us. If you're smaller framed, girl, own that small frame. If you're a beautiful model with a beautiful model body, that's awesome too! At the end of the day, yes we're both preaching the same message. But please remember there are some of us who are still really outcast and hated by society. Some of us have never and will never benefit from thin privilege and all it comes with. And if you don't understand the daily pain and insults fat girls get, that's okay. But be inclusive and try to educate yourself so you can better spread the message of bopo. If your body positive role models are all average sized, straight white women then seek to understand the stories of size 26, queer women of color. It's perfectly okay to identify with some people because their stories are similar to yours, but you're doing the movement a disservice when you forget about the rest of us who helped create this. We want a platform to talk about body image from our side of things too.



I'm not a conventionally attractive woman. I've got a big gut and no butt. I've got fat arms and a double chin. I have Christmas ham sized thighs and saggy breasts. But my experiences are still valid and worth being heard. I just want to be afforded the privilege of being able to tell them. I want equality within the body positive movement. I wish for the same respect others are treated with. I want "All bodies are good bodies" to feel like a true statement and see genuine, unapologetic radical self love when fat bodies are represented in the media. I want acceptance and inclusion for everyone.

And most of all, I want to be allowed to live my life being fat AND beautiful.

body positivity

Why Are We Afraid To Let Go Of Toxic People?

3:32 PM


Earlier this week I posted a blog titled "Body Positivity: How We Grew to Resent the Movement We Created", and it was received in a way I never anticipated. The day I finished writing it my fiancé had to pump me up three times before I finally found the nerve to click "publish". Quite honestly, I thought people were going to hate it or my intent might be misconstrued.

I was wrong.

The morning after I posted it, I was flooded with comments and messages of complete support. I opened direct message after direct message on Instagram expecting expletive filled rants, but they never appeared. My post was shared on so many accounts I lost track and, at the time I'm writing this, has been viewed almost 1600 times which is pretty exciting for a blog that's only one month old.

But I couldn't help but feel a bit dejected at the same time. I knew people were feeling really disenfranchised, which was my whole point of writing what I did. I, however, did not realize quite how deep this went.

Emotions ranged from angry:


To disappointed:



To feeling a sense of pressure to support problematic "role models":

     (This person opted to remain anonymous)

While I understood the first two emotions, I couldn't quite wrap my head around the last sentiment. It popped up in quite a few messages I read. When I asked people why they felt like they had to support accounts they didn't identify with anymore the responses ranged from "I'm too afraid to speak up" to "I think [they] track [their] followers and I don't want to deal with confrontation if [they] notice I unfollowed". 

For example, many people have noticed other accounts rephrasing or, in some cases, blatantly plagiarizing their posts or those of people they know. They don't necessarily have a problem with these folks summarizing or quoting their words as long as due credit is given. But the fact that certain accounts pass off the work of others as their own in the hopes no one will notice is a rightful bone of contention with some. "One time is a mistake, but I've had to say something to [them] on many occasions. It's frustrating and it doesn't feel like a mistake anymore." someone wrote in a message to me.

Even going back to 2013/2014, people in the bopo community felt compelled to support troublesome figures. Many women at this time had latched on to a male body positive activist who regularly publicly championed feminism and good body image. Everyone thought his poetic posts about women were the epitome of sweetness and he quickly amassed thousands of followers who saw him as the quintessential "good guy". But then stories of how he would push the lines of friendship to areas of romantic attachment started to surface from at least six or seven ladies. It wasn't just upsetting that he had been having the same types of conversations with multiple women, but that he had seemingly preyed on women who were still in the midst of dealing with self esteem issues. To them it felt like he had conned them into believing a legitimate relationship was imminent only to pull the rug out from under them when they finally let their guards down. A slow rumble of discontent towards him began to emanate, but other than the scorned women he allegedly toyed with, no one spoke up to denounce the popular wolf in sheep's clothing they thought they knew. He did, however, disappear from Instagram for some time only to resurface on a newly created account which has gone through semi-regular name changes.

But why do we have such a hard time standing up for ourselves or against actions and behaviors we know are wrong?

I was trying to rationalize it solely from an internet perspective and came to the simple conclusion that we're afraid. For some of us, we've been outcasts because of our weight or looks our whole lives. We've been aching for years to find some place in a world that has always told us we're inadequate. We search in the wrong places suffering abuse and heartaches in the process, and then all of a sudden we find it! We find tens, hundreds, maybe even thousands of people who prop us up and make us feel important for the first time! But then one day we read/see something from someone we considered a friend, or idolized even, that rubs us the wrong way. We know in our hearts it goes against our moral compass and we should speak up, but we don't. Or we do, but not so much as to really rock the boat. And why is that? Because we're afraid of losing the one thing or place in the world that has given us a sense of purpose and validity. If we call out the behavior of someone, and it blows up in our face, we're afraid of being excommunicated from the community. If we don't have that safe space, then some of us might be stuck with our real life close minded friends and families who don't understand our struggles with self acceptance.

But I think it goes even further than that. In some cases we're just bad with confrontation, so we accept being bullied or stepped on.

From my earliest memory around the age of 4 until I was 13, I was physically abused by my mother. I was regularly punched, whipped, kicked, choked, and had inanimate objects thrown at me, but to this day I feel like the emotional abuse I went through was far worse. It ranged from fairly minor things like name calling to really heavy comments like expressing her desire for me to have been the child she miscarried about a year after my birth. Bruises, cuts, and scrapes heal in a timely manner. Emotional bruises can take years assuming they ever fully heal. It took me almost a decade to tell ANYONE what was going on. I was far too afraid of what the consequences would be if no one supported me. I let it go on and on, suffering abuse after abuse, until one day I decided I'd had enough. I wasn't going to be a victim any longer. I wasn't going to allow this toxic person to retain space they didn't deserve in my life. I'm 25 years old now and I haven't had contact with my mother in just under 12 years.

Now some people have said I'm too cold and maybe it's time to mend fences. To these people I usually say, "I'm not a glutton for punishment". I can say with absolute certainty that I am so much more physically and emotionally healthy at this point in my life, than I would have been if I let her linger about. I didn't enjoy what I went through going up, nor would I recommend it for others, but it instilled in me a cutthroat sense of self respect. If someone doesn't have a positive presence in my life or help me grow as a person, I find it easy to disassociate myself from them. It doesn't matter if it's in real life or online, or if the general consensus of my decision would be viewed as unpopular. I am not a punching bag, emotionally or otherwise, and neither are you.

If someone shows themselves to be a negative presence in your life after repeated chances, maybe it's time to consider they don't need to be a part of it. Whether it's a friend of some kind, a significant other, a family member, an authority figure, etc. it is perfectly acceptable to make the decision you would be better off without them. I understand the element of fear surrounding speaking up, confrontation, and potential loneliness but all of these are temporary experiences. What lasts is the feeling of self respect you maintain for standing up for yourself and what's right. 

You don't deserve to have your work stolen. You don't deserve to have your emotions played with. You don't deserve to be put down and intimidated. You don't deserve to have your voice silenced. And if someone is actively displaying hurtful behavior, maybe they don't deserve you.

Know your worth, take a stand when needed, and never forget that you are magical.

body positivity

Body Positivity: How We Grew To Resent the Movement We Created

12:27 PM


Image Credit: Abbey Gallagher

 While scrolling through my Facebook feed the other night, I saw a status from a very well known Instagrammer cryptically stating there are fake people in the plus size community. The accompanying comment section had received more than 75 responses generally agreeing and sharing their discontent with the state of the body positive movement. I found myself scrolling and agreeing with many of their points as well.

But I began to think:

"How did we get here?"

I've considered myself a part of the bopo community for nearly 4 years now. I wasn't there during the LiveJournal days many people reference, or even for the inception of it on Instagram. But when I did discover it, I wouldn't say it was that extensive just yet. Or at least it didn't feel like it. Someone on the aforementioned thread said she wasn't sure if there was ever really a "community" or any sense of "unity", but I disagree.

I discovered the bopo community during one of my lunch breaks I had while working at Lane Bryant. A random girl had left a series of unsavory comments about my fatness on my pictures, and I couldn't help but respond with a sarcastic caption of mock confusion under a photo of me eating chicken nuggets. Another woman, named Lily, saw that picture and replied with encouragement and the hashtag "pizzasisters4lyfe". And this whole new world was opened up to me!

Now I wouldn't exactly say we had very many mainstream influencers quite yet. There were definitely standouts and people working their way towards that, but the line between Instagram movement and commercial success hadn't really been breached yet. At that point, I really feel we were just groups of people who understood one another's struggle with body acceptance. We posted and were there for each other out of the goodness of our hearts with no agenda. We championed each other's achievements like going outside in shorts for the first time or showing our cellulite and back rolls. We made lovely posts for each other every Wednesday sharing who was inspiring us and complimenting all the amazing characteristics we saw in one another. All of the self celebrating and encouragement was indescribably wonderful. I don't think any of us had ever experienced that level of support in our lives before, and it was coming from strangers of all people.

But in the midst of all the love being spread, there were those who claimed a hierarchy was taking shape. An Instagram page had been created for "Pizzasisters4lyfe" and people felt as though accounts with the highest number of followers were the only ones being featured. More so, there were some who felt the accounts with higher followings were elitist and wouldn't associate with smaller accounts. This caused a lot of tension and passive aggressive posts began popping up accompanied by unfollowing sprees. All of a sudden there was an "us vs. them" feel to the atmosphere.

The movement didn't stop expanding though. On the contrary, people continued to preach their flavor of body positivity and our boldness flourished further. The "Effyourbeautystandards" t-shirts and account were taking off, and Tess Holliday's (or Munster at the time) pin-up makeover and photo shoots were all over our feeds. A conversation about body positivity had started to take shape in mainstream media due in part to people like Tess, Whitney Way Thore, and Lena Dunham. Websites started to feature "listicles" of accounts people should follow and even gave spotlight features to stories they found particularly inspiring. These stories most commonly depicted plus size women losing weight, but still falling under the category of "plus sized", or eating disorder survivors who had finally found body peace. There were limits to this though and no matter if your story involved you losing weight or gaining weight, the common denominator was an "acceptably fat" body type that readers would feel comfortable supporting.

Online features turned to television spots, magazine spreads, sponsorship arrangements, modeling contracts, and book deals. Because of this body positivity and certain people within it seemed to blow up overnight and, whether it was wanted or not, these people became idolized and famous in a sense. We went from celebrating our individuality to comparing ourselves to our acquaintances or friends who all of a sudden had turned taking pictures in their bedrooms like us into a career path of sorts.

Companies realized the momentum the idea of simply loving yourself was gaining and a new hashtag and campaign seemed to be coming out every month. #ImNoAngel, #PlusIsEqual, #AerieReal, #RealBeauty, and more. The number of campaigns quickly started to feel overwhelming, but some tried to stand out by presenting themselves as relatable. They began featuring real bloggers and Instagrammers in the hopes people would identify with them (or that the number of followers these people had would garner them huge amounts of free publicity), but in my opinion, this strategy was never fully executed properly. For the most part, the most acceptably fat among us got asked to be featured. In some ways it felt like they were saying "We want to capitalize on your movement, but only by slightly pushing the boundary." Even today you'd still be hard pressed to find a truly intersectional, well rounded and representative body positive centered campaign. Many members of the community felt and continue to feel understandably excluded and even annoyed by this.

"Am I only allowed to be proud of my body if I have a thick booty and thighs but a flat stomach? Is that the only plus sized body type that's acceptable to celebrate? Where's my representation?"

Even on pages that were created for us to show flaws and all people began to feel less and less represented. The Effyourbeautystandards Instagram page came under fire multiple times for showcasing the same popular accounts repeatedly and showing more plus size fashion posts than bare faced, imperfect body embracing messages. Our role models have battled accusations of fraud, plagiarism, racism, and selling out by promoting diet teas and work out plans.

It's no wonder that at this point a good number of people feel disenfranchised by a movement that was always supposed to be there for them. Many still support the idea at it's core, but feel their bopo support circles have shrunk because the sense of community that once was so prevalent has been replaced by an aristocracy, commercialism, and competition. Or in other cases, some Instagrammers feel as though their accounts, which started as their own personal safe spaces to interact with like minded internet friends, have become a place more for the benefit of others. They're not necessarily posting for self discovery but to help thousands of others who look up to them. All of that pressure on a person who didn't set out to be a role model or Instagram celebrity can be quite a heavy weight to carry on top of the "behind the scenes" problems people experience in life.

So where do we go from here?

I think there are a few important things to note:

  1. The community may not feel as intimate as it once did, and it probably won't ever get back to that. That's okay. It may feel harder to connect with people between the comments/messages/emails, but whether you have a support system of 100 people or three people, as long as you have someone there who you can talk to and feel empowered by that's all you need.

  2. Some people are just going to get along better with each other, and that's also absolutely fine. If two people with high follower counts shout each other out a lot, that's not necessarily "elitism". I doubt in most cases anyone thinks they're better or above others because of the number of followers they have on Instagram. And if they do, is not being friends with someone like that really a reason to be upset?

  3. YOU MATTER! We still have a LONG way to go when it comes to true diverse representation across the board. Even if you don't see yourself when you look at campaigns, body positive shout out accounts, TV, etc. you are still so incredibly valid and important. It may take a million baby steps to get there, but every move we make is a step forward.

  4. Which brings me to my next point: I know it's easy to become bitter and resentful because you don't feel recognized or included. You might not be able to afford fancy clothes and don't have sponsorship deals like some plus size Instagrammers. You might be an individual who belongs to a marginalized group, and you're unsure if there's a space for you in bopo because you don't see people you identify with. You might have a physical disability and feel like no one represents you in that sense. You might not feel like anyone talks enough about the connection between body positivity and mental health. Just because the norm may celebrate a singular type of body, style, or message doesn't mean you don't have the power to add yourself to it and change the conversation. You can create change with persistence and perseverance.

  5. If you are lucky enough to be in a position where you have a strong presence in the community or through various forms of media, use that power to give a voice to the less represented. Be a champion of the marginalized and the unseen, and give back to the people in the movement who supported you throughout your bopo journey.

  6. Always be kind to people. Whether you have 10 followers or 100k followers, we're all just people on an app doing our best to love ourselves and erase years of hurtful comments and thoughts that have tried to break our spirits. But in spite of our common goal we all have different interpretations of what body positivity means to us. For some it's not being afraid to wear a crop top, for others it's working out at the gym. Different strokes for different folks. Just because we may not all agree doesn't mean we can't at the very least respect each other. And if someone differs that greatly from you, it's okay to have a conversation about your differences or just unfollow them. We don't need to be catty and underhanded and passive aggressive. It doesn't solve anything.

  7. It's the internet and you're not perfect! You might mess up! If someone calls you out on a questionable comment, action, or behavior, try to view it from their perspective. You're never going to make everyone happy all of the time, but it's necessary to recognize if your words, actions, or behaviors might be genuinely hurting other people. It's human nature to try to deflect blame when you feel ashamed, but it takes a big person to own up to something. It's okay to say, "I [or we] messed up and I'm really sorry for any hurt I may have caused." It's so much more respectable than giving a half hearted apology and blatantly telling people whether they should or shouldn't be offended by what you did.

  8. Try to get to know people. We all do that thing where we see accounts that we admire, and we want to initiate conversation, but we're too nervous to try. For all you know that person could admire you as well and be having the same internal struggle. Sprinkle some random compliments on people's pictures and see where it goes. Best case scenario: You make a new friend! Worst case scenario: You don't get a reply. That's not the end of the world and it doesn't mean they're ignoring you necessarily. Don't get discouraged. There's plenty more love to be found and spread elsewhere!
None of this is written to attack anyone or with ill intent. I just see a lot of hostility lately in a movement that used to inspire me daily. I hope things can change in terms of the atmosphere, because we have so many other things that try to tear us down as body positive people. I'd hate for us to start doing that to ourselves. I believe there are productive ways in which to discuss injustices, inconsistencies, and questionable words or actions, but we won't be able to effect change in society if we're angrily divided within. Continue to boldly love yourself, inspire others, and support one another!

body positivity

How I Found Body Positivity in the Aftermath of Bullying and a Breakdown

11:43 AM

In early summer of 2012, I was a shy 20 year old with a desire to break free. I still lived at home with my overbearing father who didn't allow me to experience average things people my age were doing. Going to parties, dating, and even eating Taco Bell were out of the question. He viewed his actions as being protective. I viewed them as smothering.



So, it was a surprising move for both of us when I boldly and hastily decided to move out one night. With the assistance of a friend and a police officer's presence for the safety of everyone (mainly myself though), I gathered the majority of my things and left behind a life of monotony for one of great uncertainty. Two friends I had made at work, who were also roommates, agreed to let me live in their guest room until their lease was up in August. This gave me just under three months to figure out a permanent living solution. Feeling a sense of pressure I never had before, I began asking around my job if people knew of potential roommate opportunities. I worked at an immense movie theater full of college of students about to start their fall semesters. Someone in this buttery smelling, soul sucker had to need one. And as it turned out they did. Well sort of.





A girl we'll call "Brooke" was indeed starting the fall semester at a nearby university. She, along with two other co-workers/university freshman, whom we'll refer to as "Camille" and "Diana", were planning on moving into an apartment near the campus. I didn't know the three of them that well beyond casual work place conversation, but I needed a place to live and they wanted cheaper rent, so we collectively agreed to live together. And when August came around, we moved into our three bedroom apartment in metropolitan Orlando.




The fact that there were more of us than there were bedrooms meant two of us would need to share the largest room. Brooke's argument was that she needed her own space because of all the sex she intended to have with a variety of female prospects. Diana's was blatantly that she refused to share a room with another person even if meant she would have to pay more rent. So Camille and I, being the more passive members of the group, agreed to split the master bedroom.


(The calm before the shit storm, or more specifically the day after we moved in...)


Things the first couple of weeks were relatively normal, until the ex-girlfriend of a woman Brooke had been sleeping with went insane one night. I was returning from a dinner date with friends, when I saw my roommates and the other two women in the parking lot in a tentative situation. Diana explained Brooke's new love interest had been hanging out at our apartment when her ex showed up wanting to speak. When Brooke and the woman both went downstairs to address the situation, the ex-girlfriend tried to run them both over, and things spiraled to the point we were at currently where the ex alternated between screaming and taking physical shots at Brooke. After repeated threats to call the police the ex-girlfriend eventually left. Brooke asked us if it would be okay for her new lady love to stay with us for a few days for the woman's safety while she figured out a permanent living arrangement. After the display we had just seen by the ex-girlfriend, we agreed. But a few days turned into the entire lease of the apartment, and within two months the new couple had also added a four legged family of two dogs and a cat to our small apartment.



I was less than thrilled with this, as were Camille and Diana, though no one said anything. I didn't get along with Brooke's girlfriend who I found rude and this caused friction in my attempt at a friendship with Brooke. In my mind I was fine with just hanging out with Camille and Diana anyway. That was until my closeness with Camille started to irk Diana. Camille and I both loved Harry Potter and she introduced me to Doctor Who which I quickly became infatuated with. I liked entertaining her geekier interests like going to a Star Trek exhibition and cosplay making. Camille and Diana had gone to high school together and they fancied themselves best friends, but they had very little to nothing in common. This is probably why Diana first started to feel resentful of me.




Diana handled her hostility of me very passively at first. I had been talking to a guy named "Eric" on a dating site who she happened to know somehow. She promised to put in a good word for me, but after some time I started to get confused about why he was replying to me less and not asking me on a date. She acted like a genuine friend and told me he wasn't worth worrying about and pushed me further in the direction of another guy I had started talking to. About two weeks later, I was sitting on a chair in the living room in my pajamas with my freshly washed hair twisted up in a towel when Diana walked in the front door with Eric. I was mortified this was how I was meeting him for the first time in person, and I couldn't wrap my head around why Diana wouldn't give me a heads up about this. It became crystal clear to me three hours later when I heard Eric and Diana, who had a long distance boyfriend in another country, having obnoxiously loud sex in her bedroom. I got another slap in the face when I arrived home from my new job the next day and saw a package of the morning after pill, Plan B, on the kitchen counter.




Diana apologized for her behavior and we called it water under the bridge. About eight months later, I ran into Eric and we realized Diana had told lies to both of us about the other so we wouldn't pursue a relationship. By this point, I had been seeing someone for a few months though, and Diana didn't make that easy either. I'll concede he turned out to be the absolute worst, but she would make rude comments about his appearance long before he showed his true colors. This didn't come from a place of empathy because she disliked how he treated me sometimes, but from a place of spite because she simply didn't like me having a taste of happiness.




She started treating our apartment like it was the Bad Girls' Club which she watched religiously. She began inviting the roommates out for dinner without me and tagging them in passive aggressive statuses on Facebook. I'd even come home from work and find my possessions destroyed on the ground which she blamed on Brooke's dogs. All of these jabs started to weigh on me and naturally affected the way I felt about going home. My unhappiness was displayed all over my face and in two separate instances they confronted me about my "resting bitch face", even going as far as to tell me I wasn't allowed to use "That's just my face" as an excuse for it.




My anxiety was so out of control, I began sleeping over friends' houses or waiting outside until all the lights in the living room turned off. On the occasions I felt too tired to wait outside after a long day of working two jobs, I'd walk in and quickly go straight to my room. I had stopped trying to make polite small talk with people who were awful to me. In response to this, they decided to have midweek mini parties where they listened to music, laughed, and got drunk as loudly as they possibly could so I couldn't sleep.




I put up with it for as long as I could, but eventually I broke down and couldn't take their bullying anymore. With few options available to me, I accepted a room in the house of a manager at the sporting goods store I worked at. I paid what remaining months' rent I was responsible for to the office without any intention of telling my roommates I was leaving.




I brought boxes home the night before I intended to leave under the assumption Diana would be at work and everyone else would be away for the weekend. My plan hit a snag when I opened the door and saw Camille doing dishes in the kitchen. In spite of living in the same room, we hadn't spoken much in months. She had been too meek to stand up for me to Diana, Brooke, and her girlfriend and that caused a rift in our friendship. I tried to quickly make my way to our room, leaving my boxes outside the apartment for the moment. As I took my coat and bag off, Camille walked in the room and asked if we could talk. I agreed and in a weird turn of events she apologized for everything even though most of it wasn't her doing. She said, "I was talking to a friend about this situation the other day and they asked me what you had done to initiate all of this. That's when it occurred to me you haven't really done anything." Hearing her say it out loud filled me with a little sense of peace. No matter what they did or said, I never once retaliated. They were as cruel as they wanted to be, but no matter how awful they made me feel inside I never let my actions match my feelings.




I told her how weird her timing and words were because I was moving out the next day. She apologized further for their actions pushing me to this choice, and offered to help me pack if this was really what I wanted. Even if Camille and I were on decent terms again, I didn't want to live another day under the same roof as the other three and the rambunctious pets. Diana, who hadn't as it turned out left for work yet, walked by our open door and saw the boxes. Camille explained that their actions had pushed me to this choice, but she refused to apologized. Instead her last words to me were "Well don't forget your bottle of Jägermeister on top of the fridge." And with a raise of her eyebrows she turned and walked out of the apartment.




With my things all packed and a mind full optimism about a new start, I moved out with the help of a friend the next day. Unfortunately, my bad luck continued and I decided to leave my new arrangement less than two months in when I realized my manager/roommate had gone through my things and taken my prescribed anti-depressants. A friend let me store my possessions in her garage, while another let me crash on her couch. I had a full blown panic attack in the bathroom of my clothing store job when the weight of not knowing where to live and how awful the past year had been finally hit me. I realized at that point I had no choice but to call my dad and ask if I could go home. I couldn't catch my breath as I cried and tried to choke out words on the phone, but I sputtered out enough information that within 45 minutes my dad showed up at my job. The assistant manager I had been working with that day was luckily very understanding and let me go home. The store manager was also very accommodating when I asked for a transfer to a location closer to my father's house.




It was at this new location that I discovered the body positive community on Instagram during my lunch breaks. After being relentlessly bullied and harassed by other females for almost year, it surprised me to see women who were strangers lifting one another up. They supported each other's inner peace making achievements and great body image days out of the goodness of their hearts. It was stunning to me to witness that love, and inspired me. It inspired me to accept my body for the first time in my life. It inspired me to be apart of something greater than myself. It inspired me to spread the love and positivity that had been taken from my life. The body positive movement was there for me when I was in a depressive, suicidal state and had no faith left in people. I owe my life to all the women who didn't know a thing about me, but helped me feel important and valid again. Three years later, I continue to try to pay forward the kindness that was extended to me. I aim to help eliminate bullying, assist people with mental health struggles, and eradicate the belief instilled in women that they need to compete with one another. We accomplish nothing when we tear each other down, but we can create and inspire change when we stand together and show love.

body positivity

How Cyberbullying Encouraged Me To #ShowLove

12:10 PM

Prior to writing this I was scrolling through Facebook status updates of people who had much more thrilling Sunday nights than I did.

"Wow, a roof top jacuzzi party...*scroll scroll*...couples' ice skating date, cute...*scroll scroll*...the Wizarding World, ugh, lucky...*scroll scroll*..."

But in the midst of sifting through memes and living vicariously through other people's fun, I saw a video that a friend* had liked. (*high school acquaintance at best, really) It's a compilation of a girl repeatedly saying "Hey guys, it's Nichole" as the introduction of her videos. At first, it seemed as though someone had made this video to mock Nichole, but after reading the comments it became apparent Nichole, herself, had put it together. The reason is unclear, but at this point it was being re-posted by trolls who naturally tried to be as nasty and soul crushing as possible.



"Drink bleach."


"If I looked like this bitch, I'd kill myself."


"This is why inbreeding is dangerous."




I've been on social media for close to ten years now, yet in spite of the fact I've seen comments like these countless times they never lose that harsh sting. More so, I never quit asking myself, "Why?"




Why do people like taking jabs at others?




Why don't they consider other people's feelings?




Why don't we just remove ourselves from situations we don't like?




Why do we only come together and raise each other up in times of tragedy?




Why?





For instance, about eight months or so ago, I woke up and checked the news and social media like I do every morning. Only this time I was met with quite literally a rude awakening. On my Instagram I had been added to a chat between two teenagers I didn't know. There were just messages upon messages of them sharing my pictures with awful things written underneath them, and typical disgusting troll pictures. 


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(Some of the charming snippets...)


This didn't upset me as much as it genuinely unsettled me. Why did me being visibly fat, a feminist, and not hating myself drive these two so over the edge that they would tell me to put a shotgun in my mouth? What would possess someone to say such things to a stranger? The security of a computer screen? Even then, why would you willfully want to be so cruel? 



What if I was in a bad frame of mind when I was scrolling through those messages? What if my self esteem wasn't at the level it was and my depression had crept back in? What if their harassment of me really was the thing that made me kill myself? Would they feel bad or, even more worryingly, would they feel happy? 




Why do we seek to make people feel terrible on the internet? Why do we not realize our vitriolic words don't just aimlessly float in cyberspace? They're read by a real person, with real feelings, going through their own real life problems. Why are we so self absorbed that we don't care how we treat others?




I went on to contact a youth pastor who I saw was connected to one of the trolls, who we'll call "Adam". I explained the situation to him and included screenshots. He sent me back quite a lengthy response about how "Adam" had been adopted and his start in life had been a rough one. He assured me his adoptive parents were "saints" and this was not a reflection on them, and he would be contacting them regarding the situation.




I never heard back about what had been done to handle the "Adam" situation. In a weird turn of events though, "Adam", himself, messaged me on Instagram to apologize and say his account had been hacked. I can't say I believed him, but I never heard from him again which was a fine ending in my opinion. I started out minding my business, and when the dust settled, I continued to mind my business...




On some level, I felt bad for "Adam". I also had a rough start in life and had been abandoned by a parent. We were probably more similar than we thought, but he allowed whatever trauma he had been through to eat at him. He channeled that pain and anger and projected it at other people to try to make them feel as bad as he had been made to feel. Whereas, I channeled my pain and anger and tried to use it to create light in other people's lives, so they never had to feel as badly as I have.




So today, and everyday, I'm asking you to show love. If you see someone on the street who's outfit you like, give them a compliment! Do you have a friend who's always there for you? Tell them you appreciate them! How often do you recognize a parent or guardian for all they've done for you? Life is too short to put off telling someone how much they mean to you. Do you dislike someone's personality/outfit/or physical characteristics on the internet or in real life? Channel those dated Kermit memes you're still sharing, and realize they are none of your business. Instead focus that energy on showing love to someone you do admire.




What's the point in trying to bring someone else down, when you could lift someone up? The world is full of so much ugliness, hatred, and pain. It doesn't need to be like that. You may think your one, small action won't carry much weight, but your kindness could mean the world to someone else. It could brighten their whole day. It could be the sign they were looking for to see that someone cares. You could literally save someone's life and not even know it.




You can make a huge difference. Whether you want your impact to be negative or positive is up to you. I hope you'll choose positivity and through your words or actions make the world a brighter place.




Show love.

-C
xx

Blog

Back Into the Swing of Things

3:51 PM

My first blog on my new blog! How exciting!

 This has been a year in the making. As you might remember, I had an old WordPress that I really wasn't proud of aesthetically speaking. I also found it tricky to blog regularly. I kept hyping myself up to think if I didn't have something really important or "groundbreaking" to say, what was even the point of putting up a post?

 Blogging and Instagram quickly became these things I felt forced to do, like a job. When something feels more like an obligation than a fun outlet, it's probably time to reevaluate things. I kept telling myself I was going to blog about my adventures in the UK, but I had no motivation. That's partly because my outlet felt like an obligation, but also partly because I didn't manage my depression that great while I was abroad. Not having a job is really fun for a couple of weeks until it sets in that's where you experienced most of your social interaction, and it gave you a sense of purpose every day.

 I cut myself off from most social media because it was just making me feel bad about myself most of the time, which is a blog for another day. In doing this, I lost touch with a lot of people and I'll admit I'm still struggling to find a place for myself on Instagram again. Again, a blog for another day.

 But I'm back in Florida, for the time being, while I wait to hear about the status of my visa to go back. Regardless, I'll be back in London to see my loved ones in March. It just depends if it's for a visit or if it's to get married. Keeping all of my limbs crossed, knocking on wood, and throwing salt over my right shoulder. Not kidding.

 Thus, with all my free time, I'm trying to organize my life! I had almost 5,000 unread emails which I've whittled down to 3,790. So...that's a small victory, people! Because I'm so shit at reading my e-mails, I'm just finding out now that I've missed out on photo shoot, collaboration, and interview opportunities which really sucks, and I apologize to anyone who's ever thought I was rude and just decided to never reply. I'm many things, but I try very hard to not be rude. I'm just really shit at replying sometimes. My friends can attest to this. Scout's honor though, I will do my very best to be more diligent when it comes to replying from here on out.

 I'm also getting back into the Instagram habit. Doing at least a post a day to get myself back into the flow of things, and it's been really therapeutic. I don't think everyone is feeling the mental health posts so much, but different strokes for different folks. I have to be true to myself and this is what's relevant in my life currently. And people, who I've never heard from, have been sending truly lovely messages of support and sharing their stories with me. Again, I'm sorry if I haven't replied. I'm doing my best! But I definitely read your comments, messages, and emails and they mean so much to me, so thank you for your openness with me.

 And finally, I'm going to keep myself preoccupied with this blog! It's definitely not all going to be about mental health, and the same can be said for my Instagram. There will be a body positive presence, as well as anything else I find the inspirational spark to write about!

 So, thank you for your support thus far, whether you've known me since my early Instagram days or you've just found me. I hope your support will continue as I keeping trekking along. 💖

 -C
xx


(I might include a song I can't stop listening to with certain blogs. Right now, it's definitely this one.)

Feel Peace

Show Love

Be Kind