NotBlueAtAll

I'm just a fat gal with a blog and an opinion. Well, lots of opinions.

Alone, Not Lonely

August15

I had not spent much time alone, like completely and with intention, until I was almost forty. Even at that point in my life, I can’t say it was with intention, at least at first. Now I seek it out with all of the intention in my very soul. It is a special sort of solace I didn’t truly think existed. I think it is a lost art form in some ways. I had read so many books on Buddhism, zen, feng shui, meditation, mindfulness, being present, and blah blah blah. I spent a good portion of my life seeking outside of myself what was always right there within me.

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Okay, that may sound very corny and all, but it’s also very true. I grew up with two siblings that I shared a room with. Even in the few years that I was an only child, my mother would often instruct me to go outside to play. Sure, as a child, I loved solo imagination time. I created epic dramas with my Barbies and stuffed animals. I imagined myself a Cinderella type of character and would build castles in the air about the day I would be saved. I concocted secret witches brews in my backyard with mud and leaves and bottle brush blossoms. All before the age of six. Ha-ha! Once I had a baby brother, though, everything changed. I was obsessed with him and he was (is) the sweetest lil’ bro a gal like me could have. (We have a younger sister, but we’ve never been as close.)
I spent so much of my childhood seeking joy and company outside of my house upon the instruction of my mother. When I was home I was care taking and tending to my two siblings (my mother being physically present but mentally incapable of managing). As I got older I spent even more time out of the house and with friends. I never questioned or thought about it or an alternative, it was just life.  Later it was boyfriends and housemates until it was just my husband and me.
When I left my marriage I stayed very close to my husband, in proximity as well as emotionally. We were still best friends. And he lived in the same apartment building as my actual bffs. My new roommate and I got to know each other over time and eventually became close. I was new to dating and had a new career path and everything seemed so new and exciting. Yet I didn’t know who I was or what I wanted in life, let alone where I felt I fit in this world.
At the time I had a very close bff with whom I would text every day and hang out at least once a week. They insisted time and again that I needed to be okay with my own company, that I should somehow force myself to be good with just me. That made no sense to me then, and really forcing anything is rarely a good choice. I struggled from time to time when plans canceled or a rough patch would pop up and I needed support. I would muddle through and not really give much thought outside of the issue at hand.
When I moved back to my home town and all of it’s awful triggers, and far from pretty much everyone I know and love, I was also out of work and still recovering from a spine injury. Isolation hit me like a ton of bricks. If I left the house I would get triggered and have a panic attack. If I stayed home I would feel stir crazy and start to climb the walls or consider self harm. It was maddening in a very real fucking way! PTSD is a terrible thing to live with, and I had gone so long without any symptoms that being faced with so much all at once lead to a complete mental breakdown.
I was applying to jobs everyday, interviewing constantly, and losing my fucking mind at the same time. I ended up being out of work for one year and one month to the day. Once I had a steady schedule, a job I excelled at, and a team that supported me, I felt more myself than ever before! I had been out of work for long stretches before, but never on my own. I had a boyfriend at the time who seemed supportive but it was only words, I would later find out. And while I have always had a great support system in my friends and chosen family, when everyone else is struggling as well, it just doesn’t seem right to ask of them too.
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I realized during this vast stretch of time on my own that it was the first time in my life that I’d truly and deeply had been alone. I was forced to process and deal with things that I’d never confronted before. I had no roommate, except for my puggo, and no one within 20 miles for comfort or whining or whatever else I felt I needed at the time. It was also the beginning of the end of a 4-year and completely sexless relationship (yeah, that…it never happened, not even once). Unwilling to let go of that very last tether, I simply held on until I could right myself and find my footing in the world again.
Then I finally couldn’t continue to settle for a smaller and less satisfying life than I had set out for myself when I left my husband. I broke up with said boyfriend. It took me a month of processing and mourning the relationship before I did what I knew I needed to. And then they talked me into giving them a second chance, something I hadn’t done before. Let’s just say I won’t be doing it again, either. Ha! So then that was it. I was truly and completely alone…only stoked about it!
For the first time in my adult life I had no paramours or beau, no crushes and no prospects. For the first time I wasn’t chasing or being chased and it felt surprisingly great! I’d been dating (or married) non-stop since I was 12 years old (technically 11, but only by a week). I decided to just fucking chill, ya know? And I relished in it! I read more, I hung out with coworkers more, I just felt more relaxed within myself and more my true self than ever.
When I was wrongly fired from that job (long story), I thought I’d be fine. It didn’t seem as scary as before and yet things felt way worse sooner than I could have imagined. Luckily my friends, former coworkers, and fat community held me up and encouraged me a lot. I was only out of work for three months this time and yet it felt even more desperate than the year previous. I had no safety net, no (selfish) boyfriend, no savings, and for the first time at that point no credit card to fall back on. It was the realest form of alone ever. I freaked out a lot.
To make some room in my non-existent budget I gave up the one thing that had been helping my anxiety so much, cannabis. There were days and nights that bled together and had me literally climbing the walls of my tiny studio/in-law unit. My puggo is a great comfort, but he can’t do it all, ya know? So this was just the toughest of times, and then the holidays hit.
I had never felt more alone in my entire fucking life until that x-mas, early evening. My nearest and dearest were out of town, my family estranged. I dove head first into a terrible bottle of red wine (brand was Bitch with a fab label, but do not drink that shit, trust!). I drank the entire thing in under an hour. Have you ever tried to fucking chug red wine?! DO NOT! I was not kind to myself that night. It was an old self destructive habit that crept up and snatched me, I swear! I guess I was just desperate to numb the pain, but there’s many more layers to it than that.
After sleeping it off, I decidedly pulled myself together and cooked myself a damned x-mas dinner, at 9 pm. Ha-ha! It was actually hella good. It was a Trader Joe’s Thanksgiving Casserole, I highly recommend it if you catch it. I ate that thing for a week, but I digress. I sat with my thoughts while the casserole was in the oven. I didn’t have any screens or even music on. I just sat on my bed and took a deep and hard look at my situation and myself and the life I wanted. It was then that I realized that being single was just alright with me. I had tried to date off and on after the breakup, but just lost interest.
That week between x-mas and new year’s was more of that same soul searching kind of thing. I decided to double down and really go all in on my job hunting. I know what I am capable of. I know what I can and have accomplished. I reminded myself of this and so did my bffs. My PTSD symptoms didn’t pop up this go ’round and I hadn’t had a panic attack in over a year. When January hit I was in full force and how! WHEW! I interviewed every single weekday for a 5 weeks solid and I mean in person and phone interviews, usually back to back. It was intense and exhausting and terrible but I did it and I found a job that fit!
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Having a job, especially one that I feel challenged and stimulated, needed and wanted, makes all the difference in the world. For my mental health especially! Without the usual workday schedule and social cues that go with it, I quite literally fall apart. Now that I’ve been at this job for 7 months, I feel pretty great! Still not dating, still no crushes. I have people who are interested in me like that, but one has become a friendship (thank goodness because they’re awesome just not a romantic match for me) and another who I just don’t even know what to do about (they text me “good morning beautiful” every single day, but we’ve only had 2 dates in 3 months). It’s fine. I am good on my own.
Something shifted in me a couple of weeks after starting my current job. I don’t know what and I don’t know how, it’s pretty tough to explain honestly. I tell my friends and joke about being dead inside but my lovely dance partner explained that it doesn’t seem that way to interact with me. Which is a relief but also just makes describing how I feel harder. Like, I don’t get as excited or upset about anything anymore. I feel things, but not most things. Prior to this happening I was considering seeking anti-depressants for the first time in my life, in the hopes of regaining my energy to do life things like housework and errands. Then when this change occurred it just felt like a relief in a way. Now I’m pretty darn comfortable with it. It’s better than feeling all the things or depressed or anxious all of the time.
I’m still me. I’m still fucking awesome. I’m just calmer, I guess. I rarely even cry anymore, which kind of sucks. A good cry can be very refreshing, even cleansing, or so the Victorians believed. There have been moments when this dead inside thing did make things hard as fuck. I had a conflict with a friend and there were tears and when they hugged me and were just sobbing into my shoulder, I felt nothing at all and it was hella awkward. Yes I said all the right things, but I’m certain it was weird for them, too.
A few people in my life have mentioned to me that I am much quieter than they have ever seen me before. What’s to say? *Shrugs* Seriously, though, maybe this is some sort of new coping mechanism since the world is almost literally and completely a dumpster fire at this point in time. Things were bad before I started this job and have only worsened, and yet I don’t feel nauseated every time I log into my social media accounts like I did then. Meh.
I still feel really good about being alone, though. I seek it out now! It’s odd and not at all what I would have expected had you told me this even last year! I enjoy my own company, I seek out new things on my own, and I ride my own melt. Life is good. It’s not great, but I’m grateful for every breath I get in this world. I have lost people I cared deeply for, some I didn’t know well, others I knew for decades. Cancer is an indiscriminate bastard! I was lucky enough to not lose my best friend to cancer, it was in their body, but it was removed entirely. I thank the stars above every day for that!
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I do feel as though I’m gaining some traction, as hard as things have been and seem at times. Stability is a wonderful thing if you can find it. I think I have minimized, ignored, pretended, and hid my mental breakdowns far more than I realized these last few years. I’m learning to be more open about it and face what happened in a very real way. Like, I know what my issues are, I know how to talk about them and do often, but being able to actually say, “Yeah, I have really struggled with my mental health for the last 3 years and have had a few breakdowns in that time.” is very new as in the last two weeks. It’s not that I wasn’t aware, but somehow saying the words felt like burdening others. Over that! Ha-ha!
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Thank you for reading. I have such a deep longing to write on the regular again. I just don’t know how to get it back. I will keep trying and you have my undying gratitude for paying any attention to this silly ol’ blog o’ mine. **Hugs**
Rad Fatty Love to ALL,

<3
S


P.S. Check out and use the hashtag: #FatAndFree on Instagram & Facebook!

Check out the Fat AF podcast on your favorite podcast app for all things fat sex with me and my BFF, Michaela! (You can listen straight from the web, too!)

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (and updated daily): http://on.fb.me/1A18fAS 

Or get the same “shared” content on Twitter: @NotBlueAtAll

Are you on MeWe? I started a fat-feminist group there called, Rad Fatties Unlimited, look for it!

I also have an Instagram, though I need to get back into posting there: https://instagram.com/notblueatall/

And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.): notblueatall@notblueatall.com

**I’m in love with my new glasses from BonLook.com, they just arrived yesterday, but I’ve wanted them for over a year!

Live Longer Through Community

April17
I’ve read a few articles lately about the one thing allows people to live longer and healthier lives and I was not at all surprised, though many have been. It’s feeling connected to community. I can honestly say without hesitation that without that connectedness, without my local fat community, I wouldn’t be here. Fat community keeps me alive when even I don’t want to be. That is the truth in it’s purest form, folks. I have gone through many big life events in the last ten years and fat community was there for me at each and every turn.
Your community may not be fat, it might be queer or feminist or all three of those things at once. Your community may be nature fungi foragers, only you know what your identities and people are. How does one find their community, though? Ultimately, that is something I cannot answer for you. I can say that you have to seek it out, that it may suck at first, you may feel more lost or unconnected, but you should definitely keep trying! My first several attempts at fostering fat community locally failed, but in the end I found my peeps and some lifelong friends, too.
My fat community finding/fostering began with setting up a meet up at a local mall. I think I posted on Fatshionista, a LiveJournal group that I adored and was popular at the time. It was more of a “Hey would anyone be interested in meeting up and going shopping together?” We met up at the Cheesecake Factory and it was my first time meeting folks of size outside of work/school/life things. I was still new to calling myself fat in a positive way. It felt radical to be meeting in public as fat people, we took up space and then some and it was awesome! We ordered our food without guilt, though other needs were discussed (for medical or other reasons). We chatted and relished stories of coming out as fat, so to speak. We had about 12 people, if memory serves me, from the entire spectrum of fat (babyfat to superfat, if you will).
After we ate we decided to hit up Torrid in the mall. I had only ever been to Torrid once or twice at that time, I didn’t really have a sense of my own style as I had spent my youth hiding beneath layers of baggy clothing to conceal both my fat body and my femininity. But I was soooooo stoked to be in a fat pack of awesome people cruising the mall together. Torrid didn’t know what hit ’em! One couple bought each other sexy things to wear and even modeled for us and it was so fun and empowering and visually dazzling! I bought two heart necklaces that I still own and wear regularly (I cherish them, even if they are plastic).
Next we headed to Lane Bryant, the only other option in that particular mall. At LB I did try on clothes and had fun with some of the other folks from the meet up in the dressing rooms. Just that feeling of, “Oh hey this is cool we all get that this is hard so let’s make it fun” sort of a thing. Like tossing each other things to try and others running to get each other different sizes. I recall a classic trench coat I had wanted badly, but even their 26/28 was ill fitting in how the buttons gaped. We discussed sizing bullshit and size-ist bullshit and it was a great time. I never really heard from or saw those folks again, save one.
I tried several more times and once I opened my own cafe I started a regular one on Saturdays there. It was great to have my own space and to host, something I’d never been able to before. Accessibility being a struggle, always, it was so important to me that my own cafe be open and inviting to all, but it was also a historic building where there were no ramps. My meet ups there were intermittent in attendance, but I was there and hopeful for every one we scheduled! More often than not, no one showed, but I shrugged it off and kept at it. Luckily I had also started this blog around this time and got to meet some of my readers this way. I made great friends at that time and some I still consider tried and true, though I’ll admit that others have come and gone, for better or worse.
I first realized that I had fat community, and that I was (am) fat community at a Big Moves dance show, the first I attended. It was also my first time going strapless in public and I was accompanied by my two bffs. I had chatted with Marilyn Wann online about something (honestly can’t recall) and we were to try to meet each other after the show. The show itself was a life changer! Never before had I seen such joy embodied entirely, start to finish. My cheeks hurt from smiling so much! After the show we waited outside, but Marilyn never showed. Through happenstance we asked a nice person nearby to take our photo. It just so happened to be one of the original Fat Lip Readers, former professional portrait taker, and the ever lovely and fabulous Carol Squires who supports Big Moves to this very day!
I did end up meeting Marilyn Wann at my cafe not long after. She signed my copy of her book, “Fat! So?” and even made me feel better about a haircut mishap I was feeling bad about (though the front was hella cute). Through these meet ups and Fatshionista and Marilyn, I was riding high on my fat activism and positivity at that time. It was 2011 and International No Diet Day was an epic event for me, still is. I met people at that “Flesh Mob” that I still call friends (I have written about it here).
Soon I was attending NAAFA and NoLose conferences, BBW Dance Clubs and a Bash and figuring out where I belong, if I belonged at all. The short answer is that I didn’t belong, at least not in those specific groups/conferences. So I started Fatty Affair, which was a fat positive event in San Jose, California, free to the public, that included performances, a clothing swap, a bake sale and vendor tables. It was intended to be a one-off event, but turned into two; the first in 2012, the second in 2013. I have had many people ask me about another (some downright demanding), but alas we outgrew our awesome venue and I have yet to find another suitable spot for our fabulousness.

It seems through all of the great fat things I was doing and attending, I gathered my own version of community close to my heart unwittingly. I began performing with Tigress in the annual Big Moves shows. I started to find power in my vulnerability and a strong sense of responsibility to do the very things for others that were such an inspiration to me before I was part of that world. That is what keeps me going. It’s a belonging, it’s a connectedness, but it’s also a community of misfits.
When you think about community as a basic word, we often think our neighborhood or schools, associations we may be a part of. When you think about what you truly feel connected to, when the chips are down as they say, what do you envision? Do you see your city council members or mayor? Do you see the PTA? Do you see your family and friends? What makes you feel most fulfilled and connected? For me that has been fat community, hands down.
I was recently out of work for a spell and not just down on my luck but truly heading towards dire straits. My blog’s annual hosting bill was looming and as the deadline drew closer I was afraid that I would have to lose it entirely. I didn’t want to ask for help, but didn’t know where to turn. I didn’t need to look far, my local fat community stepped up in a big way! I was so surprised and moved! It actually got me back into writing again, too! My blog saved and so many people wishing me well and sending good vibes and love, I felt connected and seen and humbled and inspired. You can’t put a price on that.
Rad Fatty Love to ALL,

<3
S

P.S. Check out and use the hashtag: #FatAndFree on Instagram & Facebook!

Check out the Fat AF podcast on your favorite podcast app for all things fat sex with me and my BFF, Michaela! (You can listen straight from the web, too!)

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (and updated daily): http://on.fb.me/1A18fAS 

Or get the same “shared” content on Twitter: @NotBlueAtAll

Are you on MeWe? I started a fat-feminist group there called, Rad Fatties Unlimited, look for it!

I also have an Instagram, though I need to get back into posting there: https://instagram.com/notblueatall/

And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.): notblueatall@notblueatall.com

Writing & Poetry

March16

I haven’t been writing here much lately but I have been writing! I took the cue from my horoscope about three weeks ago when it said I’d meet my next great love on a certain day. I dressed extra special that day (nothing fancy, just very me), and decided that I would go to a local independent bookstore (the last in my area) that I love. I had found a few books of poetry there years ago that really changed how I view the art form, but also how to write it. At the time it actually stifled my ability to write poetry. I began to hate everything I wrote and started to see all of my writing as whiny, teenagery, angst-filled bullshit (my own thoughts).

This time, I went with the hope of reconnecting with poetry and maybe even discovering a new writer or compilation book of poems that I could dive into. Alas, like meeting my next great love that day, it wasn’t meant to be. In fact I really struggled to like or connect to anything. I started going through the staff picks to hopefully find some direction or inspiration. I grew frustrated and moved onto biographies, again hoping to connect with something. Anything. But didn’t.
I finally went back to the poetry section and grabbed a staff pick that I’d previously put away. I decided to just buy it because I wanted to support the store, and half thought that perhaps another mood would benefit a reread of the poems within. I left the store disheartened. I had a silly daydream about reading a beautiful poem and getting caught up in the moment with an audible sigh when a kind stranger would see my expression and ask what I was reading and we’d fall into a deep conversation and live happily ever after. Ha-ha! Ridiculous, I know! So I figured I’d buy myself a nice dinner instead, only by the time I got back to my car I was just plain old sad. Driving home I even began to cry a bit, though not really having a specific reason to. (Not that a reason is required, crying can be very cleansing after all.)
The next day I took the book I’d bought to work to read at lunch. My usual lunch buddy was out of town and I figured it would be a good chance to reignite my reading habit. It worked! New day, new mood, and I loved the book! It’s called, “Milk and Honey” by Rupi Kaur and I recommend it! It’s beautiful and heart-wrenching and everything I love about poetry. And it got me to look at some of my old writing and see it in a better light. I’ve since written many new poems and have been enjoying it immensely! I have a small but steady notion to publish a chapbook, for no reason other than why the fuck not?! Ha-ha!
It does feel good to get some of these words that float around my head down in text. I don’t know yet how to go about the process of publishing my works, but perhaps just doing it myself is best. I’m not seeking anything other than to contribute to the world in my own small way. I was glad to come across a book about hating poetry but was itself a book of poems. It was lovely and refreshing, though not what I was looking for. It helped me get over my fears and hate of my own writing as well as the form of poetry itself.
I would love to get back into making art, but I think that will have to wait quite awhile before I start that up again. It takes so much time, supplies, space, energy and I’m just not there yet. I think I am getting there, though. I have been feeling so much better mentally, at least less bogged down by just internal terribleness. A local fat community member and big moves dancer/organizer passed very suddenly last week, Cindy Cutts, and it didn’t really hit me until Friday/Saturday. We weren’t close, but she was always very kind to me and encouraging and just a fantastic presence backstage at every show, and contributed so much to fat community. We’re close in age and her husband wrote the most beautiful blog post about her and I just cannot imagine such a loss. I have been avoiding social media for the most part as a result because the things folks have shared have been very moving but also bringing up a lot of things for me personally that I’m not wanting to process just now. Writing helps. Taking the time I needed to decompress on Saturday was necessary.
I’m hoping to have things to write about here soon. We should be close to publishing our second episode of the Fat As Fuck Podcast and hopefully find our groove for more to come. The feedback has been so touching and epic and inspiring and I just want to hug everyone collectively-virtually right now! Our time is too precious to waste. Tell people you love them when you can and you mean it. We forget how much impact our words can be, for better or worse. Spending time with my loved ones this last weekend really gave me some needed healing. I’ve been at my new job for over a month and really like it, so today isn’t as bad as it could be.
What are you working on or through? Do you write? Do you like poetry? What have you been struggling with this week? Are there projects or art forms you’ve wanted to try but have been hesitating? I’d love to hear from you!
Rad Fatty Love to ALL,

<3
S

P.S. Check out and use the hashtag: #FatAndFree on Insta & FB!
And the hashtag #DateMyDamnSelf on Instagram if you feel so inclined

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (and updated daily): http://on.fb.me/1A18fAS 

Or get the same “shared” content on Twitter: @NotBlueAtAll

I also have an Instagram I’ve finally started to actually use: https://instagram.com/notblueatall/

And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.): notblueatall@notblueatall.com

Outgrowing = Growth

December31

I think it is a very healthy and important thing to recognize the things and people in your life that you’ve outgrown. Often this doesn’t happen, though, and we find ourselves conflicted or in conflict with those things. Sometimes it’s obvious, but often it’s far from it. We will avoid things, facing them, because we don’t know or can’t acknowledge what it is or why you’re feeling a certain kind of way about it if you can even get that far. We often ignore our gut feelings about things in the name of manners, courtesy, obligation, and societal pressures. It makes it very difficult to move on or grow in this world.

Some of you have specifics in mind already. You know deep down what is no longer serving your life’s purpose, path or journey. Maybe you have a negative ninny in your life? A job that feels so heavy and pointless that you want to run screaming from the building every day? A friend who only calls you to complain? A person you’ve shared your life with that no longer shares theirs with you? A career path or dream that no longer lifts you up as it once did? A relative that leaves you wishing you were an orphan? There are so many things that just no longer feel right anymore, to me, to you, to everyone. It’s a natural thing, mind you, for things to run their course. The hard part is acknowledging it, of course, but then to take action. Okay, maybe even just deciding that action is needed, even before you get to what that action should be.

I guess most often this is in the context of a romantic relationship, but I think friend breakups are toughest. Sometimes there isn’t even an actual breakup, but just a break or a tapering or ghosting. I’m not sure what’s worse, but they all fucking suck! Family shit is hard, but I think most just stay entwined or under the spell of obligation, guilt, and shame. I’ve never believed the whole “blood is thicker than water” bullshit. Humans are human, flawed and terrible, fantastic and incredible. We will push others away without realizing it. Our behaviors towards them may change before we’ve even identified our feelings about them. We may begin to hide things or stop sharing things with them.

I have said before that the best way to tell how you really feel about someone deep down is that first instant that their name pops up on your phone, be it for a call or text or email. It’s such a quick thing we often ignore or shake off before acting, by answering or replying. Think about it, though, how does that moment feel? Try it. The next time anyone calls or texts, don’t act right away, just look at the name on your screen and think about what you’re feeling in that moment. I’ve often suggested changing contact names to what that person makes you feel. So, instead of “Pat”, you might change it to “Belittled” or “Insecure” when you know that isn’t who you are or want to be.

Of course, no one is perfect. Perfection is a myth, in my opinion. Only you know what is right or wrong for you. Creating healthy boundaries is a mature and awesome thing to do! That can be telling your mother that you will no longer engage in conversations about size/weight/diets/food/etc or an ex you no longer want to be mentioned. It can be setting an expectation together with your spouse or partner so that you both are on the same page and can act accordingly. Unexpressed expectations are dangerous and detrimental! I spent years and years in relationships where both parties held the other to expectations that were never spoken. Nightmare!

Consider open dialogues over ultimatums. I have never been a fan of ultimatums. Ultimately it only forces someone to make a choice on someone else’s terms and that just doesn’t fucking work! Life is never so black and white. When dealing with actual humans, emotions, struggles, baggage, trauma, survival, abuse, love, etc. you cannot force a decision or timeline. You can appeal to someone and communicate your needs and feelings, but if an ultimatum is what you’re considering, I ask that you simply walk away entirely. You cannot help or support someone by forcing them to choose something that doesn’t align with what is best for them. You can say why, of course, but demanding a choice be made is unfair at the very least (damaging and abusive at worst).

What’s great and okay is to read books and blogs on interpersonal relationships and communication. It’s healthy and awesome to seek counseling and therapy and more support in your life overall. You deserve to feel safe and supported in your life. You get to decide what that means and what that looks like for you! It’s pretty rad! I mean, what other point in being an adult is there?! Find a quiet moment to be alone and think about what this means for you. Paint a picture of what you want in life, what fulfillment looks like, what a good balance might be for you. Then think about what obstacles lay in your current path. Can you remove or change those? No? Can you correct your course to move around them? When you consider all that you’ve been through and have become as a result, how does that person or thing or relationship or environment fit in?

I think everyone and everything that comes into our lives is meant to teach us something. Though many of my life’s lessons have been learned through brutality, that hasn’t always been the case. It is sometimes through gentleness and love that I found that even the best of intentions can still hurt. That control can come in many forms and rarely do we believe that we’re attempting to control others, even when it’s pointed out to us. Sometimes we don’t realize how much has been taken from us or how long we allowed someone to shrink our lives around us. My last relationship was fulfilling in many ways, but I couldn’t shrink myself to fit into the box they wanted for us to live in and I never will.

Ultimately, to find and live your most authentic life, you have to decide for yourself what is right and necessary. It will be painful at times, as all big changes often are, but know that you are worth every ounce of effort and energy to find that path for yourself. It’s your journey, it’s your life, you cannot change others or make them see from your perspective, but you can remove them from your life. It doesn’t matter how long or how involved, if they are not lifting you up or helping you to grow, they aren’t supporting the life you want to live. So live it! Love it! Be the you that you know you want to be! It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks of you, their opinions are none of your business anyway. You will soon find that what aligns best with your life and dreams will be attracted to you naturally. Go get ’em!

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,

<3
S

 

P.S. Check out and use the hashtag: #FatAndFree on Insta & FB!
And my hashtag #DateMyDamnSelf on Instagram if you feel so inclined

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And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.): notblueatall@notblueatall.com

#DateMyDamnSelf

December30

I sit here wondering if it is just easier to do it this way, to sort of date myself. Exhausted by the ceaseless emotional labor demanded of me by any potential suitor reaching out through numerous dating apps. I ask each, regardless of gender, “Do you call yourself a feminist?” and their responses have all been the same, save for one (okay now two and I met the second Last Night!). I joke with my friends that I’ve become a sort of feminism 101 professor through these interactions. As many people as I have talked to through these apps, I have gone on very few actual dates because of this. It is the word of the year for fuck’s sake! My new motto:

Get with the times or get left behind!

Oh, that one, with the right answer? They were a great date! Like, a real and honest, nearly traditional, sit-down date. At an Italian restaurant no less. The date was filled with dazzling conversation that left me with great hope for a future date with them. They’ve traveled back home to visit with family for the holidays, but we have loose plans to see each other after the 3rd. They are brilliant in mind and conversation and a talented artist from what photos of their sculptures they shared in their profile. We discussed everything from UFOs and ghosts to body dysmorphia, art, sci-fi and video games. The food was divine and the company so great, I was sad to see it end but it had to.

I probably approach dating very differently than most. A friend recently insisted I was being unreasonably discerning by my declaration of a date wearing white jeans as a major red flag for me. It may sound shallow, but I assured my friend that someone who can comfortably and proudly (they were actually trying to impress me by wearing them) wear white jeans out in the world would have zero understanding of me or the lifestyle of the working class. It was a horrid date, something out of an old Seinfeld episode it felt like, but we all have our horror stories. Ha-ha!

I do not think it unreasonable in the least to insist that someone I might invite into my life, or bed, see me as an equal and whole human being. The fact that anyone in the world thinks this to be even remotely too high of a standard can fuck right the hell off! I refuse to be complicit in my own oppression. You wouldn’t expect a gay man to date a homophobe! Many cis-gendered, hetero males feel women owe them their time and attention, regardless of how they treat women in general. I will not stand for such nonsense, especially in my personal life, nor should anyone.

Feminism is not a dirty word. Feminists don’t hate men. Feminism is for everyone! Misogyny hurts everyone! Anyone who rolls their eyes at the word feminism/feminist is willfully ignorant and quite frankly a selfish and misguided asshole, period. Unpopular opinion? Perhaps, but I do not care one bit what the popularity level of my opinions are. I’m not here to appease or kiss asses, never will be. I’m living my life for me. I am creating a life of my choosing and creation. The folks that insist they are “good guys” aren’t. They just aren’t. That is not a thing! This isn’t an 80’s cartoon, good guys vs. bad guys, no. Not even close. This is me trying to protect myself from those that would harm me.

When I tell men (I date all genders, but get more messages from hetero cis men, currently) that the leading cause of death in men is heart disease and the leading cause of death in women is men, they often laugh or try to laugh it off. They don’t want to live in the real world. They don’t want to see women as equal and whole humans. They want to live in the world they feel safe and in control of. THAT IS NOT MY WORLD! I live in reality and I face it every time I leave the house. I know I can’t control everything, nor would I want to. Control is a falsehood, change is inevitable, and everything is temporary.

I will never be the grateful fatty, happy to gain anyone’s romantic attentions. Fuck that! I will always insist upon more. More than the typical, more than the expected, and please, far more than superficial. I would rather be alone and independent than stuck in a one-sided relationship again. Nothing feels lonelier than that. Besides, I already have the unconditional love and companionship of the most charming gentleman I know…my puggo!

So what does it mean that I want to #DateMyDamnSelf? It means I will put in the time and attention to myself when I go out alone or with friends, that I would for a potential date. It means owning all that I have and being proud of it because it is true! It means enjoying my alone time, practicing self-care, being a better friend and spending more quality time (as in walks and new experiences) with my puggo. It also means calling out folks who claim to be something that their actions prove they are not. I will only socialize with unapologetic feminists, regardless of romantic intent.

I have been struggling, but I am feeling so much better now. I have had a few loved ones in crisis lately and supporting them has made me feel seen, too. It seems my unabashed honesty and ability to see patterns and through other’s fake bullshit is a blessing after all! Ha-ha! Seriously though, this week has proven to me in a multitude of ways that there is no need to ever struggle alone or in silence. Reach out! You may have support and love in your life you didn’t previously recognize. Speak up and let someone know what’s on your mind and in your heart. People want to help, they want to support, they want to connect and love you. Let them, accept that you’re worth it…YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY WORTH IT!

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,

<3
S

 

P.S. Check out and use the hashtag: #FatAndFree on Insta & FB! And now my #DateMyDamnSelf on Insta, because why not?! Please, join in on the fun!

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall

Do yourself a lovely favor and join: feministstickerclub.com it’s $2.50 a month and it’s the best piece of mail I get in my mailbox every time! The flowery heart feminist image is a sticker from this club.

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (and updated daily): http://on.fb.me/1A18fAS 

Or get the same “shared” content on Twitter: @NotBlueAtAll

I also have an Instagram I’ve finally started to actually use: https://instagram.com/notblueatall/

And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.): notblueatall@notblueatall.com

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