NotBlueAtAll

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

System Overload, I Guess

May6

TW for brief mentions of r*pe, abuse, molestation, abortion


Where do you go when you don’t feel safe anywhere or with anybody? The internet? Peak triggering right now! I go into work, all smiles and professional attire, but inside, every day this last week, I am fucking screaming and crying and dying inside all at once. It is literally too much for my mind to process!

The Heard V. Depp Defamation trial has been soooo fucking triggering and terrible. I have lived through a similar relationship and allllll of the fucking gaslighting and internet fanboying over Depp has been nauseating at best, soul crushing and triggering actual flashbacks at worst. Throw on top of that the SCOTUS leak and then Mother’s day this weekend and I JUST CANNOT!

Having to unfollow and even block people over this shit is not what I expected from anyone I follow or share mutuals, but 2022 is full of fucking surprises, eh?! The media has been particularly violent and repulsive with shit like, “Can we really ever believe women?!” as headlines. 

Reproductive Justice has been a part of my life since I was twelve! Part of me still wanted to believe that they couldn’t take Roe away. In 2016 I knew better, but still…here we are. And all of the horrible memories of trying to access birth control covertly when my abuser was poking holes in condoms and flushing my pills and raping me on the regular all come flooding the hell back. Seeing folks gaslight fat folks over emergency contraception effectiveness and accessing healthcare, fucking appalling! 

Autonomy is pretty much my number one thing always. My biggest fear? Losing autonomy! When I had my surgery last year, it’s all I could think about. I would wake up from nightmares about waking up after surgery to find that they performed other procedures and removals and such, just horrible shit. Humanity knows no bottom when it comes to the horrors they will enact on “others” and we all fucking know this!

I want to write, like so badly, I keep starting and stopping. I have a formed thought but then it’s gone when my fingers hit the keyboard. There is something there that I want to get out but my brain won’t allow me to come up with the framework for it, I feel it, it’s just like NO BITCH NOT TODAY! So I wait and keep trying. It’s not fun to write about your own abuse survival, but it can help, and at the very least it can get me to push through some stuff so that other things can be processed. But my brain? Not having it this week. Too much happening!

On Sunday I will be attending a workshop for children of toxic mothers. Yeah, it will be mother’s day. That isn’t usually a difficult thing for me to deal with, but can occasionally be an annoyance. This year though, not sure why, it just feels extra terrible. I can’t even say that my mother was toxic. My mother was mentally ill, emotionally neglected, and basically unable to truly raise her children, so I did. Explaining to a beloved that I was never the little girl with or wanting baby dolls or to play mama like other little girls because at five years old I was already changing my new baby brother’s diapers. Wow! I still need to process that little factoid.  

Our brains protect us from things that we aren’t able to process or understand at the time. In my thirties I was constantly remembering shit I hadn’t for most of my life. Now it’s more random bits and bobs, but it’s also how I can see things differently now. I have so much more compassion for my mother’s now-obvious plight, but I don’t love or forgive her or her actions/choices. I can understand why and how and all of that, and I don’t wish her ill or spend energy actively hating her anymore, but I would rather not know or think about her and that’s the truth.

If anything I’m more mad at those she depended on for love and support in her own life and how they failed her at every turn. I do think she should have aborted me though and wonder if her life and mental health could have had better outcomes had she terminated the pregnancy. My parents did what they could with what they had, I’m sure. I am certain their intentions were good. But neither were equipped mentally or financially to raise children. Just my opinion. None of my newer perspectives or newfound compassion towards my parents changes that they did nothing to protect me from molestation or abuse. No one did. NO ONE! Not at 7 years old when I was molested by a family friend of my childhood best friend, and not at 14 years old when a 21 year old took everything from me and destroyed all that I was or could have been. All of my survival skills, and they are plentiful, I learned from friends or just figured out on my own from just trying to stay alive. I still have huge gaps in my basic human skills, but what can ya do?!

What gets me through is me. All that I have been through and overcome and have achieved on my own, it inspires and motivates me to keep going even and especially when nothing fucking makes sense in this world. My imagination is alive and well and ready to transport me where I need to be to feel safe and free. It’s why I prefer to be alone more often than not these days (covid19 still being rampantly infectious EVERYWHERE – I follow wastewater reports, y’all! – is also a big factor).

It is hard to imagine the (romantic) love I know I deserve in my life when I have never seen it in real life. I have never had the kind of relationship I’m “supposed” to. I’ve never had the kind of partner that sees me and supports me fully. It’s hard to even want what I do and know I should have in a partner when betrayal or abandonment is inevitable. I think I might, maybe, possibly, be ready for like an actual romantic relationship again, but the prospects and platforms for these things are beyond upsetting at this point. So I ignore it all and trust that when something is right it will just be right. I keep trying! I don’t even know why I do sometimes, but I keep getting back on that big dumb proverbial horse! Ha-ha!

The last two weeks I have had so many people tell me that I have really lived a full life, I’m so smart and knowledgeable, and “Sarah knows everything!”, “Sarah’s done it all!” when I see myself as so boring and basic. I know I’m not but I don’t feel like I do or say anything particularly interesting or special. At the same time, if I’m being real open and honest (when am I not?! Ha-ha!), I’ve also been absolutely full of myself in the best possible ways! Like I LOVE looking at myself in the mirror lately, even full length ones! Surely this isn’t allowed! Ha-ha! 

I love my own company, I have the best time. I put on music every night when I get home from work and allow the music to create some imaginary respite for myself. I linger and relish over my white wine spritzer and it never ceases to surprise me how quickly the ice melts! (Bota Box Sauvignon blanc with Vizzy watermelon hard seltzers, for the curious.) Food is food and rarely piques my interest these days but a human’s gotta eat and so I just stick with simple things I can easily grab from the fridge or freezer (spinach quiches for the win!). On weekends I have given the occasional Sarah concert to my adoring (it’s possible!) neighbors. Ha!

I miss my beloved puggo still so much it is truly unbearable but I try to keep going. I look at dogs for adoption almost weekly but always close the page before I can get through the pics and bios. I’m not ready. Puggo got me through so much so maybe I’m supposed to figure out this next chapter on my own? My gut tells me yes so I’m sticking with it until it no longer feels that way.

I choose to romanticize all I can in my silly little day to day life because it really does help a lot. I make rules for myself too because they can help me stay true to myself when my reaching for creature comforts can cause more bad than good (shopping!). Here I am writing all of this while complaining that I want to write and can’t! Ha-ha! I will never claim to make fucking sense, okay! The truth is that I am okay, but I am only just barely okay. My house is once again a disaster zone and I’m oscillating between giving zero fucks and way too many about it but my body is like TOO FUCKING BAD! So I make peace with it, with myself, with my body, with this life I have fought so hard to carve out for myself. I choose to trust in myself, knowing that I have survived so much and will continue to so long as I choose it. And I do! I choose to survive and keep on keepin’ on every damn day. I worry that I am too content in my aloneness. And then I just don’t care! Because that is also acceptable. 

***

I’m here for realness and sincerity, honesty and vulnerability, I’m here for the good and juicy bits of life that shine for me when I know I’m heading in the right direction.

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,
<3
S

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Better For Who?!

March4

“I want someone who makes me want to be a better person”


We’ve all heard this type of thing, right? Or someone newly in love saying they’re with someone “who makes me want to be better…” in whatever ways they are gushing about at the moment. Why does it take someone new to motivate us in this way? Why is this deemed something to aspire to in a relationship? 


I found myself in a situationship a few months ago where the other person really had no ambitions in life. They seemed resigned to working unfulfilling part time jobs (despite having degrees), living with their parents, and not even really pursuing their own hobbies or interests very much anymore. We met, had a couple of really great dates, and suddenly on the third date (my b-day) they told me they were in love with me. It was all too much for me, but also very fun and flattering and I quickly got caught up in all of their feels, without realizing they were not in fact matching my own feelings. 


They were all too comfortable in my apartment that night (third date), we had fun and all, and hey the sex was nice, but I didn’t invite or ask them to spend the night, yet they had an overnight bag in-hand already. I rolled with it, but in my head it really bothered me that they never explicitly asked that it was okay. They would do the same for two more nights, bringing more and more full-sized toiletries and sundries into my bathroom and bedroom. After a few nights of little to no sleep I told them they needed to go home. They assured me they would, but then got too stoned to leave at a reasonable time and truly tested my patience. I needed alone time, they left me with barely enough time to sleep!


Then I got a glimpse into their life by way of how they handled their “best friend” calling them out of the blue. They literally didn’t know how to handle it at all. At first they ignored the call, we were in the middle of picking food for dinner to order and go pickup, but upon my insistence, they picked up the call but appeared confused and distressed. They kept trying to look at my phone (where the menu was displayed) and talk to their friend on their own phone. The result was an overall rudeness to all parties that chafed me terribly. This continued, this half conversation with the friend who was only inviting them to a party, and their distracted half interest in the physical-present moment with me. When they finally hung up (after I insisted they take their friend off speaker phone – how fucking rude) I was shocked and appalled. They apologized for the phone call. I replied, “I’m more worried about how you treat your friends. I take friendships very seriously. If this is normal for you then this simply won’t work out.”
A week later I broke things off. It took four and a half hours of talking, crying, begging, pleading, bargaining, and completely refusing to listen to me when I tried to explain that I just couldn’t be in a relationship and that I needed to prioritize my own mental health as I had only two weeks prior lost my dog-son to illness after a month in and out of the ICU. My life was in shambles but this person had already decided that I was “the one” and that they had already begun to invest and improve many aspects of their life. I explained that I was happy for them and that they should continue to do those things because none of that had anything to do with me and everything to do with their own brighter future.


If you’ve never broken up with a cisgendered, heterosexual adult male, it is a trying and difficult thing in the best of circumstances. It became apparent to me very quickly as I tried to explain that I needed to break things off that this person had lived a very sheltered life and still clung to the few accolades they received in high school as though they were still relevant. They insisted they screwed things up and would make things right with me. When I explained over and over again that I simply needed to heal and grieve, they refused to hear me. I barely knew this person and they were on their knees and in tears begging me for a lifetime of love and partnership. 


I’m an empathetic and compassionate person, I cannot simply be callous in the face of heartbreak and pain. I was calm, I was patient, I wanted them to know that I cared but that I couldn’t be with them. I told them almost a hundred times that night that they did nothing wrong, this was me needing to care for myself, but none of it mattered. Once they felt they had lost something they believed to be fully theirs already,  they became so stubborn and obstinate that I finally insisted, “Do not make me kick you out tonight.” To which they replied, “You will definitely have to kick me out, I can’t leave if I don’t want to.” 


They began to list each new thing they had started to improve or invest in their life. They insisted they wanted me to meet their parents (I told them on our first date I never wanted to meet anyone’s parents). It became unbearably obvious to me that I wasn’t a whole person to them at all but merely someone to fill the void in their life and check all of their boxes for a girlfriend or partner. I asked them if they felt all of this on our first date and they admitted that they did. I had a hunch that they saw my profile on Tinder and simply decided I was their person. It’s bizarre but it happens. This isn’t even the first time this type of thing has happened to me.


How could someone you barely know inspire such passion, such motivation, such sudden desire for self improvement? I’m not here to blame or imply that there was anything wrong about this other person, simply that it wasn’t the right time or fit for me. They refused to let go and continued to text me for the next few days. I had told them I was going out of town to visit a friend and would have my phone off but that I wouldn’t block them but I also wouldn’t reply to them. Their texts were hot and cold, pleading and then flippant. Finally they left me a voice message that was very long and upsetting. I told them it was enough and they agreed. I thought it was done. I found out later that they had sent a friend request to my bff on facebook along with a lengthy diatribe about how “She’s a player and uses men all of the time! She’s no good!” and so on. My friend refused to screenshot the message but read it to me while I was driving one day. It really felt like they crossed a line by messaging my friend like that, but I told my friend that I wouldn’t do anything in response either way. I was done. 


The last time I remember being the one to say, “They make me want to be a better person!” makes me wanna laugh or barf to think about now. The person was a loser, obsessed with get rich quick ideas but did little to nothing in their actual life but the bare minimum, but I was dazzled by their good looks and seemingly hot job. Ha-ha! It took dating two different Googlers to say, “NEVER AGAIN!” Looking back I see now that there is a reason for this “better person” stuff. It is often the first time, or maybe just the first in a long time, that someone was looking at me with new eyes/perspective. They were reflecting only positivity towards me. Nothing shocking there, new relationships bring about all sorts of seemingly new and good feels. To have someone see the parts of you that you hate or others have disparaged and actually admire and adore those parts? It can be transformative. And it was for me then. 
What is interesting to me is that very few relationships have made me feel that way. When I met my ex-husband, while we were friends first, I never had that feeling of needing or wanting to grow/improve/invest in myself “for them” in that way. We met very young though and weren’t fully formed individuals then. We were together for fourteen years, mostly happy, but then we simply wanted different futures. We split ten years ago. We’re still friends. My subsequent relationships have been far less interesting and exciting, but certainly filled a need I had at the time in one way or another. No regrets! Ha-ha!
After my last LTR ended on a sour note (some people are just plain rude) I decided I wasn’t going to jump into anything again so soon. I wanted to take some time to get right with myself before sharing my life like that again. Previously, I had always struggled with being alone. I grew up the oldest of three siblings and always had to share. Even when I left my husband I moved in with a roommate. After all was said and done, I suddenly found myself alone, unemployed, and wanting to figure out how to be okay with that in a very deep and real way. I did not know what I was asking for! Ha-ha! 
I have C-PTSD, so silence was a big trigger for many years because silence meant something was wrong or about to happen. Silence would make my skin crawl. Silence was never to be trusted, and people less so. Some friends gave me an Amazon Echo around the same time and when I was faced with the possibility of being able to simply say any song or artist and have it play it, my brain broke. I sat there for almost thirty minutes completely frozen. I usually have at least two songs stuck in my head at any given time, so this was a shock. I had nothing. I sat there in silence. Hating it. Confused by it. Fighting it but unable to conjure anything at all, until I was finally resigned to it. I would eventually tell it to just play something eighties, and soon had music playing almost constantly. 
It was a dark time personally. I had been thrown under a bus by my manager and fired over the most petty nonsense ever. Soon my whole team would quit that place. I turned forty. I didn’t want to date anymore. I hated where I lived. The only thing I loved at that time was my beloved puggo. Everything just seemed terrible and so I shrank my life and world down to almost nothing. All I did was apply for jobs, interview for jobs, and walk and feed my puggo. I was barely eating, certainly not enjoying life in any real way, but it felt necessary. 
Then my former teammate reached out and asked that I apply for a job at her new employer’s office. I did and I got the job. After nine months I moved back to a town I love and got my own apartment for the first time ever. I still can’t believe it sometimes. But that time I spent alone, really and truly alone in the world and not seeking any sort of external validation, taught me so much. I’ve always known I was a survivor, but to be truly independent and on my own terms felt unreal and magical somehow. Even if what felt like a palace to me would be a shack to others, I was proud and started to truly feel good about myself and where I was heading. 
I know, I know, “What does this have to do with that whole being a better person stuff?!” The thing was, it was never dating or status or money or a job or validation I needed to actually be a better person. I just needed to get to know myself on a deeper, quieter level, without all of that external “noise” so to speak. So much of what we surround ourselves with is actually negative and not in alignment with our paths or passions. That is the “noise” I mean. The more time I spent alone, quiet and just allowed to be, the more I loved my life and myself, and of course that amazing puggo. 


I have a lot of past birthday related trauma, so I often try to peace out so I don’t have to pretend or possibly get triggered and lose my shit. Feeling quite good about where I was headed back in 2019, a colleague insisted that I should do the things I was wanting to do but holding myself back in fear. “No one can do that for you, so just do it!” So I booked my first solo travel adventure to Hawaii and not only checked off something that had been on my bucket list for ages (visiting a seahorse preserve in Kona and holding a seahorse), but it was also a life changer. Yes, Hawaii is beautiful and special and if you do it right you don’t have to have a negative impact on the nature or culture there. For me it was about getting out of my comfort zone and routine and finding my inner peace. I found it! And I actually slept so well the first night that I woke up refreshed for the first time in my entire life! 


I’ve had insomnia pretty regularly since I was twelve years old. Waking up refreshed always seemed like something that only happened in commercials or movies. I have always hated mornings, even when I owned a cafe and had to get up before the sun each day, I got used to it but never enjoyed getting up. That first morning in Hilo was magical! All I could hear were nature sounds. What sounded like a bajillion frogs, singing birds, rustling trees in soft breezes, the gentle lapping of the waves at the shore nearby, all became a symphony. The air smelled sweeter! I visited the lava flows that day on my own in my rental car with The Carters and Lizzo to keep me company along the way. I couldn’t stop smiling and singing. It was so surreal to see the landscape change from paradise to post apocalyptic, but it also felt comforting in an odd way.


I had no one to share this magical experience with. It didn’t bother me or make me sad, it was simply a fact and I accepted it and was committed to enjoying myself as much as I possibly could. The next day I visited that seahorse preserve and stayed the night in Kona. The next morning I woke up refreshed again. All I could hear were the waves. I stretched out in the king sized bed in the condo I rented and relished in the moment. Every part of me felt in harmony, inside and out. I went for a drive and got some yummy coffee and checked out some little shops but found myself in a sad mood on my birthday. I was nervous about the activity I had booked for myself that evening, but maybe also excited. 


I wanted to be excited but there’s so many things that can happen when you’re just trying to do regular things in the world when you live in a fat body that I was getting increasingly anxious about going snorkeling that night with manta rays. I had never snorkeled either, but I am a decent swimmer, and it said kids were welcome. I got a massage to try to relax and calm my nerves. I had a mimosa on the balcony of the condo at sunset and texted my friends about my adventures. Then it was time and I headed out to the dock to meet up with the boat crew. It all went great and I had the time of my life! The manta rays would swim up and do backflips almost a foot away from my face! It was exhilarating!


I drove back to the condo exhausted, wired, and starving, so I stopped off at a Taco Bell drive thru for my bday dinner. Ha-ha! When I got back to the condo I put my feet up and scarfed down my tacos with glee. Feeling fully satisfied, I put something silly on Netflix and just sat there for a few minutes when it hit me: Bliss! Peace! I felt so satisfied with just everything in that moment. All that I had been through, all that I had done or even given up, all that I had chosen and moved towards and it was all syncing up and I felt so at peace. I then had like the best shower of my life and slept better than ever, again awaking refreshed. 


I realized that this waking up refreshed business had everything to do with not having the “noise” of others around me. Not that where I was staying was secluded at all, in fact it was a tourism hot spot, but I don’t just mean people in general. I mean the “noise” and influences in our day to day life. The things we must say and do in order to keep the peace for others, in order to get through the day, in order to keep our jobs or a roof over our head, the mask we must wear in order to live in a capitalist society that fails us all every single day. It’s a lot! We don’t even realize it because we’re so used to it. It feels normal because it’s all we know. That inner peace stuff always felt like some myth or mystery only to be unlocked by those worthy or studious or whatever, certainly not me.


You don’t need to go to Hawaii to find your inner peace. In fact, please don’t, the Hawaiian people are struggling and we should do all we can to support them and not invade or make their living conditions (ie drinking water) worse. You can find that peace within yourself. Not through meditation, though that works for some, I could never quiet my mind enough to actually get any benefit from the attempts. Much of life is in the trying though, and I put value in that for sure. Much of getting anything or anywhere on this journey of life is simply showing up. So how do we find this peace and show up for ourselves? Why do we rely on others as a cue to want to better ourselves? Why does it feel impossible to find a mate? Why does it feel far fetched to find inner peace? I don’t consider myself a dreamer. I don’t really feel that I have any dreams like I once did long ago for my future or whatever. I do think life is a journey and what you put in you will often get back in return, but not always. I don’t believe that anything in life is meant to be or fair. Things happen, nature takes its course, you can learn and grow and move on, or you can wallow in your misery and get stuck. I got real comfortable in my own misery. I cast myself in the wrong movie, you see, and found that I was “just fine” in its sad storyline, until I wasn’t. 


Even when I was dating physicists, oncologists, security engineers, developers, and millionaires, I just wasn’t feeling it. Even though these suitors were high caliber, even at the top of their fields globally, and definitely into what I had going on, it wasn’t right. Because they had focused so long and so hard on their careers, these people weren’t emotionally equipped to connect with others at the depths I was seeking. Even deep conversation was a lofty goal for some of them. I soon became far less dazzled and intrigued by the usual resumes found on dating sites and stopped dating entirely for a couple of years. I thought at first that there must be something going on with me to not feel as into these people as they did me. 


I don’t care what a potential suitor does for work, so long as it isn’t a torment in their life. I don’t care what kind of car they drive or brand of clothing they wear, I only care about getting to know someone and connecting. That’s it. It seems so simple and easy but boy howdy is it not! If you’re dating cisgendered, heterosexual males, you are dealing with humans who have not been socialized to develop many likable traits or even a full personality. Many don’t have a thought of their own in their head to share, yet they are deemed successful by society because of their degrees or career or their possessions and status. 


We often talk about what people are bringing to the table. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want anyone to bring anything to my table but their whole selves. I don’t want anything material or monetary, I want realness and truth. I want people in my life with flaws and big hearts. I want people who haven’t had it easy and have found a way to be true to themselves anyway. A degree sounds good or looks great on a CV, but when it comes to love and romance and building a life with someone, it doesn’t mean shit. You can only learn so much in traditional schooling. You cannot learn to love yourself there. There’s no degree in being a good person.


I don’t need a person to share my life with in order to feel fulfilled and I know this now. I am actually and truly happy on my own. It is a little scary, to be honest. Scary to be so contended with one’s own company that I cannot imagine wanting to live with another person again. Another person in my space? Yikes! No thank you! Ha-ha! I mean it, but I also know that life has a way of showing us what we need when we need it to. So I have faith in myself and that what I am doing is right because it feels right. I dip my toe into the dating pool from time to time but it’s not something I feel that I have to do in order to fit in or feel complete. I am a fully formed and whole person. I don’t need someone else to feel complete. I can live as big or as small of a life as I want to, and that is liberating!


I don’t think most folks have had the time or desire to really just be alone with themselves and to truly get to know their own nature on a deeper level. I know I didn’t for a long time. It is hard to face. It is hard to hold yourself accountable for your own growth and fulfillment. It is so much easier to look outside of yourself or your life and seek/find fulfillment there, or to blame others or just circumstance on what is lacking in our lives. It is what’s expected. Get the degree, get the career, get the car and the house, get the spouse and the kids, live happily ever after. But that is not how my story goes. There is sooooo much more to life than just the obsolete nuclear family fantasy. 


When you do get to know yourself, when you can fully trust your instincts and know your needs and wants, all of that other stuff feels so silly. If you’re seeking happiness as a destination, you have already gotten lost! Happiness is a benefit or a passing but hopefully frequent feeling. It is the result of being on the right path for you. It is not somewhere you can just plug into your GPS. Happiness and the true meaning of life, I think anyway, is connection. Feeling connected to others, to ourselves, to our community, not only brings feelings of happiness but also increases longevity. That is a fact proven by science! When we feel more connected we are happier and live longer, regardless of our lifestyle or health.


I don’t think any of this is a secret but it may feel that way. I know it did for me for a long time. What we want from connections matters too, though. I think intent/motivation plays a larger role than we want to believe it does. If you wait for someone to come into your life to shine a light on the parts of you that you didn’t like so that you can be a better person, it’s a half truth in a way. Or a half life. To do it for yourself because you know you deserve to feel happiness and fulfillment is something wholly different. So much of what we feel about ourselves inside and out has nothing to do with our own thoughts or beliefs at all! So much of it is society, capitalism, beauty standards, religion, or familial obligation. 


We aren’t born into this world hating our bodies or assuming we are wrong simply by existing. This is all pressed upon us from such an early age we have no memory of it. And it is all so socially accepted that few even question it at all. If you can get rid of all of that for even just a day, and just sit with yourself quietly and listen to the true you inside, not the negative plant begging for water/attention (ego), you will find that peace you seek inside of you. You will find the parts you want to improve or regrow, they will become apparent. You will see that you’re not wrong, you were hindered. 


Look, our parents did what they could with what they had at the time, and as we get older ourselves we may see the effects our upbringing has had on our lives and ourselves. It is up to us as adults to re-parent and better support ourselves in the ways that work for us now. It means not allowing the negative self-talk to take over but to acknowledge that the thought is there but it doesn’t belong to or come from the real and true you. You can picture letting it go like a balloon, if you’re the visual type. You can picture it as an poisonous plant that keeps trying to take over the lovely garden that is you! If you water (give attention to) the negative plant it will grow and take over. If you ignore it and deprive it of attention, it will wither. You can water the rest of your garden and allow your inner self to flourish. When you do you will soon see that this can have a ripple effect on the rest of your life. 


You are worth showing up for. You are worth trying for. You are worth every ounce of effort and energy there is in the world in order to feel better about yourself and who you are. Where you live, what you do for work, what you possess materially, those are not who you are. Marie Kondo cannot tell you what brings you joy, only you know that part! Fads pass, retail therapy is so fleeting, but you are with you for life. This is the relationship we need to nurture and cherish and protect from harm. When we do this the rest really does follow! 


We can better ourselves now, without paying for it or seeking permission externally. We can be our best selves every day. What that looks like will change, maybe even every day as well. And why not?! We are constantly growing and absorbing new information, so we should accept that our best selves are constantly changing too. We can take inspiration from anything but I choose nature itself to be my muse. We have worked so hard as a species to separate ourselves from nature, but that is where true connection lies, I think. The more connected we are to nature, the better our understanding of our place in it and our impact on it and each other. With that in mind, how could we not want to better ourselves?


It feels impossible to find a mate because we seek something outside of ourselves in the hopes of “having it all” or finding happiness. That isn’t how it works though. You gotta know that by now! I’m not saying you can’t find love until you love yourself. I am saying that the love you find is where you are at in that moment of your life. It is up to you to decide if it is right and sustainable for you or if you’re not ready for your ultimate love yet, like I am. I’m still very much loving my solo life and almost sort of falling in love with myself in a way. I don’t want someone at my table or to bring anything to it. When I’m ready, I am certain that another person will come into my life when they are ready and whole and loving themselves too. I imagine the connection will feel like waking up refreshed. I want that for all of us. We deserve it. But so few of us realize it or put in the work to get ourselves there, ya know?

***

I’m here for realness and sincerity, honesty and vulnerability, I’m here for the good and juicy bits of life that shine for me when I know I’m heading in the right direction.

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,
<3
S

Check out the Fat AF podcast on your favorite podcast app for all things fat sex with me and my BFF, Michaela! (We only recorded a few episodes but they were good!)

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall currently donations will be given directly to Black women in need through my network.

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (updated frequently and not just about fat stuff): 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’m also on Space Hey: 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

Who The Health?!

March1

We’ve all seen similar stories covered in our local news or even in our news feeds online, “So and so was a nurse who loved snowboarding with their spouse and doing things in their community until one day they injured their back lifting a patient and later found they couldn’t move without excruciating pain.” and then they get into all of the care they were offered, therapies tried or meds prescribed. They get into how their life was taken away from them by the pain. Now house or couch bound, hope seemed all but lost. Then one day something they were offered works and “now they’re running 5k’s again! Isn’t life full of miracles!” BARF! Look, I’m not a full on hater here, but we’ve all seen these stories of otherwise socially acceptable-bodied individuals getting everything offered and thrown at them so they can “get back to living!” and all of that. The reality for anyone outside of what is deemed to be a socially acceptable-body is far more grim.

I know so many people, myself included, who have lived with chronic pain for over a decade. We have had to bear witness to our own limitations increasing along with the pain. Because we live in bodies deemed “other” we don’t get offered anything but enforced suffering or outright denial of our personhood. It is so appalling and degrading and wrong and yet this feels more common than those feel good stories will ever be (at least in the USA). I’ve had well meaning friends insist I get my right knee “checked out” and all I can offer back as a response is a slight smile because I can’t do the emotional labor of having to explain the failings of our healthcare for profit system and how it seeks to do anything but care for us. It seems an easy thing to say, hey go see a doctor, but the reality is so fucked up I can’t go to a doctor’s appointment or even the ER without first fasting because they will see my fat body and immediately pathologize it/me as diabetic (I’m not, but that is beside the point).

The way hospitals and doctors treat those in pain is absolutely horrific to me. I was accused of being both a drug seeker and not in pain at all when my gallbladder failed and I had to drive myself to the ER and refused morphine or any other pain meds. I explained to the team caring for me that I wanted to be clear headed so I could make informed medical decisions for myself and their reactions were akin to seeing an extraterrestrial. At one point the doctor looked right at me and said, “I’m not even sure you’re in any pain.” and smiled at me. I looked them dead in the eye and said, “I came in here at a 9/10 and you’re saying I’m not in pain? I’ve been vomiting from the pain alone!” It would take another 3 months to get the correct diagnosis (after 3 wrong ones) and another 9 months after that before I could get on the schedule to have my gallbladder removed. And mine was a common and relatively straight forward procedure. Imagine if it was rare or involved far more complicated issues?!

If you are white, able bodied, and below a size 14, you get treated with care, urgency, and kindness. If you are anyone else it is an absolute crap shoot! If you are Black, fat, queer, non-binary or trans, you will be forced to prove yourself and your humanity at every step if you’re lucky enough to get past the initial “Oh maybe there is something medically going on with this person” and that is a tough one to get past. I know some pretty incredible, talented, brilliant and the most caring of people and the level of pain they live with day to day absolutely boggles the mind. I say this as I am coming to terms with my own chronic pain. Realizing all of these years later the damage past jobs have caused to my body and how those 11 months of excruciating pain changed me as a person but also took a lot of my mobility away.

To seek any kind of treatment is like gearing up for battle. One must steel themselves before opening up to medical professionals these days. We must advocate for ourselves and ask ridiculous questions like, “What would you offer as treatment to someone in a smaller body with this same issue?” because we know the only “treatment” we are ever offered is to shrink our bodies and suffer in pain regardless of scientifically known outcomes. Many physicians won’t even physically examine our fat or Black or disabled (or all of the above) bodies. To them we are a nuisance at best and repulsive at worst. It is at the hands and words of these so-called care providers that we get the worst of the abuse and trauma thrown at our bodies and minds. What about the lives we were meant to be living? What about our contributions to community or the world? Just because I have no desire to run any k’s ever, doesn’t mean I should have to suffer and lose mobility or be denied treatment. And the shit thing is, even when we are offered treatment for pain relief (often meds), it doesn’t even mean it will work or be sustainable. I have friends who get regular cortisone shots in their spines and knees and hips and things just to barely get by. They are not thriving, they are functioning at a very low level, but not because of anything they have done or deserve at all. As if being a good or bad person should have anything to do with getting the medical care and attention one needs. 

Living in a body deemed as “other” means having to ask again and again for accommodation. Will the waiting room have a seat I can use comfortably? Will the hospital gown fit? Will I be able to get up on the exam table? Will I be able to get up onto the x-ray table (that thing is tall!)? Will I fit in the MRI machine? Will they have a back/knee/arm brace that fits me? Will I be denied surgery due to my size? And all of this is before we get into insurance coverages, co-pays, or final billing amounts. UGH!

There needs to be a massive overhaul of our entire healthcare system, but failing that (because it has always failed us), a paradigm shift so that simply seeking relief from horrible pain isn’t seen as “drug seeking” or simply being a “big ole baby” (the way nurses talk about patients when they don’t realize we can hear them! Whew!). I think there have been some recent attempts here for better and more accessible tele-health options. I think I read about one specifically aimed to help fat folks get better medical care too, forgive me for not knowing the name (please comment if you know it!). I think it’s a great idea and good first step in the right direction. I wonder to this day if I would have gotten the same correct diagnosis from a surgeon I never met because they had a hunch on over the phone. If they saw my fat face would they have still ordered that one last test? Would I still be suffering from a zombified gallbladder? I can’t know, but I have a hunch. 😉

Because I’ve had such physical jobs in the past I have also been injured on the job and had to go through worker’s compensation processes in order to get care. In case you didn’t know, you cannot just go to your regular doctor if you get hurt at work. Nope! You have to go to an occupational clinic and lemme tell ya, both times I had to do this they treat you like a scammer the second you walk through the door, no matter your actual injuries. It is utterly dehumanizing and I hated it so much. Having said that, they did have a back brace that fit me and it has been a life saver for me over the years since I’ve had it. But there was zero care, zero compassion, zero empathy in these clinics. 

I don’t really have a big point here other than just UGH FUCK THIS SHIT! I am currently in need of an eye exam (I’m way overdue), a dental cleaning (and like many thousands of dollars in dental work that I likely won’t ever actually afford to get and thus have a tooth rotting out of my head), and either physical therapy or chiropractic adjustments/treatment for my knee (I feel like it’s misaligned at my hip maybe). Only the eye exam and teeth cleaning would be covered by my insurance and I have pretty damn great coverage, all things considered. Yet it is somehow on me to “BE HEALTHY” and all of that bullshit thrown at us in marketing campaigns every fucking day of our lives. Health in this way is not accessible or even attainable for everyone. We all need to let go of that notion. 

No matter your life or lifestyle, being able bodied or healthy is temporary at best. There will come a time when you will need medical care/attention/treatment. This is simply how bodies work, they break down over time. Just because my car guy says that my little Toyota will “run forever” doesn’t mean that I will. My running days are long gone. I wish I could just go in for a tune up like I can my car! Ha-ha! I really hope I can find a chiropractor who will treat me humanely and with compassion because I have some childhood trauma from chiropractors that I’d rather not revisit but also unafraid to, ya know, because I think it’s my best option for my knee knowing what I do about going to the doctor for such things. And I think it’s perfectly “healthy” to be pissed off about all of this! Because it’s fucking maddening and we all know better, dammit!

I saw a post in a group I’m in on FB yesterday asking if everyone is always denied knee replacement and must suffer many years of pain and mobility degradation or if smaller bodies get approved for these procedures right away. What I thought is what I saw in comments, that yes smaller folks get more approvals, but more often than not it isn’t the patient that is the issue but the “success rate” of the procedure as far as longevity. One person said they knew someone young and thin who was denied and forced to suffer for decades because it wouldn’t be viable to do it again at age 60 if they did it in this person’s twenties. That person died in their early thirties because they also had seizures, and living with the pain, decreased mobility and a myriad of meds, lead to their quality of life degrading. Had they had the knee replacement they could have survived the seizure that took their life away because the other issues that came after would have been prevented. But it is doctor’s who insist on these “success rates” and such because to them it’s about “the work” and never the human receiving the procedures.

To be told to lose weight in order to get necessary medical procedures/surgeries is inhumane, cruel, and dangerous. You are telling someone that their pain and their life mean nothing if they are not such and such a size. You are telling us all that we do not matter to the world in any capacity unless we accomplish what no scientific study to date has proven to even be possible! What the hell is the point of that?! You might as well ask me to jump over the Empire State Building as it is just as likely to be possible! Even if it was possible to lose weight (insert the biggest eye roll emoji here), how could anyone expect to accomplish this while suffering in excruciating pain? To look someone in the eye and insist that their life is in their own hands in that most vulnerable of moments?! Are you fucking kidding me?! We should all be glad that I am not in a position of power and punishment doling because I would have a special sort of place juuuuust for such “care givers”.

The stigma our healthcare system has custom built-in for itself to deny care to as many people as possible is also claiming it is all our own faults for being fat in the first place, regardless of what our medical needs actually are. Not to mention the fact they no one truly knows for certain why populations of humans, and many other species, have increased in size at the same rates globally. I’m no scientist, but I read a lot of articles written by them. I know that no scientific study has ever found a way to lose weight in a safe, meaningful (as in more than 10 lbs), and permanent way, ever. So when a doctor gets on their high horse about this stuff or reached for the stomach amputation pamphlet (they always do), I ask them very pointedly if they consider themselves a believer in science. Not that I think belief has anything to do with science, but you know what I mean. Someone who studies science and uses its principles in their work should not be offering suggestions of health organ amputation to anyone! Nor any other ridiculous method of weight loss getting hyped up today. They should know better, they are paid and educated to know better, and yet they and the insurance companies refuse and we are left to suffer at their hands and willful ignorance.

May the force be with us all.

***

I’m here for realness and sincerity, honesty and vulnerability, I’m here for the good and juicy bits of life that shine for me when I know I’m heading in the right direction.

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,
<3
S

Check out the Fat AF podcast on your favorite podcast app for all things fat sex with me and my BFF, Michaela! (We only recorded a few episodes but they were good!)

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall currently donations will be given directly to Black women in need through my network.

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (updated frequently and not just about fat stuff): 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’m also on Space Hey: 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

Lucky Thirteen!

December13

It’s been thirteen years since I started this blog. A lot has changed with me and the world. I’m still fat, still wordy as fuck, and still rolling right along. There are times when I feel there’s nothing more to be said, in general, but also about living in a fat body. I know that isn’t true, but it’s a feeling I get sometimes. At the ripe and juicy age of forty-four, I no longer have a lot of the insecurities I used to carry with me. I have worked hard over the many years to heal from my trauma and abuse, to be more present, to be mindful of others and my own impact on them, and really to just live the life I have always wanted to. I am no longer at odds with my body. I love my body, it’s fucking awesome, and we’ve been through so much and we’re not done yet!


I recall vividly the person I was then. I wish I could hold her now and tell her it will all work out for the best. She was frightened of so much, but also of being herself. I didn’t know how to dress my fat body. I had loved fashion from an early age but also dressed more as a tomboy than not for the first half of my life so far. I remember the great discomfort I felt within my body every single day and how no matter what size I bought no clothing ever felt comfortable. Options were far more limited then, certainly. I also didn’t allow myself to even consider more femme forward looks, though I did dabble occasionally. I mean one does not possess the bountiful bosom that I do and not see its potential. Ha-ha! 


Now I see myself as my truest form, the most authentic and least fearful I have ever been. My style has changed greatly. I don’t even wear pants anymore. I don’t rely on tights or teggings to cover my legs in shame. No, I let those babies out and let the world worry about it. Ha! I still don’t feel great about my legs, but I no longer let it hold me back or affect my comfort. I have a better understanding of what styles and forms look best on my body. I do still wear my Doc Martens with dresses but that is just who I am as a person. I do not allow diet talk in my presence no matter the setting, yes even at work. 


I have had to sever or let go of some folks and relationships over the years. The ones that matter are still around. The rest I wish no harm. My boundaries are both stronger and healthier than ever. I’m pretty pleased with that. I’m in a great place in my career and feel more a part of a team than ever before. If I look back even a few years I can see very clearly how far I’ve come. That’s not to brag, it was hard won and alway and still a struggle. But stability is something I’ve never had and it feels like it’s where I’m at right now, even if I refuse to admit it. Even when haters want to throw stones, they bounce right off because I know the work and the good I put out into the world and need no outside validation. 


While my on-the-street type of activism days may be over, I am still informed and involved in ways that I feel I can be helpful. Mostly that means supporting financially, signal boosting, and other forms of virtual involvement. I miss my local fat community terribly. I miss the dance shows and other fun events. I know they’ll come back eventually, but I know we’ve also lost folks in the community over the last two years. Many more have moved out of the area or even the state due to how unaffordable and inaccessible housing is in the SF bay area. While I am happy where I live, I don’t have any local lady friends at all. My nearest and dearest moved away a few years ago. 


And some have asked about my love life and I’m here to tell you that love is not what I’m interested in at the moment at all. I’m still in mourning, it hits me like a semi truck out of nowhere and I’m a wreck all over again. I’m not able to nor wanting to give love to anyone in a romantic sort of way. I’m not even sure I can accept it from others at this point. That isn’t to say I’m not dating, I definitely am, but with a very different end goal in sight. It certainly takes the pressure off! Ha-ha! And it’s given me some practice on socializing again after soooooo very long of none at all. I’m in a transitional period and doing my best to be patient with that and myself.


If you’ve read this blog for any amount of time I’m certain you know that I am not one for New Year’s resolutions. I don’t even think I have it in me to do any sort of goal setting at the moment. I have this big project for work using all of my wits and creativity and I’m glad for it, it’s my favorite, but it is an immense amount of pressure on a very tight timeline. I mostly come home exhausted and depleted. I no longer have my lil’ puggo to keep me warm or company. That is still the hardest fucking thing! Just coming home and every single time I walk in the door and it’s like, “Oh. It’s just me now.” It’s still devastating.


I have a lot of hope for the near future though! I have my dark and broody days for sure, and I’ll be the first to call myself a grinch, but I am once again excited about seeing people! I know, I’m surprised too! Ha-ha! Mostly my besties and other locals that I haven’t been able to see during the worst of the pandemic. I’m not yet ready for dance clubs or comedy shows, though I miss them. My besties got me a new couch for my birthday, they just brought it over this past weekend and I am in love! It’s emerald green velvet, mid century style, but with a modern twist of folding flat so as to become a futon of sorts. I may now have too much furniture in my living room, but now I can have four friends over at once without having to grab kitchen chairs! Ha!


Lastly, and honestly, I have really been feeling myself. And how often can anyone say that?! Like in a deep down, damn I’m not just a badass but a whole stunning and gorgeous human too, kind of way! I wish I could share this feeling and give it to others. It is powerful! It is freeing! And it is all mine. No one can take it! I know I’m not indestructible, but truly knowing yourself and your own capabilities does give you a sense of not giving a fuck combined with a whole lot of gratitude, always. Yes I am still struggling with my grief but that’s not going away any time soon and life isn’t going to live itself in a fulfilling way without some efforts on my part. So I’m here for it! 


Cheers to you, cheers to me, cheers to this blog and to lucky thirteen!

***

I’m here for realness and sincerity, honesty and vulnerability, I’m here for the good and juicy bits of life that shine for me when I know I’m heading in the right direction.

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,
<3
S

Check out the Fat AF podcast on your favorite podcast app for all things fat sex with me and my BFF, Michaela! (We only recorded a few episodes but they were good!)

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall currently donations will be given directly to Black women in need through my network.

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (updated frequently and not just about fat stuff): 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’m also on Space Hey: 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

The Beginning and The End

November12

I’m okay. Friends keep checking on me, but I really am okay. I’m mostly just processing and trying to figure some shit out, ya know? Losing my babyman so suddenly really flipped my world upside down. Next thing you know I’m going on a couple of dates with someone, on the second they asked to be exclusive, I was into it. It felt nice to be noticed and admired. It was fantastic to meet someone who wanted to participate in lengthy conversation without aim. The third date was my birthday and I was a bit nervous. Seems a tall order to plan an entire day for someone who doesn’t know you very well and on their birthday?! Yikes! I don’t think I would have been so bold. In the end, it was a truly fantastic day! A whirlwind, I dare say!


They picked me up at 11 am and we headed to breakfast at a cute little cafe. Then to a private karaoke room in this games/activities type place where they gave me a card that exclaimed their love followed by serenading me with an original birthday song just for me! We both sang songs but it was obvious they were trying to impress while I was simply trying to go with the flow and enjoy the ride. Next we played a couple rounds of billiards, but it was too hot to comfortably play while wearing face masks. So we ditched and while he offered to take me axe throwing, I was too worried about injuring myself and so mini golf was the compromise. It was a blast, too! There was hardly anyone there so we got to take our time and just be silly about the whole thing. Then we had Thai food at this little hole in the wall nearby, it was delicious! 


When the dessert shop they had planned on taking me to was closed early, it seemed their plans had sort of fizzled out. I very much did not want the day to end so I invited them back to my place. We had been flirting all day and they were so thoughtful and sweet and I wanted to be more intimate with them. So back to my place we went, I had panic-cleaned the night before so I wasn’t too stressed about my usual mess. We sat and talked and laughed and made out and it was all super fun. When I asked if they wanted to move to the bedroom, their enthusiasm was exactly what was called for. Ha-ha! And it was all super great, like truly, a wonderful time was had by all. 


Things got a little weird shortly after that though. Like, they never expressly asked or were invited to spend the night. They already had a bag packed in their car for the occasion. I poked fun, but I was a little put off by it. They said they didn’t have work the next day but their schedule changed a lot so I didn’t think much of it. Even with all of the activities and excitement of the day, I couldn’t sleep! I hadn’t had someone in my bed at all, let alone to spend the night, in years! I just rolled with it. The next day we made out tons more and had a lot more sex. Super fun! Then I took them to my favorite hidden gem in the bay area, near where I grew up, The Pulgas Water Temple. It was a gorgeous day as we ate our sandwiches in the shade of an old tree. A couple was getting their wedding photos taken there with their dogs, it was super cute. We headed back to my place, without a plan. And next thing you know, that third date lasted three days.


It’s nuts! We kept saying so, too, the entire time. But emotions were high, certainly getting laid helped with that and it was all such a lovely distraction. But after three days and two nights with no sleep, this introvert needed some alone time. They were super cool about it, but then got too stoned to leave at a reasonable hour, which left me very cranky. They came back the next morning and I was starting to feel that while I liked this person a lot, they probably weren’t as good a match for me as I originally thought. I felt more critical of them suddenly and I didn’t like that feeling within myself at all. I told them we couldn’t do back to back overnights anymore, I needed to sleep and my restless leg syndrome was out of control as a result. They said they understood, wanted to respect my boundaries, all seemed well. 


There were no more plans or adventures. It was just us sitting on my couch in my apartment talking or watching netflix, random makeouts, and seemingly rote sex after that. The excitement of the partnership had passed for me. They were still very much feeling it but the next day I had it and exclaimed, “No more over nights ever!” I needed sleep, I needed alone time, I needed to do my fucking nails and couldn’t when they were there. Within a week’s time I went from not being able to keep my hands off of them to not even wanting to see them. It was odd. But then, they took the entire week off of work without even mentioning it to me once.


The next week we went back to work and reality hit me kind of hard. Things at work have actually been really great so that wasn’t the issue at all. I am still very much grieving and hard! That week was a nice distraction, but I wasn’t feeling anything but sadness. I found being home alone each night to be a greater joy and comfort than I could have expected. When they came over the following Saturday, I was all dolled up and looking drop dead sexy! I was feeling myself and was hoping they would be feeling me too. Ha! Only when we kissed hello I felt absolutely nothing. They didn’t comment on my outfit or how hot or gorgeous I looked…at all! I didn’t think about that part until the next day and then it was just like whatever. They brought over food they had cooked at home but I didn’t have as much of an appetite as they did. When we kissed for a bit they could tell something was different with me and I did my best to explain but I think they took it more as I wasn’t in the mood for sex and not that I was actually not feeling the partnership any longer. 


As this past week has progressed, they reached out but I explained that my period was wrecking me and I was simply in too much pain and exhausted to do anything. We haven’t talked or text at all in more than a couple of days now. I feel a little bad about it, but I haven’t misled them in any way. I caught up with a couple of friends this week and had some realizations. First, the people who know you best actually do know what is good for you and serving you and what is not. My nearest and dearest were like, “They are not the one!” and “This sounds very familiar, remember when…” and suddenly it hit me. This was all a repeated pattern that I had literally taken a year plus off dating to recover and reset and get away from. 

The more I chatted with my beloveds, the more I realized how I get caught up in other people’s feelings. How easy it is to get swept up when someone is doing and saying “all the right things at exactly the right time (but they mean nothing to you and you don’t know why”) and showering you with affection when you’ve been starved for any attention and affection for so long. UGH! I couldn’t see this for myself until my friends were like, “Uhh…this isn’t right.” I needed that reality check and I am so grateful to have them in my life. I know it’s not easy to tell someone that they are not on their right path. It helped me realize that I need to end this. I cannot properly grieve, heal, and grow if I am distracted and not even fully invested in a situationship. I cannot fully participate in a relationship in the way that I would normally want or need to when I am still so deep in my grief. I am not my usual fantastic self and thus have no business trying to be in a relationship with anyone for awhile. 


Ending things is not easy nor fun to do. I always want to be kind. The other party doesn’t always allow you to be kind in those moments though. I think they will understand, but another pattern I worry about repeating is them bargaining for a compromise that will serve neither of us in the end and only postpone the inevitable severance. No, I can’t do that again. So, they are coming over tomorrow morning and I will have this talk with them. They have been so compassionate and respectful and I think they will absolutely understand, but I know that they are a sensitive and gentle soul and this will be hard to hear for them. I anguish over these things, even though I know it’s the right thing to do.


I definitely need to take a big ole step back and rethink what it is I want out of dating before I dip my toe back into those icy waters again. I’m not even sure that I want to be monogamous anymore. I’m not sure that a traditional style partnership is for me. I may need to sleep alone forever and that is fine. I need my sleep, dammit! But having someone in my personal space, my fortress of solitude if you will, was just too much too soon and while I don’t have any regrets, it’s just not a good fit for me. 


Have you gotten caught up in something that wasn’t right for you? Have you had to end something that was moving too quickly? Do you get swept up in other people’s feelings? I know I do! I just gotta figure out how to stop! Ha-ha!

***

I’m here for realness and sincerity, honesty and vulnerability, I’m here for the good and juicy bits of life that shine for me when I know I’m heading in the right direction.

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,
<3
S

Check out the Fat AF podcast on your favorite podcast app for all things fat sex with me and my BFF, Michaela! (We only recorded a few episodes but they were good!)

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall currently donations will be given directly to Black women in need through my network.

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (updated frequently and not just about fat stuff): 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’m also on Space Hey: 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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