I got some fantastic feedback on that last post “Choose You” and after a lovely and relaxing weekend away at a friend’s home in Northern California, I thought I’d jump right back into this safe space and keep rolling with it.

It’s funny that I of all people would be talking about identities. I often think I don’t have one. I remember a time when I literally had no idea who I was or if I even fit in this world at all. Well, after much self work, I do belong and I know who I am. Well, I should say that I didn’t realize that I know exactly who I am until a friend and I were chatting and I said, “I just feel like such a mess. Everyone thinks I have my shit together, but we both know that ain’t true!” and she immediately put me in my place (love her!) and said, “No, you do have your shit together and you know exactly who you are, that is more than most, my dear.” Sorry, I can’t clone her…yet! 😉

Hearing that from someone who knows me, but maybe not terribly well, was an eye-opener. Maybe I do have my shit together, just in my own sort of messy way! That’s okay, too, right?! Ha-ha! That’s it though, isn’t it? We think we know what things are supposed to be like, but they never really are and so we get all caught up trying to be and do the things that aren’t authentically us! How exhausting! I mean, I never imaged my future self living the life I do now, for better or worse. I’m happy for the most part, just gotta get this job thing taken care of and I’m set, I think.

We must stop comparing ourselves and our lives to anyone or anything else. It’s pointless and ridiculous. Material goods will never make you happy. Having the hottest-latest-greatest will never satisfy your heart. You have to listen to your heart and your body and trust in yourself and your mind. Know that what you need will come. I know this. I’m just far more impatient than I care to (ever) admit.

One thing that has been coming up a lot for me in the newer relationships in my life is how differently I used to think and feel, both about myself and the world. It’s difficult to explain this to someone you barely know. How much do I tell them about my past abuse and depression? Those are just as much a part of me as my fat acceptance is, right? It’s tricky though. I always hesitate before getting into the abuse explanation, I never want the other person to pity me or feel bad themselves. It’s only relevant when it is and so I do my best to keep things in context.

Telling a friend this weekend that when I get undressed now, in front of someone or not, that I feel powerful. Well, hearing those words come out of my own mouth was a revelation! I do feel powerful, it’s true, it’s just that I never expected this to happen. This wasn’t a destination, it just is. That’s awesome! But it’s also difficult to explain or share with someone, who’s so new to fat acceptance, how this came to be. I can’t really put a finger on it myself.

Not that this is something specific everyone should attempt to achieve. Heaven’s, no! I only use it as an example of how fluid and changing our perception of even ourselves can be. And this is a good thing! I know how different an experience mine is, at any size. I don’t know another woman who feels quite like this (outside of my burlesque performing friends).

If I can feel so differently about myself in such a short span of time (quite literally a few months) then I can certainly change how I see others, the world, my own life, too. This is beautiful to me, this fluidity. It gives me so much hope and often some strength, to boot. And I only want for everyone to have their own moment of beautiful thoughts aimed directly at themselves. Because we are all the same and all so very different and connected by more than we can see and feel and I love that.

Your identity is yours. It is your choice along with so many more. When I say “Choose You” I mean it. Choose to do what’s right for you, everyday. Choose what is in your heart and choose it often. Choose to be the best possible version of you, more authentic than ever. And just choose You! <3

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Why does it actually upset me when I hear people refer to themselves as “fluffy” or “curvy” or “plus size” or any other thing besides fat? The other day I was reading something, I think my random  rage deleted the content from my memory, and I became genuinely angry. Okay, I’m not usually so quick tempered, but part of it felt like a slap to my face, ya know? I identify as fat. I love the word fat. I guess you could say that others refusing to use the “f-word” makes me feel somehow that I shouldn’t.

Fuck that! I don’t care what is socially or culturally acceptable. I truly don’t. I mean, I use my manners and common sense all of the time, but fitting in? No thanks. What is the point? What has trying to fit in ever done for me? Nothing but heartache and misery. If I let my fat flag fly a little too brightly or loudly or proudly that is other people’s problem to sort out, not mine. I refuse to feel ashamed about myself or my body ever again.

This body is a gift and a treasure and I shall do with it what I see fit. It longs to be touched and caressed and held and loved and respected and supported. This body no longer demands to be hidden or draped or labeled as anything remotely unacceptable. No, this body is mine. This body is incredible. This body loves and supports me only as much as I love and support it. Perfection is a myth, it does not exist, and we need to get more creative with our vocabulary instead of demonizing such cute and fun little words such as fat.

I love words. Obviously, here I am typing them all the time. Words are sort of my thing, ya know? Ask anyone who’s ever talked to me for five minutes! Ha-ha! So glad I wasn’t names Cathy, for that reason alone. How I choose to identify myself is just that, my choice. If you are in my presence, in my company, in my life at all, then it is very important that you respect my chosen identity. I would never insist that someone isn’t something they identify as. The nerve!

I know it’s not easy, you have to find a way to deprogram yourself somehow and then to continue to resist the popular culture of self-hate and body shaming…for life! It’s a lot of work, but it’s fucking worth it! My body, your body, all of our bodies are worth that work. And the bodies of those who cannot do that work yet? That is why I choose to do it now and for me and to share it here, too.

I could easily give up on all of this awesomeness and just fall back into line with the dieters and self haters and just fall back into a depression and destroy the life I’ve built. But why would I do that? Why would I want to? Why would anyone choose that existence? Well, I lived that life before and have zero interest in revisiting it. The truth is that lots of people choose that life whether they realize it or not. Most people don’t realize that it IS a choice. 

You can turn your life around for the positive. You can actually be happy in the body you have, fat or not. You can, eventually, say the word fat and apply to yourself in a neutral or even positive way. It’s only a descriptor, folks, not an insult. Your body isn’t going to suddenly transform into something else. It won’t simply evaporate, either. If it could, believe me, mine would have ages ago so I wouldn’t have had to endure the abuses I did back then. But this is reality, baby, and that’s okay. You’re okay! We all are.

Choose You! Choose the body you have and choose to love and support it. Your life will improve. Your outlook on the world will improve. You don’t have to stand in the streets with a sign, you can simply sit quietly with these thoughts and choose to love yourself. You are amazing and awesome and anyone who says otherwise is full of shit! End of story! What you say to and about your body, out loud or even just in your head, does make a difference…a Huge difference! Treat your body like the beautiful gift that it is, and this life and this world that we’re living in. If you wouldn’t throw shit at your best friend’s body, you sure as hell better stop doing so to your own! 😉

Choose You!
S
<3

I know the whys and the hows when it comes to my lifelong struggle of being or feeling alone, but I’ve yet to discover the solution to letting those feelings go. I have honestly spent more time alone and in only my own company in the last year than I may have my entire life. I’m okay with this. In fact, sometimes now I prefer it! Huge progress for me, lemme tell ya! 😉

I was born the eldest of three to a mother whom I now believe to have serious mental illness/es. To my knowledge these went entirely undiagnosed and untreated when she was in my life. I couldn’t have known as a child what any of this means, but I always knew she was different in that she wasn’t the doting type, nor the protective type. My mother was neglectful at best. She had moments (and perhaps days) of near normalcy where she’d seemed interested in my/our lives or that she truly loved and cared about me/us. For the most part though, my mother always told me to, “Go outside and play!!!”

And so began a lifelong pattern of constantly seeking fulfillment and happiness outside of the home, outside of myself and always suspicious of having to be left alone for long stretches. I can’t say that I had anxiety back then for certain, but I do recall feeling a bit paranoid from time to time and almost always when I was left alone for what felt like far too long. When my siblings arrived I was hopeful, but not for long as I soon realized this meant that I would be changing diapers on the regular and built-in babysitting was a given.

This all seemed to work out in my younger years. I always had a best friend and later more. By the time I was ten years old I was rarely ever home at all, except to sleep and stuff. I had a pretty rich life at that age, come to think of it. I started my paper route, babysat other people’s kids for money and was always at my friends’ houses or on the phone with them at home. When boys entered the picture? Ha! Forget about it! 😉

It wasn’t really until last year when I moved out on my own that I had to sort of face this shit head on. I was completely unprepared. It was crushing and suffocating at first. A friend insisted I get good at it and pronto…or else?! Ugh! Can I just say here that this is a terrible form of encouragement, but there’s a reason that friendship ended. I made some strides and did my best. Now I feel like a fucking pro! The last few months have proven to me that I can be okay on my own, alone, and only in my own company. Because I’m fucking awesome!

I heard a song this morning that made me recall a time when not having someone to hang out with nearly kept me from doing anything. Specifically, I had moved back in with my family after a financial hardship (don’t buy a Ford, LOL) and it was late on a Saturday night and all of my friends were busy. I was desperately bored and dying to do something. I sat at the dining room table watching MTV (they used to show these things called “music videos” a long time ago, chi’ren) when Orgy’s cover of “Blue Monday” came on and I longed to go to the goth club to dance. I sat there quite sad, watching the video and feeling sorry for myself. When the song ended I felt even more alone there in the dark.

And then I realized that the only thing stopping me was me! And so I changed my top and headed right the fuck out the door to dance the night away…on my own! I had a blast, too! 😉

Oftentimes I think just asking for what you want is the hardest fucking thing. Like, just finally having the guts to speak it, out loud, to another human being…that’s terrifying. And when you have “No.” thrown at you often enough, well, it won’t take long before you simply give up on the asking part. You either choose to not ask for anything or you give up even wanting.

For me, just knowing exactly what I want, crystallizing it in my mind, that can take ages. Finding the courage to ask for whatever it is of another person? Wow! That can take two to three times as long. And I’ve never been a nagging sort of gal. I will ask for something maybe twice ever, after that, the issue is dead.

Perhaps this is entirely due to growing up poor and learning from far too early an age that the things in life one wants are unattainable. Once I was old enough to start earning my own money, through babysitting and a paper route, I felt empowered and independent, in my own small 9-11 year old way. Finally able to make my own purchases without the barrier of asking for any damned thing.

Of course this lead to some serious issues with personal property and space. I would feel the need to hide the things I’d bought so as to keep from either having to share or having judgments thrown at me. And then my mother stole all of my newspaper collections money. Hella fucked up! I was devastated, in trouble with my boss and ass out! And I used to wonder why I felt the need to “stash” things at random. Ha!

Asking for help has been the most difficult lesson in life. Asking for compassion, support…a hug? Why is that so difficult for me? *Sigh* I really don’t know. For the most part I had a loving family as a child, but it fell apart a couple of years before my mom actually left us. Not that she’d ever really been present, but I know she loved us when we were little ones. It seemed to me, even then, that after a certain age she just couldn’t give a fuck any longer. So be it.

As an adult, asking for things has proven challenging in all of my various relationships. In my marriage I couldn’t do it at all. I felt as though asking for anything was asking too much. Wasn’t I lucky enough and satisfied by just having someone?!  Um…NO! Gawd! The shit that would happen in my head, I tell ya, so ridiculous! I know better now, fortunately. But these things we often have to learn the hardest and most hurtful of ways.

As my circle of close friends shifts and changes and evolves, I see it is because it must as I must. What helped me grow and become a better person before simply won’t do now, right? People change and often what they have to offer and need changes, too. I know I have and do and will. What I want from life has changed as well. I now seek more compassionate and empathetic souls to the party-going boisterous group of yesteryear. I still love to cut loose and have fun, but I do not feel compelled to so often anymore. In fact, quite the opposite.

While I still don’t ask more than twice for anything, I am getting better at finding it in me to do the asking now. I still struggle with accepting love and support, especially when I haven’t asked for it but it may be apparent that I need it. Ah, stupid pride. What good does it do me?! Ha! In the end the good ones know what’s up and won’t allow me to self destruct (why is that such a go-to for me?! Ugh!). And when friends need me I do everything in my power to show up, be there and help in any way I possibly can. Sometimes it’s only listening, ya know? Because a lot of us often feel unheard and misunderstood.

So, um…yeah! Ask. Keep asking. Go after what you want. See where it takes you. I know I am. Thanks for coming along for the ride.  😉

<3
S

If you know me and/or would rather not know about my epic awkwardness about dating, then please come back tomorrow for your regularly (sort of) scheduled fat stuffs. *Hugs*

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I know I seem so confident and generally speaking I am. I know who I am and what I want out of life and am working towards having all that I need. I’m a sassy gal, too, and I know that can come across as, well, flirtatious. I do try my best to be friendly, always. Yet, if someone crosses a line with me I make no bones about setting them straight or even kicking a few asses (so far only figuratively).

In my early boy-crazy teens I had no serious problem asking a boy out and not taking it too personally if they rejected my advances. After years in a horrible abusive relationship I lost all of my confidence and my identity, too. I had to start from scratch when I finally escaped and started all over again at age 19. I had zero self esteem and was a horribly depressed girl (I now know that I was suffering from PTSD).

After being in a relationship for fourteen years and suddenly finding myself not only single, but also confident and sort of care-free, I thought I would be able to navigate any situation with ease and grace. Ha-ha! I am fucking hilarious!!! While dating, thus far, has been quite fun, I’ve mostly learned more about myself than anything else.

I’m a grown-ass woman now, can you believe it?! Ha! I sometimes can’t. I actually often forget just how much of an “adult” I am. It’s frustrating and disappointing but occasionally awesome…Like no curfews! 😉 I know that it’s okay for me to make the first move, though I’ve yet to figure out how exactly. I know it’s perfectly acceptable for me to ask a guy out if I feel the desire. I haven’t done that just yet, but I’ve only been on a few dates anyway.

What I never expected was to feel and act so very awkward! Like, 12 year old girl, awkward! Like, geek-girl blushing and looking at my feet sort of awkward! Yikes! This is a very recent development, though. I think it says a lot about whom I was with when it became apparent that I would be playing the role of awkward girl.

You see, I know how to handle an aggressive guy. I can put a douche bag in his place at fifty paces. I can turn down an invitation from a sweetie without hurting his feelings. I can take on quite a lot, actually. But what I haven’t figured out or even expected…A guy I really like being super polite and respectful! What?! I know! It’s ridiculous. Somehow I have no base to work from in this scenario. I feel completely out of my depth on this one.

Luckily, the guy in question is lovely and likes me, too. We’re both so shy around each other and it’s odd because y’all know that is so not like me. Ha! It just shows that there is still so much more to learn about myself, and obviously there’s time to get to know this fella. 😉 It does make me feel a bit young a naive in some ways. Another surprise! Ha-ha!

In the end it’s best, I feel, to have a sense of humor about it all. If you can laugh at your own awkwardness, as I have been doing quite a lot of lately, I think it’ll all be okay. Admitting, in the moment, that you feel awkward? Actually works! Ha-ha! I think it’s good and healthy, actually. It feels a lot like really putting myself out there, but nothing bad has come of it so I shall stay the course.

In some ways I know I “wore the pants” in my last relationship (gawd how I hate that phrase, though). In other ways I know I was very meek about certain things. It’s interesting to be able to look back and see those sides of myself now. I know I have a strong personality and I never want to trample on anyone. What I want is equality, always. But I also know exactly when I want and possibly need to be more submissive in my life. So, how to navigate or express this? Especially with someone new?

I always say the good things happen outside of your comfort zone. I think I may be right on this. It certainly keeps life exciting! I’m enjoying the experience and learning so much. I shall push ahead and carry on and do my best to stay true to my heart. What else can I do? 😉

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Would you like me to talk about a specific TMI Topic? Hit me up! And I’d love to bring back the much beloved Tank Top Tuesday posts…

I am always looking for submissions from anyone who wants to exercise their right to Bare Arms for future Tank Top Tuesday posts! Email your pics here: notblueatall@notblueatall.com,please include the name you’d like in the post, a blog or etsy shop you wanna plug, your thoughts on bare arms or other fatty philosophies. It does not have to be in a tank top, so long as your arms are bare. Have fun with it! And thank you to all who have submitted and continue to do so. These posts make my week! They are so fun and empowering, too! So keep ‘em comin’ and keep baring those arms!