I worked really hard to be a positive and self accepting and loving person. How did I forget how hard it is to BE that person?! Life events, one right after another, sent me into a whirlwind or a tailspin or whatever and I forgot who I was, what makes me happy or how to feel happy and I wasn’t so sure I would ever shake it. It didn’t seem to ever be getting better. All the bad things and all of the bad thoughts that accompany them. Feeling insignificant in the world and even in the role I played in my own life, it was soul crushing and heart breaking. Physically I went through so much in such a short amount of time that I’m certain I’m still recovering. I am so grateful and beyond lucky to have the few tried and true souls that I do have in my life, they have kept me going when I couldn’t see the point. My boyfriend has remained the most positive person when my darker moments have scared others away. Of this I have been in complete awe of him. But when we met I was that person to him. Life is such a mind-fuck! (When in doubt hyphenate?)

I am once again (again again again) starting anew. It feels very different this time, though I bet I’ve said that every time. Some timing and planning has thus far worked out in my favor in some small but meaningful ways and this has helped me feel a bit less stressed, thank the stars above for that. Stress has been my master these last few months and so the proverbial rug getting pulled out from under me has lifted much of a very heavy stress load provider. To the extent that I’m sort of in shock-mourning, too. Mind-fuck! Ugh! And it’s like I have to keep doing this same pattern over and over and I’m wondering if it’s me and everyone telling me it’s not and I just can’t think straight anymore.

I recently found an old dilapidated box in my garage and hadn’t laid eyes on much of its contents in more than twenty years. It was an emotional roller coaster to say the least, but really good overall. Just last week I went to look for a picture to use as an introduction for a fat group on facebook and found myself staring at a stranger, that stranger was me. But I was doing things and feeling fulfilled and looking at it all now just seems so foreign! That person seems a lifetime away. I couldn’t have done all of that?! It made me sad and tired. I’m proud of my accomplishments, don’t get me wrong, but I no longer feel capable of such things now. I feel so worn out. So much has been taken from me, used up.

I was terrified to go to a local rad fatty’s party but had promised I would go and as hard as it was to actually go that first time, I’m so glad that I did! I had such support, but soon found that I didn’t need it. I really was among good people, friends and community. I attended another party of hers solo and had such a great time. I was worried for nothing! Ha-ha! What else is new, eh?! I have been truly touched, moved and have been fortunate to connect with such amazing people there that I am healing some of the hurt that’s been with me awhile.

I’ve been reconnecting a lot. With music and dance and my femme-ness. With learning how to be me again. With learning all over again that it takes a lot of work and mindfulness to be positive. With my sweet little puggo! Oh he’s the best! He’s my little shadow again, by my side with vigilance and love and oh wait no he’s staring at his automatic feeder (I’ve now dubbed “Pug TV”). Ha-ha! I went from no time to breathe to sleepless nights and hours passing like years. Good things happen in tiny snatches of light, but I celebrate them just the same.

I want to write again, like I used to. I want to use my words, my writing, to share my heart with you all once again. It helped me so much in the past. I hope this begins a new chapter of that, but I’m not yet willing to be hopeful. I would love to hear from you! In comments, in an email, tell me how you’re doing, what’s got you excited, what’s sticking in your craw, what silly thing have you done lately?!?!?! I wanna know! notblueatall@notblueatall.com

I love you all so much, for real!
<3
S

Things have been tough and just when I thought they can’t, they get tougher! Such is life, eh? At least mine. The last few months have been, in a word, brutal. I am still the director of happiness at a local start up and still miserable there. On March fourth I sprained my spine at work. Ever since things have been worse than ever until this past Friday when I had my “annual review” (I’ve only worked there since Dec. 1, 2014) and it was terrible. It was dictated to me and I was handed several pieces of paper with the contents of what was being said to me, only my ears couldn’t believe it and all I could manage was a single word whenever prompted, “Okay.” like some sort of deer-in-the-headlights robot. I was given a 30 day performance improvement plan, shape up or you’re fired, basically. They asked if I had heard of these before, “I’ve written several before” was my reply. When they asked if I wanted to respond or had any questions I mentioned the second item on the “plan” about timeliness, stating that I have in fact been at work at 9 am the last two months as instructed and agreed upon. The response of one manager was, “I have not seen you here once and I won’t be challenged on this.” I said little else the rest the meeting.

A half an hour later I was in my car heading to physical therapy for my spine, but it was my knee that was in screaming pain from too many trips up and down stairs that morning. Sobbing loudly in my car in stop and go traffic on the expressway, leaving a Voxxer message for my dearest friend “V” explaining what had taken place at work when *SLAM* I was rear-ended.  My poor car is crumpled, but I’m okay physically. Emotionally is another story all together. I took pictures and exchanged information and assured the other driver that I wasn’t crying because of the car accident, that I was already very upset. Physical therapy did not go well since I couldn’t stop crying. Ugh! By the time I got home and finally calmed down enough to call the insurance company I could feel the ball of tension and anxiety tightening and yet seemingly expanding inside me at once.

Stress is a killer they say, and I can feel it eating away at me everyday.  The toll this job has taken on me physically and emotionally is beyond anything I could have ever imagined. Quit? Ha-ha! *FallsDownOnTheFloorLaughingHysterically* I WISH!!! If I had a dime saved up, if I had a safety net or a hope of a chance at an opportunity at something else, I would in a heartbeat! But that just isn’t the case. I’m stuck. I’ve been applying to jobs since December (pretty much never stopped, to be honest) and so far nothing. Lots of phone interviews and promises, but all for not. I’m at wit’s end with nothing else in sight!

The reason I haven’t lost my mind entirely is in large part due to my incredible friends and boyfriend. We’ve been through some really tough times and yet they always stick by me, supporting me and cheering me on. But this job? This job makes me feel like I don’t deserve it. This job makes me feel like a turd that’s been scraped off someone better than me’s shoe, onto a dingy curb. That’s me. I know better and I work very hard everyday to believe I am worth more, deserve more and that something good will come, it has to! And I haven’t lost all hope, but it’s fucking hard! I only get to see my boyfriend on weekends and my friends even less and it’s such a struggle to stay positive when your boss scolds you like a child for not knowing something they never even showed you. *ShakesHead*

I fantasize about quitting. Walking out. Or just never showing up again. I dream of running away. But I can’t run away from the damage that this job has caused me. My boyfriend broke up with me at one point because he’d convinced himself, despite my protests and explanations, that it was he and not my job making me miserable. *Sigh* Things were really touch and go for awhile but then it got better. Until I hurt my back. I was finally shaking off the last bits of depression clinging onto me when I was laid up and unable to do much for myself. How my managers have communicated with me since has been eye opening. This performance improvement plan? Yeah, I wasn’t surprised. I’d already convinced myself that they hated me, but the stuff on there? I mean, they are basically accusing me of lying and I cannot stand for that shit! And the whole “I won’t be challenged” thing? I’m pretty sure that’s not legal. I don’t clock in or anything, I’m usually in the kitchen cleaning, organizing or servicing the espresso machine. If they’re in a meeting, well duh, you won’t see me at 9 am!

Friends tell me to consult a worker’s compensation lawyer, but it feels gross. That’s not who I am. I just want out! Like NOW! But I’m stuck until I can find something else, some sort of income. You don’t want to know the things I’ve considered doing to get the hell out of this job and still be able to pay rent. Ugh! This morning, on my way to work, knowing that I’ll be under a microscope for the next month, I had an anxiety attack of sorts. My breathing became shallow and rapid, I didn’t want to cry but didn’t really have a choice and I just wanted to turn around and go home, forever. I kept driving and kept freaking out and then turned into the parking lot and just decided I had to be okay, I had to make it work and get through this day.

I survived it. Tomorrow will be tougher, I already know this. Today both managers were out of the office. Tomorrow that won’t be the case. Nothing I do will ever be enough for them. Getting a simple answer to a simple question today took 7 emails and I still don’t have a definitive one. They push me to ask clarifying questions and then go back and forth so many times it’s infuriating. They stopped referring to me as the director of happiness about the same time I hurt my back. Now they introduce me as the office assistant. Funny that, when am I ever at my desk?! People don’t talk to me except for a select few and even then it’s very small talk. I host our new hire happy hour off-site events and even then I’m alone at the table while everyone else talks. I try! I swear I do, but it doesn’t matter.

My last two jobs were bad, but this is worse. I never thought I’d miss my last one, but boy do I?! I miss interacting with people, helping people, creating, training, shit, I even miss stupid stuff like answering the phone or reception work. I don’t know why they hired me. I don’t know why the fuck they hired a 37 year old, 325 lb woman to do such a physical job. Not that I can’t do it, I’m doing it, but they’ve not been happy with me for a single day so what’s the damned point?! It doesn’t matter what I do. I go above and beyond, bend over backwards and they find a way to pick it apart and make it out like I’m slacking off.  I mean I’m literally busting my hump (sprained my spine, yo!) here and they don’t give two shits. Ever since I hurt my back they (my manager and the hr manager) now cc each other on every email related to me. Even when I emailed the hr manager, asking for confidentiality, when I hurt my back with an update, she sent it to the entire ops team!!! When worker’s comp came to do a safety assessment one of the managers bitched and moaned, “Well I don’t see why we have to do this just because something happened to someone unrelated to my department” two feet away from me.

I’m not looking for pity or sympathy or anything. This is just me getting some shit off my chest. I just can’t believe how things have turned out. This is a successful company that will absolutely become even more so and they’re doing really big and really great things, but that’s all unrelated to me. Yet with the amount of pressure on me you’d think I was the damned CEO! I am little more than kitchen stock girl/cleaner, lunch set-up/clean-up, errand girl and office lackey. I am paid well, the benefits are great, but none of it matters when it’s felt more like a curse than a job. The day I reluctantly accepted the position (always trust and listen to your gut!!!) my great aunt passed away, I didn’t know until a few days later, but I swear it’s been nothing but bad stuff ever since. I’m on my third manager in four months and it’s just worse and worse everyday.

If you wanna do something for me, send some good thoughts out into the universe for me, will ya? Others call it praying. I just hope I can make it through my shift tomorrow.

<3
S

I received and accepted an incredible job offer today!!!

I’m over the moon!

Sending my love to you and yours. <3 I hope you all have a wonderful holiday and weekend!

Image reads: “Do not touch your body with bad intentions. Stroke your soft skin. Rub your belly when it is full. Hug yourself because it feels good.
Pleasure yourself. Do not pinch at the fat on your hips. Do not do violence to yourself. Do not hate the shell you have been given.
It is your home; don’t burn it to the ground.”

It has been awhile since something I’ve come across on the internet has resonated with me beyond a simple head nod. I couldn’t find the original source for the image other than a million posts on Tumblr. But there is one line in particular that reminded me how far I’ve come in my own body acceptance journey.

“Rub your belly when it is full.”

I nodded in agreement when I first read this, but then I remembered how ashamed of my belly I was even after I started my activism in fat acceptance. It’s something I still struggle with, mind you, but oh how much better connected I am to this belly (or bellies) of mine!

I was always afraid to place a hand on my belly, lest someone think I’m pregnant. How many times had I been asked by strangers about an imaginary, impending birth. Ugh! The first couple of times destroyed me. I would rarely touch my belly, even in private. The only time I allowed this physical interaction with my belly and my hand/s was when I was in pain, typically from menstrual cramps. Only then would I sort of soothe and cradle my belly, but only in private.

I hated any sort visible belly outline my clothes would allude to. I was so disconnected from my belly, this obvious and important body part of mine. I was fat, I accepted being fat, but my belly was just UGH! I had grown beyond the grabbing and mentally cutting off my belly, but I didn’t like it or love it. It made pants so hard to find. If they fit over my enormous thighs I then had the struggle of a lifetime getting the zips up!

When I moved out on my own in early 2012 I had to get used to spending a lot of time alone. I fought it every step of the way (no doubt evidenced within this very blog somewhere! Ha-ha!). The more time I spent alone with this fat body, the more I connected with it through dance, through self exploration and pleasure, the more comfortable I became with my belly.

Hanging out with radical fat activists does give you quite a boost! It has the incredible side effect of no longer seeing anything bad about yourself or your body. Good stuff! And so I began dressing more boldly. The colors! The dresses! So many dresses! And then I wore a very body conforming, visible belly outline revealing dress! It was more like a very long and clingy t-shirt but it was comfy as hell and I got so much compliments every time I wore it! The first time I wore it to see my ex-husband, his eyes popped out of his head! The first time I wore it to see my at-the-time-lover, he was speechless and just kept saying, “Wow!” I haven’t worn that dress in nearly two years, but I did end up buying another one in different colors…perhaps it’s time to rock those once again?!

It was when I first started to explore my body with new lovers that I first realized that my belly could be seen as sexy. What a revelation?! And I was shocked at how into my arms folks were, too, but we’re talkin’ bellies today. The first time a lover asked to kiss my belly I was gobsmacked! And now here I am always trying to give some belly love to my favorite fella! Ha-ha! I never knew I’d be into bellies myself, let alone love my own!

From being a timid belly bumper with Marilyn Wann to loving and rubbing on my own belly, it has been quite a wild ride! I think the message got through to me at some point that women aren’t supposed to have bellies at all. I don’t know where that came from (maybe my years of reading Cosmopolitan, blegh!), but it was in there and took a lot of work and a lot of love to get it the hell out!

Literally my first belly-bump ever! International No Diet Day 2011. Photo by Nicole of www.awellroundedventure.com

My friend Brooke Blaize started a facebook group called, “Hunnies with Tummies” where she encourages folks to submit photos (anonymous or not) of their tummies to the page. I love it! It’s such a positive celebration of something we’re supposed to somehow be ashamed of. I know I was. But I love seeing the different shapes and sizes and configurations of bellies! Bellies are awesome! I asked Brooke why she started the group and here’s what she said:

I created “Hunnies with Tummies” because I felt that there’s a lack of representation for women like me. Every ad that DOES have a plus size woman only uses one type: Wide hips, small waist, big boobs, with a flat tummy. I don’t have some of that stuff and a lot of women I know don’t either. I don’t think it’s fair to promote body love without including all types of bodies. I’ve had a round tummy since I was a little kid. Growing up, my mom would make me wear a girdle and reprimand me for not “sucking it in” and would fuss at me because she was tired of people asking her if I was pregnant. I never understood the big deal about my big belly. I also never really gave in to the hype. I was sensitive about people talking shit about my belly but I never thought “Ewww gross. Big bellies.” I just figured people didn’t wanna see it so I’d try to hide it.

I remained a virgin until I was 22 (because I made a conscious decision to wait until I was ready) and when I did finally lose my virginity, my attitude about my body started to change. I still tried to hide my belly but my boyfriend at the time always kissed and rubbed my belly when we’d have sex and it completely amazed me that someone could find something that so many people hated to be a source of pleasure and admiration. Our relationship didn’t last very long but he kinda planted a seed. I met another guy not too long after and we became good friends. We’d talk about the way I dressed sometimes. I wasn’t frumpy, but I wasn’t aware of my potential at the time. He suggested that I stop trying to hide and wear something that showed my figure. I thought he was joking but eventually I tried it and got a good look at myself in a form fitting dress and all bets were off. I didn’t depend solely on his opinion because I’ve always been one to choose for myself but it did help that someone saw me and wanted to see me show off my body even with my big belly. I started looking at myself naked more often and rubbing my belly and reminding myself that if I was gonna live in this body I needed to love it. I always thought other girls with big bellies were equally sexy and fabulous as those with flat tummies. I just learned to embrace it as I got older.

I love hearing other people’s stories about how they came to love and accept themselves or even parts of themselves! How do you feel about your belly? How have you come to love and accept it? What do you still struggle with? Leave a comment or email me a post to be included in the next part of this “Bellies” series: notblueatall@notblueatall.com or submit your belly pics to this blog’s facebook page or Hunnies with Tummies! 🙂

Rad Fatty Love,
<3
S