Monday, November 22, 2010

Those Poor TSA Agents!

So I was just now reading about TSA horror stories... Passengers patted down and searched. One man (a bladder cancer survivor) being patted down and having the TSA agent spill his urostomy bag all over him, covering him in urine. And TSA agents ignoring when passengers try to relay medical issues. Not to mention the invasive scanners which, can sometimes be very revealing.

But, folks, let us remember that it's the TSA agents who get the real shitty end of the stick.

Yes, we passengers are stuck for hours and hours in lines, being searched, prodded, stripped, pushed about, patted down, and shoved into tiny airplane seats that we may or may not get to stay in depending on our size and how the airline feels on that particular day.

But while you're going through that remember that those poor TSA agents have to touch your fat.

"Even worse [than patting down non-fatties] is having to try and feel inside the flab rolls of obese passengers, and we seem to get a lot of obese passengers!"

I mean, really... what could be worse than touching a fat person? Nothing, that's what. I would rather be drowned in sewage than touch my own shameful, disgusting body. How dare we fatties fly and put TSA agents and other passengers through seeing, touching, and sitting near us!

Okay, not really. I think this person is, well, an asshole. That's your job, fool. Get over it. You don't want that job? Guess what? I'll gladly take it because I need the damn money. You don't like touching fat people? Don't get a job where you're going to have to be touching people at all. Seriously, it's like a prostitute complaining that he or she has to touch pussies and dicks. If you get a job touching people, don't complain you have to touch people... either shut up or get another job.

Honestly... I get that TSA agents have a hard job. I'm sure they get a lot of people complaining, a lot of people being jerks, and a lot of people wanting to be treated like royalty. It doesn't go that way, obviously. But, you know what? If you want something to complain about, complain about that, not that you have to touch people's bodies (fat or thin) in a job where all you do all fucking day is touch people's bodies.

Get over it.

Big Smiles!
-Lexie Di

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Fat Attack!

So, recently... quite recently, a blog entry was posted about fatties and how gross they are. Yeah. Posted by a Marie Claire magazine writer Maura Kelly. Chances are, if you're already in the FA scene, you've probably only seen the post or the awesome aftermath; but, if not, here it is.

Yeah. Maura Kelly is an idiot. Worse, she thinks it's okay to humiliate and dehumanize fatties simply because they're fat and she (cue the water works) struggled with her body image, including battling anorexia.

You know what? I can't imagine the pain a person with anorexia goes through. I can't imagine the self-hate, not to mention the physical pain that one must go through when starving.

But I do know how it feels to be hated because of my body. I know how it feels to be totally disregarded because I'm fat. Ignored, and worse, harassed, sexually assaulted, threatened, and physically abused. I know what that feels like. And I lived through it for years and still live through it. However, I do not feel that this gives me a right to hate, hate on, and advocate hate against thin people- the people who did horrible things to me.

Know why? Because, goddamnit, I'm smart enough to know that everyone is different! Not every thin person is a fat-hating asshole!

So, Maura Kelly, fat people are offensive to your delicate eyes? So you went through a tough time with your body? Sorry if I'm not incredibly sympathetic, but you're hating on me and that kind of blinds me any of your problems.

Luckily, the fatties have some power behind them- Over 28,000 emails were sent to Marie Claire complaining about the post and that is fucking amazing! Not only that, Marie Claire's Facebook page is being bombarded which is also awesome.

For those of you who support the cause to get rid of body hate for everyone, thank you. Fatties, thank you. Skinnies, thank you. In-Betweenies, thank you.

If you ask me, this is so no one has to go through what I went through, or even what Maura Kelly has gone through. Fight body hate so that everyone can love their body as it is. We deserve that as humans.

Big Smiles!

Update: Here is an AWESOME post at HuffPo by Josh Shahryar. It totally made me feel better after the emotional sparring match I've been having when it comes to this issue. Read it. Love it. Support it!

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

Winning the Lotto.

Did I? I don't know. Will I? Don't know about that either.

What I do know is that my boyfriend is odd. I love him to death, but he's odd.

The other day, Keith asked me if I would hold it against him if he got a couple of gold teeth (where a bridge covers a couple teeth he's missing in the back). I laughed and said no, I wouldn't hold it against him, but gold teeth look kind of funny to me. Then he went on, asking if I would be okay with him getting a little liposuction. Well, this is far more icky to me than gold teeth, but I feel that everyone should be allowed to do what they want with their bodies. I want him to be happy and if he feels that will make him happy, I say go for it. I won't love him any more or less for being fatter or thinner.

After I said I wouldn't have a huge problem with it, he said that even though he knew I was fighting for my rights as a fatty, he would understand if I wanted liposuction too. Well, I can be thin and still fight for fat rights... But I don't want liposuction and I told him so.

It did make me happy that he's been paying attention to my FA agenda. I don't talk about it often but he seems to have the basics and that's really encouraging. I hope it goes well.

Am I worried that the comment is a subtle hint that he wants me to be thinner? Not really. We've talked about fatness and me and my fatness before and he's told me that he doesn't want or need me to change for him in any way and that if I wanted to change in some way, whatever way, he'd support me. I believe him. He may tease me relentlessly about typos and the silly things I do, but he has never said a negative thing about my body. In fact, the most he's said about my fatness has been to say I look like a chubby video game character, teasingly call me "sausage fingers" because of my pudgy hands, and relate my body to lovable, fat things. That's really encouraging. It's a little off putting having someone say that I'm fat but in a way that's not hateful.. It's new. It's wonderful.

Have a fat and happy day! Time for this little fattie to get her beauty sleep.

Big Smiles!

Thursday, October 21, 2010

Quickie: Fat Ass Tunes!

So! Just moments ago, my boyfriend, the wonderful Keith, sent me a song that he thought I'd enjoy. Well, he's usually right and this time he was too.

Introducing, my new feel-good-when-I'm-down-on-my-body song!

Beautiful South singing Perfect 10!

"'Cause we love our love in different sizes.
I love her body especially the lies.
Time takes its toll, but not on the eyes.
Promise me this, take me tonight."

The only objection I have is the "anorexic" comment that is made. Thin women are just as beautiful as fat women. If he doesn't think so, that's okay.. but no need to call people anorexic without knowing them.

Anyway- Love everyone and enjoy!

Big Smiles!

Tuesday, October 5, 2010


I love Disneyland. I love Disneyland so much that I have an annual pass. I have an annual pass so that I can go often. I go so often that I know where everything is, what the busiest rides are, what shows are playing, where they're playing, when they're playing, and how to get my own boat on the "Pirates of the Caribbean" ride. I know the folklore, the ride stories, the urban legends, the characters, the songs, and the ghosts.

And, though I love Disneyland, I do have issues with it on the fat front.

1.) Dude, lap bars. Need I say more? Now, hardly anyone goes to Disneyland alone and hardly anyone goes on rides alone. It's lame. I've done it. Now, lap bars fit me just fine, and so do the belts. The problem comes when you're riding with a passenger that is somewhat smaller than you and the ride has one of those lap bars that goes across the both of you. For some fatties, this isn't a problem, for some it is. It is for me because, even though the friend I go with isn't thin, her weight is in her boobs, mine is in my stomach- coincidentally right where the lap bar goes. So when I get on a ride that contains a lap bar that (unlike the Haunted Mansion lap bars) you pull down, I suck in my gut as much as possible to make sure that my friend isn't totally insecure in the ride. This doesn't always work and usually leads to me being slightly uncomfortable and kind of embarrassed.

Luckily, most rides today have individual lap bars built in to ride seats, even the seats that hold two people. I think that is totally awesome and really takes the pressure and embarrassment off of me. Some rides (I'm looking at you Mr. Toad's Wild Ride), however, do not. Yeah, that kind of sucks... But, on the upside, the ride doesn't really go fast enough to throw anyone out if the lap bar isn't all the way down.

On the upside, like I said, most of the rides that really go fast have individual lap bars or individual belts. I'm really impressed with the length of the Indiana Jones belts- those fuckers are long enough to get around my substantial tummy and they have length to spare. Awesome. I believe Space Mountain also sports individual lap bars. Good call- that ride is fast!

2.) Merchandise. As I've explained (at length), I love Disneyland. I love most things Disney, in fact (excluding newer live-action shows and movies). I love Disney to the point where I buy their over-priced (though, usually, high quality) junk! I would even buy their over-priced clothing. I have talked to several Disneyland cast members about this and most seem to agree that many fatties would like to buy and wear clothes from Disney. Luckily some things go up to a size 3x, which will fit me just fine usually. However, the thing that bothers me most about Disney merch? The fact that only some things come in bigger sizes. The really cool, artsy princess shirts that I love? They tend to go up to a large or an extra large, but that's it. The more generic, not-so-fashionable clothing items? They're the ones that sometimes, if you're lucky, hit a 3x.

What's with the selectivity? If you're going to go up to 3x at all, Disney, do it for all of your clothing, not just the stuff aimed at older people. I want a Captain Eo shirt, damn it, and I'm willing to pay for it if you're willing to produce my size!

One of the stores, one of the hipper stores, at Downtown Disney (the strip of shops, stands, and restaurants just outside of the Disney park in California) only has shirts that go up to a 1x. That makes me feel bad. That makes me feel like I'm too fat to be in that store. Disney not handling my sizes in clothing styles that more fashionable makes me feel like Disney doesn't want me, a fatty, in their stores or wearing their clothes. Now, that's ridiculous- of course Disney wants my money, they just, apparently don't want my round and rolly frame in their clothing. I dunno.

I shot Disney an email about the possibility of getting some bigger sizes in stock and was answered quite quickly with a reply stating that the idea had been tossed around for some years now but had not been put into play because they figured the demand was not high enough. A Disneyland cast member also told me that the company was thinking about going up, possibly, to a size 6x (of course, this is just what I've heard). I think that would be fucking awesome. She said that she sees, daily, how high the demand for larger sizes is, but she also said that the company didn't think the demand was high enough. Okay. Well, Disney, let me tell you- there is a demand. Fat people come to your park just as often as thin people do. Fat people love your company and your clothing, and your over-priced merchandise just as much as thin people do. You know how you had to fix up It's a Small World recently to be more accommodating to larger passengers? Well, that alone should tell you that fatties are there and when you don't have the sizes they need, they're not going to spend the money in your gift shops. Sorry. Putting larger sizes in stores (and making sure all stiles have the largest size) is a win for you when it comes to profit, and it's a win for fatties who get to feel more included, catered to, and they'll end up liking your company all the more for it. I know I will.

The upside is that Disney does go up to a 3x, which, in this fat-hating world, is pretty cool. It sucks butt when you notice that only certain things go up to that size, and that the more fashionable stuff is only for the thinner people... That, honestly, really makes me feel like shit.

I guess I should end this on a high note. Disney hires fatties. That is pretty cool. A lot of the Disneyland cast members are large and in charge and I really appreciate that. I also heard that there are no physical standards for who can try out to play characters in the parks. That's just what I've heard. That doesn't mean that a fatty will be hired to play Tiana or Cinderella (or any other princess, though, I'm praying that someday, Disney will step up and give us a fuller-figured, maybe even a little bit chunky princess). But being able to audition no matter if you look like a character or not is pretty cool. Of course this is just a rumor I heard... But it's a rumor I'd like to believe- it helps keep the magic of Disneyland alive for me.

Big Smiles!
-Lexie Di.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Uhm... DUH!

Tonight, as I signed into my Windows Live account, the little "Today" window popped up and the headline was a link to this article about how fat kids are discriminated against by everyone, even, sometimes, their parents. ((Note: I didn't read many of the comments and I wouldn't really suggest reading them either, though a few were positive. Sanity Points needed in order to view.))

Well, the title of my post today kind of sums up my thoughts. "Duh." Yeah. Of course fat kids are discriminated against. You, dear, sweet media, help in the persecution and stereotyping of fatties. Thank you for being part of the problem and then going "O my god! I can't believe these people are discriminated against!"

The big deal in the article is the idea that fat kids are discriminated against by their parents. This is an ugly thought. I've been fat my whole life and am lucky enough to have a very loving family as well as a family in which all members share my basic body type. Nonetheless, I still felt pressure from my parents to lose weight. I still felt that my body was my fault. I still went on diet after diet with my mom and when one would fail and we'd start another one the same conversation echoed between us:

Mom: So what do you think about this program?

Me: I like it.

Mom: Yeah. Think this is the one?

Me: Yeah, I really do.

Mom: I think you're old enough to really put effort into it this time. I don't think you were ready to lose weight before.

Me: Yeah. This one will make me lose weight.

Every. Single. Time. And guess what? Nothing worked. Finally I stopped and decided to try something really different: Loving myself. And that's been the best thing I've ever done. Unfortunately, though my mom is proud of me for loving my body and being comfortable in my skin, she can not or refuses to do the same, and that's really disheartening. I love my mother. My mommy is the most- THE MOST- beautiful woman I know. Yes, it's cliché, but there are no other words for how I see my mother. She has taught me so much, made me so strong, been a friend when I needed one but never stopped being a mother, but she doesn't see herself as beautiful as I do, and that's heartbreaking to me.

Anyway, enough with my sentimental rambling, back to the article... I'm sure many, many children are discriminated against by their parents because of their weight, and if not their parents, other members of their family. That is extremely fucked up to the umpteenth degree. When will the hate stop and the love start? When?

Just so you know: I love you!

Big smiles!
-Lexie Di.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Bussiness and Fierce Fatties!

Well, I haven't posted in about a month. That sucks. Bad Lexie! Bad! But, in my own defense, I've been busy. School's started and I'm just now settled into that routine.

So! What's happening with me?

Well, yesterday, my mom, dad and I cleaned out the garage and got it ready to do some exercising. We have quite a bit of exercise equipment: One of those weight machines, an elliptical, two stationary bikes, a bench press, free weights, a punching bag and a ton of workout tapes. We could start our own gym...

So, anyway, tonight we workout for about an hour and we're going to be doing that every night. Thank... god... I'm so tired of not moving any more than walking around school (which, honestly, is a substantial walk).

Planning a trip to Disneyland/California Adventure on Thursday with a friend and that will certainly wear me (the fuck) out.

So yeah, that's about it. I plan on posting more... It might be slow because of school, but more is on the way. Yup... Uh-huh...

O yeah...

And I'm on the Fierce, Freethinking Fatties team! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! *cough cough- gasp* HA!

So yeah. Come check out my posts... and everyone's posts (as everyone there is a much better blogger than I am.) Honestly, I'm really honored to be joining... scared, humbled, and honored.

Thanks everyone.

Big Smiles!

Thursday, August 19, 2010

What My Mama Said.

Just about a week ago, my family and I went on vacation. I love vacations. We have an RV and a little trailer and some land out in the valley (where it's hot) and we enjoy going there and doing some pseudo-camping and taking in movies and junk food.

A day before we were set to take off, we packed. My mom told me to grab my bathing suit as we were planning on finding a camp ground with a pool or lake to swim in or go to a hotel for a night. I love to swim, but I still grimaced. I haven't been swimming in over 2 years and I've never gotten the chance to wear my bathing suit (which was purchased over two years ago). It's a tankini. I love it. It's adorable. But I had to try it on again. So I wiggled out of my clothes and wiggled into the neon-splattered top and short skirt and hiked it up as far over my tummy as I could. When I let it go, the slick fabric slid up over my tummy. Ugh. It wouldn't stay in place. I felt horrible. Awkward. Ugly. I marched out and showed it to my mother.

Now, my mother has always been aware that I'm fat. Her worrying about it started in (or possibly before) kindergarten when mud was thrown at me because of my larger size. All through elementary school she worked with me, joining me in diet after diet, experimental pill after experimental pill. She wanted to save me the tears and the pain that I went through daily.

I still get harassed. It still hurts. I still talk to my mom about it, but she knows that she can't suggest a weight loss plan because I'll reject it immediately. My mom has told me I'm beautiful. She tells me a lot. She tells me I'm cute and pretty and adorable. But when specifically talking about my body or her body, she's always been a there's-always-room-for-improvement type of person. She's always been a dieter... More than a dieter. She took pill after pill after my brother and I were born. She even resorted to the use of illegal drugs to help get and keep her thin and which got her addicted. My father too, though he wasn't trying to be thin. And it's a habit that nearly tore the family apart.

So, when I shuffled out to show my mother the bathing suit, I knew what was coming.
"This part," I said, motioning to my tummy-roll, "it doesn't look good. I don't look good."

She looked me up and down and smiled the smile she gives me when she's happy with me, when she thinks I'm beautiful, and she said "Lexie. You're perfect. That tummy is fine. You look great. Your shape is beautiful."

I couldn't keep myself from crying. My mother is one person who can make or break me in an instant, and she made me that day. And, I know it sounds so over-used, so childish. But you may think I'm not pretty... But my mommie says I'm perfect.

Big Smiles!

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

Will There Be Fat-Bashing?

Why yes! There will be fat-bashing!

That's pretty much what my health professor told me.

After the first class, I waited for the room to clear and I asked simply "Will there be a lot of fat-bashing in this class?"

"Not until the section on weight management." Great. A whole section for fat-bashing!

So we spoke. And I told him that I would argue with him and asked him not to throw me out of class.

To be honest, I'm worried. Really worried. I'm questioning whether or not to even go to those classes, for my own sanity. But, at the same time, I want to be there to fight the fat-hate propaganda.

He made a fat joke once during the first class (it's only an hour class) and mentioned it a total of 3 times.

Oh, I'm in to be hated in this class.


Big Smiles!

Monday, August 2, 2010

My Thoughts on "Fat" and "Obese."

Apparently, in the UK, doctors are going to be calling their larger patients fat instead of obese. When my boyfriend (who lives in the UK) told me about this, I pretty much just rolled my eyes. To me, the word "fat" isn't a bad word. I use it freely and usually don't touch the word "obese."

But my real question is, what do they think that will do? Honestly. What?

My idea of what they think will happen with the change:

Doctor: Ma'am, you're... fat.

Fatty: *gasp* I... I'm what? No, doctor... NO! Tell me it isn't so! I... I never noticed. I... *looks down at her body* AAAAAGH! I am! *sobbing* Please doctor... tell me how to fix it!

What would happen if it were me:

Doctor: Lexie, you're... fat.

Me: *smiles sarcastically* And what test did you perform to come to that surprising conclusion, doctor? You must have been at the head of your class with insight like that. Genius. Really.

O yes, I could easily be that snarky to a doctor.

I want people... whomever comes across this blog, to remember that doctors work for you. You employ them. You pay them. Don't get pushed around. Don't get pressured into things you don't want to do. They are doctors, yes. One would hope that they have the best in mind for you. But they're human. Some doctors are jerks and many are biased. Trust yourself more than anyone and don't take the hate and venom from anyone, no matter what his or her title is.

Big Smiles!

Thursday, July 29, 2010

O, Fatty Day! ... Week.

Today, dear friends, was a fatty day! Actually a fatty couple-of-days. But anyway! I did many things with my fat body and saw other fat bodies that were wonderful, beautiful, and out in the warm air!

First, my family's refrigertator (I say it that way so I spell it that way) pooped out on us. Off to the scratch & dent place we go to find a new one at a bargain price! It's awesome. Huge. But awesome. As my father was loading it onto our truck I was told to hold this strap. Why? I don't know. Maybe it was go make me feel useful. I'm kind of too short to do many big, refrigertator moving type things. So I diligently held onto my little red strap, standing next to the bed of the truck, the fridge towering above me. My father, want to be sure of how secure the machine was, took it in both of his strong, laborer's hands and used his body weight to push and pull it back and forth as I stood there in it's shadow.

There's something you have to know about me. I joke about fatness. I don't make fat jokes, I make jokes on people's stereotype of fat and fat people. I say things the stereotypical fat-hating bigot would say and I make it a joke.

As I stared up at the black, metal mass quaking above me, I murmured, just loud enough for my mother and the store employee to hear, "What a way for a fatty to die. Crushed by a fridge." This caused my mother to laugh, and the fellow helping my father load the refrigertator onto the truck smile awkwardly. It's funny when people are less comfortable with my body than I am.

After that, while driving home with the hulking machine strapped and cardboarded to the truck, I saw someone. Someone on a bike. The only person on a self-propelled vehicle in a sea of motorized machines. A fat body on a lovely bike and I wanted nothing more than to take a picture and shove it in haters' faces and go "HA! See that?! SEE THAT?!"

Today, I did even more. Got my hair cut for one. Yay! And got myself some gummy worms. Yum!

And as I sat at a red light, I saw a pair of boys on skateboards- one thin, one fat. Awesome!

I watched the fatty on the bike and I was proud to be a fatty. One fatty of many fatties in the world. One fatty of a growing number of fatties who are proud to be who they are. Who climb onto their bikes, skateboards, into their roller blades and walking shoes or into their wheelchairs or scooters and say "This is me! I'm a fatty and I'm just as good and worthy as anyone!"

And lastly, while at IHOP with my friend, Rocky, eating pancakes, I noticed a woman who was larger than I. I weigh 300 pounds and it's rare for me to see anyone larger than I am or who I think is larger than I am. I saw her and smiled at her, genuinely happy to see her out. Living life at whatever size she was, haters be damned. But I had to think... I wondered was she nervous? Did she fear the people around her? Did she fear the waiter? Did she fear me? The other fat girl on the other side of the restaurant eating two cheesecake pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream? In her mind could I just as easily spit bile at her for her size as any thin person?

Or was it the opposite? Was she uncaring what others thought? Did she plan on eating her meal and enjoying it and fuck the rest who thought her wrong? Even me, if I thought her wrong. I didn't think her wrong. I don't think her wrong or bad. But, in that brief moment, I knew there were kindred thoughts, even if she didn't realize it. Whether nervous or apathetic towards haters, they were feelings I had had at one point and will have in the future. She was me and I was she in that moment, connected by common body shapes, common emotions, common struggles perhaps.

We are all in this together. We all know the pain of being looked at and judged. Fat or thin, we know what it's like. Next time you look at someone, I implore you, do not judge him or her. Next time you look at someone imagine what they're feeling right in that moment. Even if you couldn't be more physically different, find something that connects you to that person. What makes you unspoken partners in the struggles of life?

Other than that, post what you have done with your body recently or what you have seen other fatties do with theirs?

Big Smiles!

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Body Hate is the Expectation.

My family and I have been working for a few weeks preparing for a garage/yard/rummage sale. Today was our second day hawking our stuff for pennies on the dollar.

A lady, with a friend, was going through a Richard Simmons weight loss kit and, laughing, asked how old it was. I said, quite seriously, "I was using it in elementary school."

And I had used it in elementary school. I would pluck the plastic piece which held a card covered in little food symbols like a chicken leg for meat, and a piece of broccoli for veggies, and I would bring it to lunch, holding it with the little lunch card needed to get food from the cafeteria. I would get my food and sit down to eat. And as I ate, I would slide the little windows closed one by one according to what I ate. I did that every day.

The lady looking at it just laughed.

And that shocked me.

I was in elementary school! That was in the late 90's! Fat hate wasn't as bad as it is now, and even at 7, 8, 9, 10 years old, I was hating my body and putting myself through torture. And she just laughed- understanding, knowing, expecting. It wasn't weird to her. It wasn't odd or out of the ordinary. Young girls were and are supposed to hate their bodies. Young girls are supposed to struggle to change what they can not. That's how it's supposed to be.

It needs to change.

Big Smiles!

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Bad Days.

Sometimes, it's just really fucking hard to love yourself. I'm going through one of those times right now. The tears haven't even dried in my eyes. Right now. Today is the last day of a little vacation my mom and I got while my dad and brother were away with some family friends. Today, we were supposed to go shopping.

For the last 3 years I've been pretty dependent on girdles to feel comfortable in clothes; I am desperately trying to stop that now. So, I decided I wasn't going to wear a girdle today to shop and therefore only buy clothes that didn't need a girdle to be worn. Most of my clothes need a girdle as it is.

There are a few things about my body that make it hard to buy clothes. 1.) Most obviously, I'm fat. 2.) I have rather short legs so most "average" pants are far too long on me. 3.) I have small breasts for my body size. 4.) I have a large roll right above where the waist of my pants sits. A roll that sticks out a bit more than my breasts and continues around to my sides. 5.) I have a long torso and broad back.

It may be hard to find fashionable clothes just as a fat woman who is proportionate, but it's extremely difficult to find clothes as a fat woman who is disproportionate like me. I need clothes that are smaller up top, form fitting, but not tight on my stomach and long.

So, while getting dressed today, I decided to do the stupid thing and try on old pants that I had in my closet. Of course they came close to fitting but didn't quite make it. Unfortunately, it's hard not to take a hit to your ego when that happens. And when that happens, I feel exceptionally jiggly when it comes to that roll that sticks out past my boobs. Add to all that, the fact that I need to wear a girdle to feel comfortable in most of my tops... That means Lexie becomes a sweet, little un-self-loving wreck when all of this and the pressure to hate myself gets to me.

The person I turn to when I feel like this is my mother. My mother is probably not the best person to turn to as when she was young she went to "diet doctors" and resorted to pills, starving and even illegal drugs to get and stay thin. Even with my Fat Acceptance stance, she still doesn't fully agree and, when I'm weak, tries to get me to go on a diet or some other thing. Don't get me wrong, I love my mother and her slight pressure to get me on another diet isn't because she doesn't love me but because she thinks it'll make me feel better to "do something about it." She often tells co-workers about my self-acceptance and how much happier I am over-all and how proud of me she is to fight back when the whole world is trying to beat me into submission. My mother loves me and that's all that matters, and I suppose that's why I go to her when I need support, even if I don't quite get the support I want.

So, anyway, does everyone have these days? I'm sure they do. But when you have one it feels like you're the only failure in the world. After my depression settled and faded (I'm lucky enough to not get and stay depressed for long) I realized that, fuck, I have nothing to be sad about! I have a body and it works. I'm lucky that I can walk and run and jump and see and hear and speak and feel. I have a boyfriend who loves and cares for me and would do anything to make sure I'm happy. I have a family that loves and supports me in everything I do. I have the money to do what I need to and get what I want. I'm fat and I'm smart and I'm beautiful to the people who matter to me and, most importantly, I'm beautiful to me. What do I have to be whining about?

Yeah, so I had a bad day. You'll have them too. But I want you to know that your life doesn't suck. You're beautiful. You're wonderful. You're fat, or you're not, but you're you and that's all you're required to be in this world. So buck up and be it.

Big Smiles!

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

Is it True?

Is It True? is the name of a show on the Discovery Channel, hosted by Chuck Nice- that comedian whose face you recognize but who's name you never remember. The show centers around debunking or confirming videos and pictures on the internet, or, that's the premise as far as I've seen.

One episode dealt with world records for wearing shirts. So they filmed as a former record holder went for the gold again (he didn't make it). But, supposedly inspired by the shirt wearing videos, Mr. Nice and his scientist buddy decided to do something similar: to achieve the world record for the highest number of boxer shorts worn at one time. So they started piling them onto Mr. Nice with his narration. Up until this point, I was okay with the show. It was entertaining but not the most fun or interesting. Just entertaining.

Mr. Nice started commenting on the weight (11 extra pounds) and tightness of the boxers and that the elastic waist bands were making it hard to breathe. Then he said something like "Now I know why extremely overweight people find it hard to move and get out of breath so easily."

Did anyone else facepalm? I did. Having something pushing in on your guts is nothing like being fat. Having something on you is not comparable to being naturally fat. A more appropriate comparison would have been "Now I know why women often fainted when corsets were in fashion." That makes sense! Sense, Discovery Channel! That's all I want!

I want to know what gives a (sans-boxers) 180 pound man the right to say "this is how very overweight people feel." Especially when he's just putting on pair after pair of boxers (he ended up wearing 50-some-odd pairs). How does that even come close to being naturally fat? You put a man in an extraordinary position and then tell him to compare it to a normal way of being? Ridiculous.

The only thing that he might be saying that I may be over-looking is that having the elastic bands of the boxers pressing in to him is comparable to large people having access to ill-fitting clothes or wearing clothes that are too tight. However, I somehow doubt this is the case as he mentioned nothing about what fat people wear.

This is a prime example about how fat people can not, no matter where they go or what they do, escape judgment for being fat. I would expect a comment like that if I were watching a show on health or a show on weight or even a show on bodies! But he's just putting on boxer shorts! It has nothing whatsoever to do with the OMGURGONNADIE obesity epidemic. The discrimination and reminders that we are bad bad bad bad bad fatties and that we're gonna die won't even be contained by sense. It's really a shame.

Big Smiles!

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Today in the Fat World.

Today in the fat world, I commented on a friend's Facebook page about how upsetting it was that she "liked" the fat-hating page "There's a Weight Limit on Leggings & Skinny Jeans" her boyfriend was quick to comment on how proud of her he was. Well, here's the conversation thus far... she's yet to say anything about it.

Edit: More!

For the record, as I explain above, I'm not comparing the horrid mistreatment, discrimination and murder of the Jews to the discrimination of fat people; I'm only expressing an idea that keeping someone from wearing something is much like forcing them to wear something.

Edit: Even more! Plus, a new friend!

Edit: Now, it's getting tiring.. I don't know why this new guy thinks I insulted his little cousin even though I don't even know him or his cousin. He obviously didn't read my whole post and doesn't understand sarcasm. *sigh* Really, I wonder about people.

Edit: The end!

After this, her boyfriend joined in again telling me that I was "owned" and to "shut the fuck up." I said that my original post had nothing to do with them in the first place, and my friend deserved better than to be around people who use sad insults and devalue and discriminate against people who are different or do not appeal to them. I sent a message to my friend to apologize to her that the post went on for so long. She told me that it was okay that it was interesting that we disagreed and that she was deleting the post so her boyfriend and others didn't keep it up. She also asked me not to insult her boyfriend where she could see. I wanted to mention that she obviously didn't warn him about insulting her friends (over and over). But I figure that it's really not worth losing the friendship over, even though it's quite irking.

O well! It's very interesting to see how people act and react when confronted with the idea that harassment and discrimination is wrong when it's so socially acceptable.

Big Smiles!

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

Fat Acceptance and Views on Beauty.

I will start this with little to no introduction. Ready? I hope so.

Yesterday, my boyfrend, Keith, and I spoke for a healthy portion of the day (while I also obsessively played Harvest Moon on my DS). Near the time my mom was scheduled to come home, I let him know that I would be leaving every day around the same time to go for a walk with my mom before dinner.

"Soon be skinny Lexie," he said.

"I don't want to be skinny Lexie," I replied.

Of course, I figured that this would be confusing as he's not really into the whole Fat Acceptance thing except by association (that association being me). He asked why, and here's my response, as I'm quite proud of it.

"I'm just not skinny. There's really no way I could ever be skinny without starving myself. And being thin doesn't make me any more or less beautiful. Society values one more than the other but that doesn't mean one actually is better than the other."

This is about as clear as I can make it. This is (perhaps not the whole, but the majority of) the FA movement to me: I'm fat. I can't not be fat without mental, emotional and physical harm coming to me. Being fat is no worse or better than being thin.

Now, don't get me wrong, if I were just naturally thin, then I'd be fine being thin/skinny Lexie. There's nothing wrong with being thin or skinny, or average, or a little fat, or pretty fat, or really fat. We're all people and deserve to be treated as people.

On another relationship + fat related note, I would like to say (shout, scream, can someone loan me a bullhorn?) thinness is not the end all, be all of attractiveness. People are different. For example... Whenever I see Tim Curry, I get the distinct chill down my spine that tells me "that is an extremely attractive person." Alternately, when I see Jude Law, all I can muster is a shrug of my shoulders an a half-hearted "meh."

Vincent Price? Shiver. Toby Maguire? Meh.

Jack Nicholson? Shiver. Jake Gyllenhaal? Meh.

So, I'm assuming, by now, that people think I'm crazy. "She's fat and thinks it's okay, AND she finds these people un/attractive?!" I'm not crazy. I'm just not you. I don't think you're crazy if you think Toby Maguire is the God of Sex, I just don't agree.

So when someone finds a fat person attractive, do not say that she or he is sick, has a mental illness, or is blind. Don't devalue his or her idea of beauty just because it doesn't match the social idea of beauty or your idea of beauty. Don't say I'm crazy for being attracted to fat men, and I won't tell the world that you spontaneously orgasm every time you watch Spiderman. Deal?

Big Smiles!

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Is That a Fat Joke? & The Invisible Fattie.

I went to the movies today. Saw Iron Man 2, again, because it's fun, and also because my family hadn't seen it. (I went to see it with my friend Rocky on the night it came out.)

So, anyway, we do what we usually do: Buy some candy at the store and stuff it into purses, get one large popcorn to share and two medium drinks to share between the four of us. My brother and I share a soda like always but because he tends to suck down soda like air (and I love my fountain drinks too, don't get me wrong), it's empty about half-way through the movie and I grope my way down the theater steps to get it re-filled.

Now, I don't really mind doing this, especially when I've seen the movie before, so I'm in a good mood (partially because I find Mickey Rourke extremely attractive in this movie). Unfortunately people can unwittingly (or wittingly) kick that mood in the teeth very easily simply by assuming things. I get to the counter, the girl serving folks is about my age- early 20's. The man in front of me gets a Coke and a bag of popcorn and everything goes off without a hitch.

I get to the counter and smile and say "Coke, please" and push the cup towards her, lid already off.

"Diet coke?" she asks, taking the cup and positioning it under the diet Coke dispenser.

Here's where my face goes from expressing vague Russian-accent-gasm joy to "do you have rocks for brains?" My mind chattered away in my head: "Did I say diet Coke? I'm pretty sure I didn't say diet Coke."

"No. Coke," I repeated plainly and she filled up my cup, slid it back to me and I scuttled away with my brain still talking wildly to me. "I wonder if it's because I'm fat."

Now, I understand that the incident could have been a misunderstanding. Perhaps she didn't hear me (though I doubt it as I am not the soft-spoken type), or maybe she was distracted and didn't hear what I said correctly. But, when you live your life with people taking shots at you right and left, you assume that when someone pulls a gun, there'll be a bullet to follow.

So why do people assume things about fatties? Even when you tell them exactly what you want, they question you. As if you're obviously misstating your wants. The fattie must want diet Coke because she's fat and therefore must be on a diet.

Of course it can go the other way. I've asked for a smaller slice of cake and had the server go "Oh, that's too small for you."

Let me state it plainly... I know what I want. Do not question me when I say I want a small piece of cake or regular Coke. I am not stupid. Do not guess at my lifestyle because you have biases. Period.

Another event happened at the movie theater, this time while I was in line for the restroom. I stood behind a young brunette who was, for the record, thin. I was the last in a line that went out the door (I was holding the door open) until a tall blonde lady strode past me and tapped the brunette on the shoulder.

"Are you in line?" the blonde asked. The brunette nodded and the blonde slid herself between me and the brunette.


"I'm in line." I said, quickly and the blonde spun around.

"I'm behind you" she said. Well, of course, she obviously wasn't but she got behind me as the line moved up.

My question is a simple one: Why was I not asked if I was in line? She had to walk past me to get to the girl ahead of me. It seems like an obvious thing- when a person is standing behind a person who is standing behind another person who is standing behind another person, et cetera, that is a line, right? Right. I mean, dressed in shorts, a tunic top, and beaded sandals, I'm clearly not the door-woman so why was I invisible to this lady? Why was I ignored, or not seen, or seen but only as someone who wouldn't argue if she took cuts in line? Did she have to pee that bad?

Anyone else have experiences like these?

Big Smiles!

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

The Boyfriend and This Whole Fat Acceptance Thing.

When I comment on the blogs of other FA writers, it comes to pass that I mention my boyfriend. Since I don’t really want to put anyone out there, we’ll simply call him Boyfriend. Well, that was the plan, but I spoke to him and he decided he wanted to go with my little naming device so he said he wants to be called KeithCi.

Keith and I have a long (very long) distance relationship that started and has blossomed electronically. He is very British and I am very American- you understand the long distance part now, I’m guessing. Anyway, because of the inability to spend much time together physically at the moment, we are very honest with each other (I’m sure we would be despite the electronic hang-ups). One thing that I was and am sure he knows about is my fatness.
It came to pass that one day he requested to see me in a bikini so he could see the whole of my body. I laughed at this request as, to be honest, I’d be far more comfortable naked than in a bikini and because I was not going to spend time searching for a bikini in my size and then spend the money on said bikini when I would never wear it again. Don’t get me wrong, he’d seen me via webcam before this, but never full-on and nearly nude. Anyway, the time to show him came: I cried. He comforted. We talked. All-in-all, it was a wonderful experience because after that moment there was no reason for him to come visit me and say “OH! Well… you’re fat!” And, yes, I have had it happen to me before. Of course, I gave him the last-chance-to-get-out warning and he didn’t take it which means I’m pretty confident right now. He’s seen me, I’ve seen him; I’m very happy, he seems just as enthusiastic.

Another thing he’s well aware of is my commitment to FA. This is where things get garbled between Keith and myself. Keith is very responsible and logical and doesn’t like it when I’m upset. I rather enjoy keeping up on FA issues and even slightly enjoy the anger that comes over me when I feel something’s wrong. (I don’t know why I enjoy it, maybe it’s because I feel that if I’m angry, I’m going to try to change it and the idea of change makes me happy, but that’s a whole ‘nother post.) I talk to him about what’s going on and why I’m upset about certain issues and his response is usually along the lines of “Babe, if it hurts you to know about these things, why do you read them?”

Well, I read them because they’re about me. They’re about the hands holding me, and people I care about, down. Not all posts are about FA, some are about feminism, some are about ablism, some are about racism, but they all have to do with me. And I am the only one who can change it and make it better. I am the big, fat straw that breaks the camel’s back. And I’ve told him that (though, not in so many words). I’ve even mentioned that a war against obesity is a war against me. I’ve asked him if they have the same “war” going on in the UK and he said something to the tune of “Yeah, against the obese but not the fat.” Of course, I explained to him that I’m fat and obese, whether I look like it or not, it doesn’t matter, I am and therefore am also a target of this war. I also let him know that at his height and weight, the body mass index (BMI) labels him as obese even as a vegetarian. He didn’t get that (and, honestly, I don’t either because it’s ridiculous).

We’ve been together for a while now. Not very long, but a while. And I’m not worried about him not understanding the FA thing. At least, not yet. He knows that I’m an activist, he knows what I believe. Most importantly, he supports me in everything I do, whether that’s going out with friends, or studying for those damn math tests. If I say I want a brownie, he doesn’t go “do you really think you need it, Lex?” No. He says “then go get one.” When I question him about plus sized stores in his little town, he assures me I’ll have a fine wardrobe even if I have to buy it all online. He makes me feel good about myself and I am very grateful to have him. He’s a good man. I believe that he’ll support me in FA like he does in everything else.

When we were just getting started as a couple (and I was just becoming aware of his Morrissey addiction), he sent me this. I hope you all enjoy (but beware the comments on that video).

Big Smiles!

Thursday, May 20, 2010

The Muffin Top: STFU About It!

I want to start out by reminding everyone that muffins are delicious. This magic little cupcake/sweetbread love-child has to be one of the most awesome culinary inventions in the world. However, there is one muffin that people tend not to like very much. I’m sure you know what I’m talking about… the muffin top.

The muffin top seems to be one of the most vile fashion sins a person can commit. I have larger friends who talk about how they despise muffin top and how gross it looks. Here’s the issue: some of us can’t help but have a muffin top. I’m rolly. It just so happens that I have a roll right above where the top of my pants are. No matter what size pants I buy, I will have a muffin top. (Unless I hike up my jeans higher over my tummy, but then I have a camel-toe that is far too uncomfortable to deal with. Ow.)

I guess this all falls into the category of “my body is none of your fucking business.” I like this category because it encompasses so much of what I want to say. So! My number one rule for the summer (which is fast approaching over here in California-land) is not “No Muffin Tops,” it is, instead go have fun and feel great about yourself!

O, and muffin tops? STFU about them! If you have one, embrace it! Anything related to a muffin can’t be that bad!

Big Smiles!
-Lexie Di

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

What It's All About.

This is a Fat Acceptance blog. There, I said it. If you don't like it, you'd do well to leave. All my comments are moderated and I do not allow comments hating on me or on my blog. Want to be a troll? Go somewhere else, please and thank you.

For those of you still here, welcome! My name's Lexie Di and I'm going to be writing about all sorts of random things from activism to fatshion. I've been into Fat Acceptance for quite a while and am still learning. That's the most important thing I must mention: I am not perfect. I will make mistakes. I may even make a fool of myself now and again. But, in the long run, I'm here to vent, I'm here to educate, I'm here to spread love.

Speaking of love, please check out the blog of one of my best friends at Rubenesque and Ravishing, she's amazing and I love her to pieces.

Big Smiles!
-Lexie Di