I want adventure in the great wide somewhere

When I was 12, my Aunt took me with her the summer she moved from Arizona to Illinois for a job. This is the first clear memory I have of traveling anywhere – I have blurry memories of driving from Lake Tahoe to Arizona – but nothing as clear as sitting with her watching states roll by through the window of her Saturn.

It was my first time seeing emerald green as a color that plants and landscapes could have in the humid morning we spent in the Ozarks of Missouri or the Bright red dirt of Oklahoma. It was as if the girl who spent a lot of time buried in books to seek adventures was finally getting to be the star of her own adventure. I attribute this trip as the spark to my wanderlust for adventure and travel – the trip that taught me what it was like to breathe.

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I'm So Sorry That You Have to Have A Body....

I was walking through a crowed casino hall on New Years Eve with my then boyfriend and friend, we were making our way to the area where there was supposed to be a balloon drop at midnight and I was really excited to be spending my first New Years Eve with my boyfriend – some parts because I managed to get him out of the house with me, but mostly because I have always loved New Years Eve. It always represented a change for me where one door closes an another one opens. New Year, new me and all that jazz. Thought I have never been one for New Years Resolutions, I have always liked the magic of something new. As we made our way through the crowed a women made a rude comment about my weight which I ignored because I was used to it, but also because I was on a mission to kiss a very attractive man under a shower of balloons. The comment, however, was very triggering to my friend and she rushed off and out of the casino. Not wanting her to be alone and to figure o...

Combat, I'm Ready for Combat. I Say I Don't Want That But What if I do?

Here is how body image issues get to me: Yesterday my active wear from Lane Bryant arrived after much anticipation. I was so excited that I didn’t waste any time putting on the elastic pants pulling them up over my large hanging stomach and feeling the thick band secure around my waist. Skeptically I walked briskly out of the bathroom and around our downstairs living area. The pants stayed firmly around my waist. I jiggled my body. Nothing. I beamed. I sat down, then got up again. Beamed again. They were staying firmly around my hips and holding the hanging fat of my stomach closer to my body which helped moving around without issue. This was monumental for me purely for the fact that I had always struggled with pants staying up around my waist and struggled even more with finding leggings or any type of pant that would allow me to move my body freely without constant disruption of holding my pants up with my hands. It’s not that I don’t like moving my body or exercising,...

Thanks for making me a fighter...

I have been thinking about what I wrote the other day on an instagram post regarding my hesitation of wearing clingy clothing and how I only made mention of not liking clingy clothing for the “exposure of my bumps and stomach.” As if it was a shame I had felt. Not expressing that my hesitation is not only tied to my changing view of my body and exposing parts I have been told to cover up. But also because publicly posting and existing in tight clothing allows more fodder for fetish and objectifiers. The boldness I truly spoke of was pushing past these people in effort to show that we are allowed to “not cover up” and opening myself up to them more. Its a really hard thing for me to move past because it makes me incredibly angry. My words are easily minced with insecurity and lacking confidence because I am learning to retrain my own fat phobic auto responses in my views of myself and others. They are easily seen as deficient in conviction because fat bodies are not afforded these ...

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