The Evolution of You

Looking back over the course of your life, have you ever wanted to meet your past younger self?  

I don't know about you, but I have been very different people over the course of my life so far.  Whilst my core being has stayed the same in terms of my values, the person that I am has undergone so many changes of the years that I am not sure if I would recognise myself if I was to meet me at a different age.

I think of it as being the same person, but simply a different shade or colour.  We are like bell peppers really (bare with me on this).  It wasn't until recently that I learned that yellow, orange, green and red peppers are not different variety of peppers, but merely at a different stage of ripening.  That feels a lot like me.

Everyone has challenges in their life and everyone has a journey that they go on, no matter how large or small.  My journey has been one of finding confidence, finding self esteem, finding body confidence, finding my voice.  I tried to put descriptive labels on some of my different stages.  I share (some) here:

Age 15  -  I am the fat girl in school.  I want to fit in.  There is still wonderment and hope in the world.  I have hope for my future.  I want to be thin so people will like me.

Age 21 - I am so lost.   I am scared. 

Age 30 - There are people on the internet that think like me, that look like me, that say what they think..........  I'm not good enough.

Age 33 - I am writing.  I am wearing colour for the first time.  A LOT of colour.  I am still terrified of rejection.  I still don't feel good enough.

Today (aged 39.99 years) I am never scared to say what I think.  I probably say too much.  My wardrobe of beautiful, colourful dresses is overflowing.  I have confidence in both myself and my courage of conviction.  I have a fella who makes me feel sexy.  I have amazing friends.  I have self worth.

I am happier today than I have ever been in my life.  This happiness is as a result of the journey of life that I have been on.  The challenges that I have set myself.  The heartbreak and the loves.  The highs, the lows.   The girl who decided to become a woman and make her life as she wanted it to be.

I am proud of just how far that I have come in my life and you know what?  I would love to meet 21 year old me.  To give her advice, to give her a boost.  To tell her that she is going to be ok.  

To tell her that she will never suit red hair, no matter how many times she tries over the years to make it work (written now with another shade of red).

What challenges in your life have changed you?

If you are looking for other blogs to read, you can't go far wrong with reading Let Them Be Small

Exorcising The Ghosts Of Relationships Past

* Long read - you were warned!

Hello there!  It has been sooooooo long since I have written a personal post.  So long since the words have floated around in my head until I had no choice but to filter them down through my fingers on to the page.

As ever, I can articulate so much better when the words flow through my fingers as I type; but tonight is the first time in a long time that the words have danced, demanding to be set free.

So what am I talking about tonight?  The ghosts of past relationships as a fat, insecure woman.

Looking back at past experiences with men in my life is hard for me to remember.  The experience that I have had with relationships is little, the heartache, a lot.  I have been hidden, I have been put up with; I have been the dirty secret and the one that was so nearly "the one", had it not been for my body.

What I have come to realise over the past few months is that although I have been treated badly in the past, I have allowed this to happen to me.  When society and your peers tells you that as a fat woman, you are not good enough, eventually you believe it yourself. So you overcompensate.

When the #MeToo movement was starting to take shape, I shared some of my own experiences of what happened to me in the past.  I was a fat teenager, but I knew that the actions of those that touched and grabbed at me were wrong.  I knew that the words said to me were unacceptable.

I railed against them, but my words were ignored; my experiences were explained away,  when telling others as "wear a baggier school shirt" (I never wore a tight shirt by the by).  "You have large breasts, what can you expect" (erm basic respect?).  A look up and down at my body and a "you should be grateful for the attention" (fuck you).  A  particular teacher comes to mind.

Those last words shaped me and the experiences that I have had with men for a long time.  Not just from them, but people close to me.  That same message. Be grateful.   Take what you can get because you are fat.

So I allowed transgressions to happen to me because, maybe, I should be grateful.  I allowed myself to be hidden because who wants to have a fat girl as a girlfriend, right? Be happy that he likes you in private.

My love life up until this point has been a car crash, with me shaving off pieces of myself and handing them over on a plate trying to find that love, that attraction; so that someone, sometime will think that I am good enough for them.  That I deserve more than to be hidden or been embarrassed by.

The problem with shaving pieces off yourself is that eventually, you start to forget who you really are. When you give so much of yourself away each time with no return, you lose a piece of yourself.

Society and other elements made me feel like I was not good enough.  It is only now that I look back and realise that, as Eleanor Roosevelt so eloquently put:

No one can make you feel inferior, without your consent

I have always avoided men that found the larger woman attractive.  I did not understand how they could think of me as more than a fetish.  I had no clue or realisation that someone could actually find me attractive, sexy.

As I type right now, I am dating someone.  We met through Tinder, on my first couple of days when I thought that I would give it a whirl.  We have been dating a few months now.  I will call him A.

With A for the first couple of months I found myself in the same familiar cycle.  The insecurities.  The wondering if he really did find me attractive.  The fear when he said that he liked larger women.  Was I just a fetish?

When you have spent the whole of your adult life with your body as the compromise, it is hard to believe that someone can be turned on by your body.

The thing is, he makes me feel sexy.  I no longer feel like that I need to give so much of myself to overcompensate for my body.  He is attracted to my body and, for the first time in my life; I believe it.

So as these new experiences wash over me, I realise that I am in no rush.  I don't feel the need to be his girlfriend.  I don't have the craving for commitment and am in no rush.  We may progress, we may not.  But I am enjoying dating someone and just, for once, having fun.  The pressure to hand myself, my heart over on a plate is no longer there.

I have no idea what will happen with myself and A.  We may date for a while and it may fizzle out.  It  may progress.  Who knows?  But what I do know is that I can be myself.  I can be goofy.  I can be silly.  Turns out, I am a bit of a tease too, which amuses me endlessly.  I can feel attractive and know that he is attracted to me.  I don't hold back on what I think or who I am.  I may even let him read something that I have written, maybe.

I feel good enough for someone now.  It is a lesson that I had to learn for myself.  If nothing else happens between A and I, that feeling will stay with me.   This thing we have is 50/50.  We are figuring each other out, having fun, enjoying each other without pressure.  I no longer feel, as I have done every other time, like I am on an audition.

We are on a dance and who knows whether it will end or whether we will continue to dance.  All I know is that the pieces of myself that I gave away are coming back to me and it feels amazing.  The parts of me I gave away, I am taking them back.  I have owned who I am for years now.  Now I own what I look like, imperfections, perceived or otherwise; and all.

He has given me the confidence in my body it is true and that won't go whatever happens, but my self worth, I finally took that back for myself.

The dating experience I am having now, I should have had so long ago.  It is only now that I realise that this is what I always deserved.  What has happened before I let happen.   That is on me.  What happens now?  Who knows.  But I sure am enjoying the experience.

Taking The Time to Take Care Of Your Mind

A few years ago it was my good friend Shona's birthday and she wanted to go to a spa for the day and stay over at night.  As it was her 30th birthday, I could not say no, but I was dreading it. 

The whole process and (to be honest), the thought of walking around wearing a swimsuit, did not appeal at all.  I bought a swim dress which eased my nerves a lot and steeled myself for what was ahead.  I cared so much about what other people thought back then.  I worried that it would ruin the day for me.

It turned out to be a revelation.  By the end of a day of relaxing, laying back in the jacuzzi, steam rooms and swimming a few lengths in the pool, my mind was calmer and clearer than it had been for a long time.

Fast forward a few years and I am now a member of my local thermal spa.  I started by going a few times with my friend and then one day, I decided to go it alone for the first time.  This was a huge thing for me, but my mind became so clear and calm every time I went to the spa, that I knew that I needed to try.

Each step that I accomplished sounds so small, but for me, it was a huge leap.  Going on my own in the first place, sitting on my own in the jacuzzi, getting a cocktail, having a meal midday.  The first few times were hard, but the calmness in my mind that followed was worth every step.

Do you like my new swimsuit?  It is the first swimsuit that I have worn in 15 years. Probably more. I have finally gotten to a place in my life where I accept my anxiety issues and am in a better place in my confidence that I have ever been.

Previously on this blog I have posted many photographs of myself.  My dresses that I wear 24/7 do not hide the fact that I am fat, but have always been flattering, cut to diminish size sometimes and whilst always honest, have never left me feeling completely exposed.

Today, here I am.  I have a belly, I have wobbly thighs.  This is me.  Exposed.

I own my body, in every form that it takes.  My legs are thinner than they used to be due to walking my puppa, but do I care if my body does not change further? No.

My body is my own and I accept it whether I remain the size I am now forever, or lose weight.  My weight is unimportant to me.  My self worth, my self confidence and my happiness mean everything.  I am happy.

Now I can sit alone and not feel exposed.  I can sit and have a meal or a drink and not wonder if people are staring at me.  All I care about is that I can go to a place where I can put my feet on the side of the pool and float, looking at the stars in the ceiling above and reach calm.  Wipe my anxiety filled head and feel like me again.

This is a massive step for me, showing myself so exposed on this blog; and it makes me happier than you will ever know.

Last shot of the puppa who wanted to be involved in the photographs today and for someone so cute, who was I to deny him?

*This swimsuit was gifted to me by UK Swimwear but all opinions are my own

A Midnight Crisis of Confidence

You will have to forgive me.  This is a 12am post.  So not thought out, not rewritten or checked for confused sentences.  Just me.  Talking.  Panicking a little.

I have been very lazy of late when it comes to talking about body confidence on this blog.  That is something I am not happy about, because it is SO important to me.

As a fat woman, I have had a great year in terms of body confidence.  In truth, there has been so much going on in my life that it hasn't crossed my mind that much. Proof of just how far I have come.

Sure, I have momentary relapses, curled into myself when I have received derogatory comments, noticed the stares that were not complementary; but they have paled into insignificance with what has been going on with my life.  Mostly downs to be honest, for the past couple of years, although now, I am starting to see the sunshine again.

But, my midnight crisis confidence, 

I am a little scared.  A lot unsure.

I recently signed up for a year long thermal spa experience.  8 times a year which does wonders for relaxation.  So far, it has been with family and friends.  The spa is fabulous and although mixed sexes, I have, in the most part, felt comfortable in myself and ok with walking around in my swimsuit around others.  A good thing.

A couple of weeks ago I decided that I needed some spa time.  Just me.  Floating around in the jucazzi, staring at the stars in the ceiling in the dark relaxation swimming pool.  Perfect.  I booked my solo appointment, for tomorrow; without much of a thought, except for excitement of having a lovely couple of hours chilling out.

But, suddenly, the day has come.  The thought of walking around, on my own, in a mixed thermal spa experience in my swimsuit, terrifies me.  Do I feel any less because of who I am and what I look like? No. Do I take a scared breath at the thought of others looking at me, with judgemental eyes (as is inevitable at a spa from both sexes); yes.  A lot.

My safety blanket of a friend being there is not there.  I did not realise until tonight just how much I relied on someone else being there.  Someone to talk to when you see a judgemental stare, a derogatory glance.  I will exposed.  Nowhere to hide my insecurity.

So will I be the fat woman alone in the spa, hiding in the dark relaxation pool for cover, or will I be the woman who doesn't care, sitting in the jacuzzi actually enjoying some me time.  I don't know yet.

This is a far bigger step than I ever realised.  All safety nets gone.  Exposed.  Alone,  In one way I am excited.  Confident that I can meet this challenge ahead.  In another, I am so scared.

I am not the person that is able to talk easily with strangers.  I am odd.  I am going to be the fat woman alone in her swimsuit.  Experience tells me that this is not going to be easy. But I am more than just my body.  

So send me your steely looks.  Your don't give a fuck attitude.  Your "yes I am fat woman in a swimsuit" confidence.  

My screw you confidence may be waning today, but my stubborn "I will not hide" attitude is still full throttle. 

I am scared, as hell actually now I think about it, but I will do this.

Bored of the Diet Talk

I know that I am not alone in saying this, because I have seen many fat positive women saying the same, but the typical New Years Resolutions of “I am going on a diet because I ate a turkey, four mince pies and a chocolate truffle over Christmas; I look horrendous” are this year, really starting to get on my wick.

Now I am, as you know, a fat person.  It is a part of me but not all of who I am.  I am aware of it and the impact that seeing my body sometimes has on others.  You know the types, either those who like to insult you; in varying ways of behind your back (or hiding behind a computer screen) or those jellyfish stinger types who say “Oh I wish I had half of your confidence!” 

Which translates to:

“If I was as fat as you, I would hide in my shed”

I like my body.  I have no wish to change it.  If others wish to change their body, be it because it is a New Years resolution or otherwise, then do it, but for the love of fuck, stop trying to involve me in your diet talk because I am not interested and what’s more, it is boring as hell!

I cannot count the number of talks I have been party to or brought into with regard to weight loss recently. Including before Christmas “With all I am going to eat this Christmas, lets all challenge ourselves to a weight loss competition in January”.  Erm, no.  That is ridiculous.

Weight loss is not a competition and we should not be compare and contrasting each others bodies in order to declare a winner.  If you want to change something about your body then change it, but leave others out of it.

If your self worth relies on the size of your stomach and the number on your bathroom scales alone, then perhaps your New Years resolution should be to love yourself more.   Because losing 10 pounds after Christmas will not change that. 

Here is a New Years Resolution I intend on sticking to.

Photo Credit

My Fat Shaming Week

Trigger - comments shared about fat shaming - having a much needed vent

If you are fat, this has been one helluva week.  From Nicole Arbour's video, to the usual backlash against fat people because of it through trolls who surged like a swarm of locusts in delight at being to hurt a little more than usual.  

Then there was the whole #PlusisEqual campaign from Lane Bryant whose message that it was time to represent the 67% of women who are unrepresented on billboards; only then to use "socially acceptable" sized models in their campaign photograph.

I cannot help but think that while Lane Bryant may have an inkling of what their message actually means, they are not brave enough to carry through with it.  Ultimately they want to sell, that is their business.  But I know I, for one, would have seriously considered buying from them if they have been truly representative.  

I am not going to lie, this week for me it has been hard being a fat woman.  Not because I feel any less confident this week or feel any less about myself; but more because going through this week has been like being surrounded by jellyfish, not knowing when they are going to sting.

It started by seeing the "Dear Fat People" video shared on my Facebook timeline, by people who I know, progressing by troll attacks on my blog and Facebook page following my post about it (see here ) which I spent all yesterday's lunch time deleting.  

Comments that I am "glorifying obesity" simply by existing on the internet, that I am a whale that needs to be put down, that I am a gross and disgusting woman who will never be loved and that I need someone to shut my big fat mouth (never going to happen fuckwit).

While I do get trolled occasionally, I have been lucky, if lucky is even the right word in that it doesn't happen too often.  So to find so many comments this week has been hard; although sadly I did half expect it because of my posting about a video that has been talked about worldwide.

This was also a week where I have been targeted by the general public more than usual too.  From the woman who openly laughed at me to her friend as I walked past (get a life and work on your own issues sweetheart), to the man who commented to his girlfriend that I had a pretty face, only for her to comment "Yeah but look at the fat!".  Insecure much love?

This week culminated in me blowing my top when a teenager passing in a car with her presumed parent shouted out of the window at me as I crossed the road "Oh gross, she is huge!".  I turned around, gave her the finger and screamed fuck off at her.  I was half expecting the mother to turn the car around and have a go at me for shouting at her daughter, but she didn't.  Hopefully she was ashamed of her daughter.  I know I would be.

This week now comes to the near end.  I leave it still happy in myself, still confident, still wearing bloody amazing dresses and feeling awesome while wearing them.  It also leaves me sad and hurt.  

Sad that there are still people who use fat people as a vehicle for clicks and subscriptions, sad that trolls get their kicks from trying to hurt others.  I am also hurt that people I know, as well as random people on the street think it acceptable to share hateful videos and comment negatively about me right to my face, or behind my back; as if either my feelings do not exist or they are of no consequence.

Next time you make a fat joke, next time you share a derogatory video that you think has no consequence because "fat people deserve it", next time you troll (ok, there is no hope for them), look into the eyes of the person you want to insult and ask yourself:  What kind of human being do I want to be?  Don't be a dick.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

The image that we see in the mirror is different for everyone.  For some, we see clearly what we look like, for others, the image is distorted.  The reflection looking back is viewed through a filter of society's expectations and with that, our perception of the way we look changes.

I have spoken about this previously in my post The Image in the Mirror 

What particularly interests me however is the way in which that society filter disappears when we look at our friends and the ones we love.  We do not judge them by the way that society judges us, we love them for who they are and we appreciate their own beauty.  We do not see the so called imperfections that we see in ourselves.

I was chatting the other day to a woman that I know well.  She was telling me about a brilliant night out she had been on with some friends.  She then proceeded to show me a photograph taken of her with her friends saying "Look how horrible and fat I look compared to them".

I looked at the photograph and saw a gorgeous, happy, smiling woman. 

A thought then occurred to me and I asked her to tell me what she would think if she and another person saw a photograph of me and that other person commented how fat I was and how horrible I looked.

Immediate anger crossed her face and she said something along the lines of "Just let them say something like that in front of me!"

This, right here, is the most complex issue that needs to be dealt with.  Thinking it completely unacceptable to insult me, a woman much fatter than her, yet it was perfectly acceptable for her to act that way towards herself.

This does not just happen between my friend and I, it happens everywhere.  Women judging themselves, picking apart their appearances and hating themselves for the way they look yet also simultaneously knowing that such hate is wholly wrong.  Two exact forms of hate, kept in a perfect balance, until you point it out.

Contrary to the popular belief, I think that people need to look in the mirror more, not less.  Get comfortable with the way you look.  Take that selfie, take a thousand of them.  Embrace that face that is uniquely yours and recognise the beauty within it. 

Look at your body, remember how far it has taken you, what it helps to you accomplish every single day.  Look at the things that you love about it.  Aside from your mind, it is the most precious thing you have and will be with you your whole life.

There are no wrong features and there is no wrong way to look.  Our uniqueness is beautiful.  The red freckle on the end of my nose that I used to hate and cover hastily with makeup is now loved.  It is distinctive to me and a part of me. 

Start that love affair.  

The Disabled Overweight (And Why We’re Not Unicorns)

Today on the blog I have the lovely Hazel guest posting for me from Frocktopus.  Hazel is talking today about size shaming and the disabled overweight.  This is a fantastic read and I am so pleased that she agreed to post for me.

As much as I don’t want to believe it, unicorns don’t exist. The nine year old inside me is crying just typing that. I on the other hand do exist, and as much as we all like to feel a little like we’re special snowflakes, there are literally millions of people just like me on this planet - I’m overweight and I’m disabled.

I’m writing about these things for the ever fabulous curved opinion today because this blog is all about body positivity and Vicky has written some amazing posts about the plus sized movement, which sadly goes hand in hand with talking about size shaming.

Often I’m essentially excused from size shaming, not because I’m of average BMI (on my scale of awesome fictional characters from Flat Stanley to Jabba the Hutt I happily sit just shy of Vicar of Dibley) but because I’m disabled. A fact people seem to forget when vilifying under/overweight people.

“That’s me!” I shout.

“Not you, you’re exempt” they blush. “Besides I don’t think of you as fat”

some of the nicer friends say.

“Do one” I say, hitting the Facebook block button, passive aggressive as ever.

These are people that would, quite rightly, be in uproar if someone said “But you can’t help being black” or “But I don’t think of you as a woman.” These are not valid excuses people, if you’re going to make sweeping statements and presumptions about a subset or society, it’s a good idea to stop, look left and right then think, can these people be expected to live up to my ideals, and should they be expected to?

Shaming people on the basis that 'people can do stuff but they won’t' is presuming you know someone's situation better than they themselves (something I regularly try to check with my ‘Am I being a dick?' filter.) Not everyone is able to cook healthy food, eat healthy food and exercise regularly enough to be an ideal weight. 

If you’re thinking a group of people aren’t doing something they should, it’s probably a good idea to take into account the subsets of that group that sometimes cannot physically do those things, be it by poverty, carpophobia or disability.

Another often touted belief is 'It’s wrong to have an unhealthy role model'. This is not only saying large swathes of disabled people can’t have a role model, it’s saying large swathes of disabled people can’t BE a role model, which is discrimination by omission (a law/rule/belief that isn’t specifically aimed at a subset of people but accidentally persecutes them more than average, for example losing job security for taking long periods of time off work discriminates parents by omission.) 

It’s important for all people to have someone that can make them feel like they aren’t a freak and that they can accomplish something great, whether that’s being an Olympian or getting out of your PJs by noon (FYI I am in my PJs at 11am writing this, I bet Tess Holiday’s in a fucking power suit by this time of day). 

This attitude towards over/underweight disabled people is not only pretty discriminatory but I do not believe it’s about health. Size shaming often masquerades as concern for health but it’s only a small portion of apparent health people can see on the surface.

Whilst I’ve been told probably over a hundred times in my life that I’m overweight, I have never once had someone in the street yell "Oi, Your blood sugar is low”. There are many ways people can be healthy and unhealthy (for example I’m teetotal) but there is an inordinate emphasis on extremes of weight due to societies revulsion.

Phobia and revulsion are very closely linked psychologically, that’s why when you have blood taken you’re sometimes asked to lay down on a table, because if you’re scared you don't faint, if you do it’s due to revulsion, even though the mind computes them both as the same thing. and what is concern? Come on, you know where I’m going with this, fear for another person. 

So body shamers,  we know you care, it’s just we don’t need your compassion/revulsion. What we need is for you to stop and think “Is this discrimination by omission?" "Am I presuming people I know someone's situation more than they do?" Am I being a dick? 

I Won't Dance (But Still Ask Me)

I LOVE to dance.  Always did.  When I was in my early teens I used to have dancing lessons, learning the Latin American dances of the cha-cha and the tango and the classics like the waltz and foxtrot. I got up to my second Gold Bar before I stopped.  Looking back, I cannot actually pinpoint why or when I decided to end my lessons.

I started to go out to clubs when I was 16 and loved dancing with my friends.  We would stay out way into the small hours, dancing until our feet hurt.   We all had an active social life at the weekends for many years, but gradually, my participation on the dance floor lessened.  Again, I cannot pinpoint the exact time that I stopped, around my mid twenties I think, but this time I do know why; I got scared.  

The stares, the laughs; the comments, the ridicule at the fat girl dancing.  It did not happen all the time but regularly enough that on each night out I started to wait for it to happen.  

The fear of other people's ridicule grew greater than my love to dance.  

I stopped dancing and instead, I was the one stood on the sidelines, watching my friends happily dancing away.  Occasionally, fueled by enough alcohol and the combination of a brilliant song, I would join them; only for the fear to return and I would be back to standing at the side.

I do not want to be this way.  I have improved every aspect of my life through my growing confidence; yet my ability to go on to a dance floor still eludes me.  

The "dancing man" was recently in the headlines.  Ridiculed on Reddit for daring to dance whilst being fat (typical for the cretins on Reddit) his story went viral and only a couple of weeks ago he was thrown a party with thousands of people in attendance and with Moby as the DJ.    He has since been on numerous TV shows and appeared at a LA Dodgers game.

Would this happen to a woman?  It is perhaps a controversial question but somehow, I doubt it.  I have been fat shamed by many a fat man who does not seem to see the irony in this.  For some reason, it is more "wrong" for a woman to be fat than a man, in society's view in any case.

That said, the experiences of the dancing man warmed my heart.  It gave me courage that not all people in this world are horrible people,  That, with my new found confidence, it may be safe to once again go back onto the dance floor.

That is my mission to myself this summer.  Dance.  Without a care of who is watching. 

The Right to Love

There are seven billion people on this planet.  Seven billion sounds like such a large number and yet, each one of those seven billion are unique to themselves.  There is no one else exactly like they are in the world.

Everything from our physical appearance, the way that we dress, our personalities; our views; our political leanings and our likes and dislikes all come together to shape someone who is one of a kind.

In turn, the ways in which we choose our prospective partners works in a similar way.  We are complex creatures and we all want different things, be it purely on a physical or a deeper level.

Beauty however is only skin deep.  You may meet someone who ticks every box when it comes to the physical aspects that you find appealing, but when you learn their personality, their character traits; this can change your original opinion completely.

I could meet, for example, the twin of my celebrity crush George Clooney but if he was a member of the English Defence League, I would be off running in a different direction.   Because someone like that is not my type, regardless of how they look.

Physically, we are all attracted to different things.  Tall, short, average height, blonde, brunette, red head, long legs, large breasts, small breasts, broad shoulders, lean, a great smile, tattoos, piercings, fat, thin; the list could go on forever.

Given that we all like different physical traits, different personalities and opinions; can you imagine how ridiculous it would be if we did try to impose our preference choices on others?  Not only would it not work, but what you would essentially be saying is that everyone apart from your own preferred type did not deserve love.

Sounds absurd doesn't it.  Yet it happens every day.   Because girls grow up being told that in order to "get a boyfriend", in order to "be attractive", in order to be loved, they have to be thin.  If you are not thin, you are the booby prize.  You are the one night stand they will never admit to.  You are a fetish. Men who like you are labelled chubby chasers.

Can you imagine it happening to any other physical characteristic?  "Were you drunk last night?  You pulled a girl with brown hair".  Sounds ridiculous doesn't.

Well enough is bloody well enough.  I've had it.  People and their narrow opinions can quite frankly stick themselves and their bigoted asses where the sun does not shine.  I  refuse to be told that I am not "good enough" to be dated, that I do not deserve to be loved because I am fat.

The shape of my body may not appeal to some but it does to others and guess what?  That works the same way for everyone.  BECAUSE WE ALL LIKE DIFFERENT THINGS!!!!

Fat, happy, deserves love and is damn well going to find it.

Screw you Daily Mail Readers.

My Big Fat Rant

Today is my monthly guest column with @fashionworked and I'm having a bit of a rant... Timely given the troll activity on my blog this week as pictured below and the activity on brand Facebook pages and also other on other blogs.

Here is the link to my post http://fashionworked.wordpress.com/2014/02/02/the-plus-perspective-3/

My First Vlog

Hello all, posting my first ever vlog today.  Please excuse the scared rabbit in headlights look!

The vlog can be found on YouTube here!