Forget the Fail-mongers!

So I was telling a friend today about yesterday’s drama in the comments with “Anna” and her whole Eeyore attitude of “You are so going to fail, you’ll never make any difference, you may as well just give up now.” and we got talking about fear of failure and whether or not it is a useful emotion to hold.

For my whole life, I’ve been told not to be too ambitious.  Not to get my hopes up too high.  Not to have unrealistic expectations.  Nobody important will ever listen to you.  You can’t change things, you may as well just work out the best way to live with it.  You’ll only regret it when it doesn’t go the way you want it to.

On Monday, I turn 38.  Not particularly old, not particularly young.  Though I know it will sound positively ancient to some of you!  When I think back to the things I’ve regretted across my life, not once has it ever been something that I’ve had a go at, and not succeeded.  I’ve failed plenty of times in my life at lots of different things, but I have never regretted a single one of those.  The things I have regretted, are the times when I’ve been too scared to have a go.  All those moments that I just missed because of fear of failure; the guy I fell in love with at 19 that I never told how I felt (and found out years later that he felt the same way, but it was now too late!), the job I never went for because I was scared I wasn’t qualified for (which someone far less qualified than I was got), the dance competition I pulled out of because I was sure I would be laughed out of because of my fatness, the business idea I had but was sure I would have failed at so I didn’t try.  Those are the things I regret.

However, when I think of the leaps I’ve taken that haven’t quite happened as I had hoped, I don’t regret any of them.  I’ve told people I’ve loved them and been rejected, I’ve had a business that folded, jobs that it turned out I wasn’t suitable for, and so on.  I don’t regret those at all, in fact I am proud that I had a go, gave it my best shot and lived through the experience.

When I was 10, I saw an article in my mother’s Women’s Weekly about the comedienne Phyllis Diller, who had a massive postcard collection.  The photo was of Phyllis sitting on this huge pile of postcards from all around the world.  I told my mother that I wanted to collect postcards like that.  “Don’t be silly!” she said “Only famous people could do that, they get them sent by all their fans.”  But I decided to start and asked my relatives to send me postcards when they went on holidays.  Then when I was a teenager, I got into writing to penpals, and I asked them to send me postcards from their holidays.  By the time I was a young adult, everyone knew of my obsession with postcards and would send them to me when they went anywhere.  Friends, family, colleagues, penpals, you name it.  People would buy vintage ones off eBay for me and give them to me as birthday gifts.  Today I have a pile far bigger than the one Phyllis Diller sat on in that photograph in Women’s Weekly and I don’t know what to do with them all!!

When I was 20, a friend of mine asked me “If you had all the money you could need, what would you do?”  Straight away I blurted “I’d start a radio station.”  (Bear in mind, this was pre-internet so being able to share your favourite music was not as possible as it is today.)  His response was  “I totally knew you’d say that!  Why wait until the highly unlikely happens?  Can’t we just do it now?”  We got talking about it and thought that perhaps we could look into community radio.

I remember a lot of people told us we couldn’t do it.  We were too young.  Nobody would want to hear anything from us.  There’s no way we could find the money to do it.  Only rich or famous people could start radio stations.

But somehow we got in contact with some people from another community radio station, and took a road trip to meet them.  They told us how to get started, by holding a community meeting to propose the idea and see who would be interested in volunteering.  We did, thanks to a friend of mine who had a venue we could use and a whole bunch of contacts.

At that meeting, the local politician told us that we’d never make it happen, commercial radio was going to come into town and they’d squash us.  The local newspaper editor told us we’d never make it happen, nobody would trust their news from a bunch of volunteers on a hack radio station.  More than half the room had some reason why we’d never make it happen.

But one local businessman wrote a cheque for $1000, handed it to me and said “It’s all yours kiddo, just say my business name on air at your first broadcast.”

A couple of years later, after we lobbied, ran surveys, begged favours, did radio announcing lessons with another community radio station, drummed up donations and sponsorship, had dozens of fund raising events, and worked really hard that first broadcast happened.  It was only a trial broadcast, but I was so proud to announce that first donation from our very first sponsor from that first meeting.  A year after that, we got our first temporary license to broadcast for a season.  Then we got one for a year.  Now, 18 years after my friend Marty asked me that first question about what I’d do with limitless funds, Beau FM is still running.  It’s still an amateur community radio station, but it outlasted two commercial radio stations and survived a pretty full on campaign from a local newspaper to shut them down.  Marty and I may have both fallen out with the committee, but what we did, from that one kernel of an idea that almost everyone told us that we couldn’t do, is still there.

Ice hockey great Wayne Gretzky once said “You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.” He’s absolutely right.  Sure, you might fail, but failure is how we learn, how we work our way to success.  It might be embarrassing, sure.  But there is not a human being who has ever inhabited this earth, or ever will, who has lived their life free of embarrassment, or never tasted failure.

As Thomas Edison once said “I didn’t fail, I just found ten thousand ways that didn’t work.”

We have a choice in life.  We can have a go and live with the knowledge that we gave it our best shot, and at least asked the questions and spoke up about something we believe in or are passionate about, or we can just fear failure and expect that nothing we do will ever make a difference.  Maybe it won’t, but maybe we’ll pave the way for someone else to make the change we fought so hard for in the first place.

One of my favourite quotes of all time was given to me by my dear friend Ian about 20 years ago.  It’s very simple and one I try to live by:

 

Be realistic.  Plan for a miracle.

 

 

I’m Listening: What You Want

Well, I’m so thrilled with the response I have got to + Plus-Size Plus +!  I’ve already had 60 people sign up to the page on Facebook in just a few days.   On Friday, after seeing some people had already done so, I asked people to post the top 3 things they’d like to see improved in plus-sized clothing retail in Australia.  I’ve got some great responses which I’d like to share with you here, and invite you to add any more you might have.

I will condense those together who have asked for the same thing so that we’ll keep this post as concise as possible.  I know you’re all very patient with my long posts!

1.  Better fabrics.  More natural fabrics.  Better quality fabrics.  Most folks are sick of polyester and it’s cousins nylon and rayon.  Thicker fabrics.  Especially around knits – some available now are so thin that you can push your finger through them, and they’re so thin they cling to your undergarments or body in just the most irritating way.  Fabrics that don’t pill or snag.

2.  Options with sleeves.  Some folks like baring their arms.  Others wish to feel the comfort/warmth of having sleeves.  Most plus-sized fashion seems to be either sleeveless or have 3/4 sleeves.  How about  full length sleeves, or elbow length, or cap sleeves as options.  And for the sleeveless tops and dresses – make those armholes the proper size.  Not huge gaping holes that expose the bra, ribs and sides of bodies.

3.  Colour.  Black, navy, white, chocolate and beige are all well and good as “anchor” pieces for an outfit, but how about some colour?  ALL colour, not just one or two.  Bright colours, pastels, nudes, neons, the works.

4. Palatable prints.  Not “jolly fat lady” big florals.  Not Nanna prints.  Not “let’s camouflage the wobbly bits” big bands of dark colour.  Prints that are pretty, striking, fun, iconic, feminine, mod, stylish and so on.

5.  Tailoring/shape.  No more mu-mus.  Clothes with waists, busts, hips, style shaped into them.  No more boxy or baggy “hide the body” shapes.  But shape that actually fits a body, not random sticky-out bits added for “interest”.  When stretch knits are used, they need shape too, so they’re not saggy baggy or so tight that they look forced on.

6. Bust lines that fit large breasts.  Straps/bodices that fit a bra that a plus-sized and large breasted woman needs to wear to support her breasts.

7.  Accessories that fit and are attractive.  Belts made to fit a larger waist.  Bangles that go over larger hands, necklaces that are the right length and don’t choke larger necks.  Rings that fit larger fingers.  Tights, stockings, thigh highs and fishnets that fit larger sizes properly (and aren’t assuming that fat women are amazon tall women).

8.  Attractive underwear.  Bras that are practical, comfortable AND pretty.  Knickers that are cute, pretty, sexy, fun, modern.  Fat women don’t all want to wear beige cottontails.

9.  For those retailers that are department stores, how about some more floorspace, and some more prominent floorspace.  We’re sick of a tiny percentage of the overall clothing space down the back near the fire escape or the elevator or the staff entrance being our zone.  How about expanding the amount of stock, the space it’s displayed in (no more stacking it all in sideways so that you have to pull it out to look at it, because fat lady clothes shouldn’t be displayed outwardly like the straight sizes) and the location to somewhere more inclusive.

And the final one for today, the one that I find the most important and that was repeated by several people:

10.  The same things that are offered in straight sized ranges.  Yep, we want all the variety and the fashion of the straight sizes, just made to fit bigger bodies.

So that’s what some of you have left on the Facebook page as what you want from plus-sized retailers.  Can you think of any others?  Either leave them in the comments below, or pop on over to the Facebook page.

And may I ask you to please share http://www.facebook.com/PlusSizesPlus with any other plus-sized ladies you know.  Collectively we will make a change!

Let’s Make it Better

I want to talk about bullying.  But I’m struggling with it, because even now, when I am in a safe, happy place in my life, when I am bully free and strong, I still feel hurt and fear.  Just thinking about what I suffered at the hands of bullies plunges me back into all of those emotions, even though rationally I know that I am safe and strong.

But I HAVE to talk about it.  Because not only is it good for me personally to voice all of these demons that bother me, but because being open about it, putting out there into the world what people are suffering every single day, and calling it out for what it is, is needed to help battle the very deeply ingrained bully culture of our world.

Brace yourself, this is going to be a long post.

Bullying is by no means a new thing.  It happened to me all my life and I’m 38 this month.  As a child, as a teen, and yes, even as an adult.  And I know it’s been happening for so long in history one couldn’t pinpoint an origin.  But I do think that it is particularly vicious in our time now.  I’m not saying it’s at it’s most vicious now, or that it we haven’t had equally/more vicious periods of bullying in our history.  I do think it comes and goes in cycles perhaps, as society finds excuses, until the inevitable backlash comes along.  It’s time for that backlash now.

I am of course, right now, spurred on by the It Gets Better project, which is in response to the suicide of several young gay men who were bullied to the point of losing all hope.  However, while I do want to send a message of support out to the young queer folk out there, and talk to them about the bullying they go through, I want to broaden this to anyone who has suffered, or is suffering at the hands of bullies.  Whether that be because you are GLBT, fat, shy, female, small, different, just an easy target… whatever reason the bullies have chosen you, I want to talk to you in this post.  And that goes to those of you who have been bullied in the past but are doing ok now.

So let’s start with my story.

As I mentioned, I was bullied my whole life.  I came from an abusive home, so perhaps I already had the mark on me of being a suitable victim.  I don’t know, but it definitely started before I got fat, so it’s not just my fatness that was the reason.  I can remember being pushed over at Kindergarten by a boy who was bigger than me on more than one occasion, for no good reason that I knew.  When I went to primary school, I got it there.  Menaced by bigger boys for any money I might have (which was very little if any), or my stuff, even if it was cheap and crappy.  I was made fun of for being poor, for being dirty, for being fat (even before I was fat), for being stupid (which I have never been), or just because I was available for bullying.  When I got a little older I would stand up to the bullies if they targeted my younger brother, but if I was just on my own, I seemed to lack the confidence to do so.   They would push me around, throw food or anything else gross they could think of at me, steal my school stuff and hide it or destroy it, make fun of how I looked or what I was wearing, or lie to teachers and get me in trouble when I hadn’t done anything.

But, in primary school I had friends, a couple of lovely teachers, and my beloved school library (complete with teacher-librarians who I still idolise today), so I survived.  It was much harder surviving what was being dished out at home than dealing with what was happening at school.

When I got to high school, things changed.  I got fat.  Puberty hit at the end of primary school so I was far more developed than my peers.  Added to the mark I already seemed to have on me labelling me as a perfect bully victim, it equaled 5 years of living hell.  For the first time, the girls started in on me.  Say what you like, boys might be rougher and bigger, but girls are far, far more vicious bullies.  There was one girl who had a pair of twin sisters as friends.  Think of the two oafs that Draco Malfoy has as his henchmen in Harry Potter… Crabbe and Goyle.  That’s what these two twins were like.  Twice my size, mind numbingly stupid, but would do anything that the Malfoyesque girl told them to do.  They beat the shit out of me.  They burnt my stuff.  They followed me home (across the street from the high school, fucking great huh?) and stood there on the corner for hours on end, menacing me.  They told the older boys that I liked them and that I’d sleep with them for money.  They rang the school pretending to be a concerned parent and dobbed on me for doing things I didn’t do.  They told my violent father that they caught me smoking.  They stole my lunch and ground it in the dirt.  They cornered me in the girls toilets and forced me to stick my fingers down my throat until I vomited, and told me that I had to do that after every meal because I was so fat and disgusting.  They found a boy to piss on me, which he would do every couple of days.  They got other boys to ring my house and ask me out, and then laugh at me no matter what reaction I had.  They spat on me, they stole my school books, they tore my school uniforms, they just never fucking stopped.  All the while the main girl just told them what to do, and spewed hateful words at me.

One day when I was about 14, something snapped.  I lashed out with a steel ruler that I happened to have in my arms with my school books, and hit the main girl across the face with it.  I was horrified but I had just snapped.  The deputy principal took me into his office and said “I know you’re not that girl, you’re not violent.  But I know what goes on at home, and that you don’t want to be that person.  Don’t ever come back into my office for this reason again.”

They never bothered me again.  In fact, even the oaf twins gave me a wide berth.

But the bullying didn’t stop.  Older kids stepped in.  Boys got worse.  They grabbed my breasts, forced me into corners and grabbed my crotch.  They pulled down my pants.  They asked me out and then screamed with laughter at the mere thought of dating me.  They spat on me, pissed on me, threw dog shit at me, you name it.

I changed schools in my Senior year because my mother moved us to a new town.  The bullying happened there too, just with different kids.  But they could have been the same kids.  They looked and sounded like the same kids to me.

Teachers never helped.  They told me not to be so sensitive, not to engage with the bullies, not to take things so seriously, to mind my own business, to get a hobby, to lose weight, to apply myself better in school.  My parents didn’t care, they were too busy fighting each other and bullying me themselves.

By the time I was 16, I wanted to die.  It was the only way I could see an end to it.  But for some reason, I never did it.  I just wanted dying to happen, I couldn’t do it myself.

After I left school, there were some good years, but soon after more bullies found me.  One of my first full time bosses bullied me for fun.  A neighbour bullied me.  I had some more good years.  Then a colleague bullied me for a couple of years that were absolutely hellish, and which only stopped when a bullying complaint was filed on my behalf (when I simply asked for help) and while that complaint was dismissed because of a technicality, for some reason the bullying stopped too.

I got help with my self esteem and the depression issues (which I believe are part chemical, part result of constant abuse and bullying my whole life).  Things are good for me now, and I know I would never, ever take the shit that I once used to tolerate.  But in those bad years, time and time again I wished for death to claim me, a few times I got to the point of attempting it myself.

So I know, oh believe me I know how it feels.

Now, to those of you who are young and think it never ends.  It does.  You are not what they say you are.  You are not worthless, ugly, disgusting, gross, nothing.  You will survive this.  And it WILL get better.  Please, please don’t give up.  Talk to someone.  Call or email something like The Trevor Project, or Kids Helpline, or Lifeline, or something else in your state/country along those lines (anyone who knows any services, please share links in the comments).  But hang in there.  Hold your head up and know that you DO deserve better.

And I promise you this.  I am working to MAKE it better.  It’s not fair of people to just say “Hang in there, it will get better.” without doing anything to make it better.  You shouldn’t have to just ride it out and tolerate being bullied.  But if you can hang on, I and a lot of other people who care, will work to make it better, to change things.  I will fight to change the cultural attitude of permitting bullying, or excusing it.  I will ask others to stand beside me in that fight.  It has to change.

Now to those of you who are adults and have suffered bullying in the past.  Or those of you who maybe have or know kids you’re worried about when it comes to bullying.  I need to talk to all of you.

It’s not right that we ask kids to hang on, to suffer through the bullying with the vague promise that “it gets better”.  We need to MAKE it better.  We need to teach our own children, and all of those around us, that bullying is never, ever acceptable.  I’ve seen posts over the past couple of days saying that bullies do so because they hate themselves, or because they’re the victims of abuse at home themselves, and a myriad of other reasons.  I’m here to say that while I care that people feel this way, I DO NOT ACCEPT THOSE EXCUSES.

I hated myself my whole life, until I was past 35.  I came from a violent, abusive home.  Lot’s of us did/do.  Lots of us have things in our lives that made/make us miserable, but do we turn to bullying to deal with that?  No.  Because we know it’s just a very pathetic excuse to be a cretin.

I do not accept any justification for bullying.  I am not going to give bullies sympathy and hugs.  Not until they stop bullying.  If and when anyone chooses to be a good human being, and to treat others with basic respect, then I will encourage them and support them until the ends of the earth.  But so long as someone is bullying others there need to be decent repercussions for that behaviour.  We need to stop making excuses and enabling bullies.  We need to speak up and say it is unacceptable, over and over and over again.  We need to tell our friends, our families, our colleagues that bullying behaviour is not acceptable.  We need to work to make it better for the kids that are coming up behind us.  We cannot let the same injustices happen over and over again.

It’s time we stood up and said loud and clear that bullying is NEVER acceptable. Change takes time, but we have to stand up and start making that change.  The kids of today will join us down the track, and more and more after them.

Let’s not expect young people to just suffer through bullying.  Let’s make a difference.

Take Back the ‘Net

Ok, I’m declaring war on all of the trolls and bullshit artists I get on this blog, and my other blogs for that matter.  I’m royally fed up with these cretins coming into MY space and trying to bully me, intimidate me, hate me, annoy me, post with fake names/accounts (sock-puppeting) spam me with fake concern about my fatness, waste my time and/or do any or all of the above to my respectful readers, you’re about to get what you deserve.

There is this culture in blogging where writers are expected to be civil, be respectful to anyone who comes to their blog and comments.  You’re supposed to “give them the benefit of the doubt”, “encourage discussion” and “keep an open mind” when it comes to commenters on your blogs.  However, it’s a totally one sided concept.  Because every day when I log on to WordPress, I’m confronted with this bullshit, even though I’ve tried to keep civil and give people the benefit of the doubt, nobody calls the trolls on this.  Where is their civility and respect for me?

99% of the troll comments I see on my blogs never see the light of day.  They get relegated to my spam filter quick sticks and in most cases, when they don’t see their comment go public and don’t get a reaction out of me, they go away.  The real pisser though is that for every one that goes away, there are more waiting in line to have a go.

They are of course, worst on this blog.  There is something about a fat woman blogging and being proud of herself, confident and having strong self esteem that simply enrages trolls, and they just can’t leave without leaving some bullying behind to try to cause hurt.

That’s what this boils down to, no matter what the method.  It’s bullying.  Whether it’s the “Oh, but what about your health?” concern trolls, the “Fucking die you fat bitch” full blown hatred trolls, the argumentative trolls that try to read something into your work that you’re not saying, the “freedom of speech” trolls who try to bully the blogger into allowing them to spread their hate by suggesting that they’re being censored if they are blocked or deleted, no matter what kind of troll you have infesting your blog, it’s bullying.  It’s trying to make you feel bad, or shut you up, or make others laugh at you, or to get you to react.

That is bullying.

It’s not discussion, it’s not telling the truth, it’s not keeping it real, it’s not concern, it’s not for your own good.  It’s simply bullying to make you feel bad and to silence your voice.

The abdication of responsibility in online bullying is one thing that infuriates me.  If I “publicly” (and I acknowledge that online is still public, but you get what I mean) said some of the things that troll bullies say to people online, there would be outrage.  But because it’s behind a username, or in the comments on a blog, or someone’s Facebook or Twitter, and so on, it’s written off as something one just has to suffer through as the price to pay for being online.

I read this fantastic piece by Anil Dash called “There is No Such Thing as Cyberbullying” today.  In it, Anil calls out the practice of diminishing online bullying as something that is the fault of the technology, and not the perpetrators behind it.  The internet doesn’t bully gay kids into suicide, or fat people/women/bloggers into giving up their writing, PEOPLE do.  And those people need to be held responsible for their actions.

Just today I came across this post from the lovely Georgina at Cupcake’s Clothes where she talks about some utter arsehole who stole a photograph of her from her site, and photoshopped it “thin”, and then anonymously sent it back to her.  What kind of loser, what kind of sad, pathetic little person has time in their life to do that shit?

I don’t know about you, but I don’t have time to read the blogs that I love, and comment on all of them.  Let alone go to a blog and bully someone as a troll.  What kind of life does someone have if they have time to do that?  Or have time to take a perfectly good photo of someone off a website and photoshop the shit out of it?

My time is at a premium.  But I’m going to make time to take on some of this.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve had enough of this bullshit.  I say it’s time to take back the internet from the bullies.

I say it’s time that we start taking a few simple steps to show the bullies that there are repercussions to harassing people online.  There are several things you and I can do.

• Publish their email addresses and IP’s online for all to see.  Then other bloggers can block them/add them to spam filters.
• Take their IP, and look it up.  If they are posting from their workplace, then contact their employers and make a formal complaint that they are bullying people from a workplace computer.  I personally have had bullies post comments from companies that I could easily identify by their IP details.  Trust me, businesses don’t want the bad press of their employees bullying people from work computers.
• If they are threats of violence or other crime, then take the time to report them to the administrators of your blog, Facebook, Twitter or other platform.
• Support one another.  Instead of just letting bullies say whatever they like unchallenged, when you see it on a blog/Facebook anywhere else, speak up.  Call them out, tell them their behaviour is not acceptable.
• Blog about how bullying is not acceptable online.  The more we talk about it, the more momentum it will gain.
• Bullies operate on fear.  Don’t be afraid, get angry.
• Remember that your blog, your Facebook, your Twitter, your account with anything is YOURS.  Ask yourself – would I accept someone treating me like this in my house?  If the answer is no, then don’t accept it in your online spaces.
• Most importantly, don’t let the bullies silence you.  Don’t let them win.  Don’t reward their behaviour.

We can change this.  The internet doesn’t belong to bullies, it belongs to us.  All of us.  Collectively, we make the rules.

Opting Out of the Game

I am inspired by this post over on Spilt Milk to talk tonight about the thinking behind fat acceptance as an alternative to the whole beauty industry and beauty standards of Western culture.

One of the things I keep seeing from the anti-fat acceptance camp is the attitude that fat acceptance in any form is encouraging people to become fat.  That by celebrating fat bodies, encouraging fat bodies to be seen and respected, that we’re somehow advocating that people who are not already fat, should become fat.  Or already fat people get fatter.

What I think it all boils down to is that there is a perception that fat acceptance is the direct opposite of the current beauty ideal.  That beauty ideal being that thinner = better.  So therefore, those who oppose fat acceptance on these grounds are suggesting that fat acceptance advocates believe that fatter = better.

That’s just not how it works.

The key word in here is acceptance.

The thinner = better camp are pushing constantly for bodies to change to fit  a beauty ideal, ie; fat people should lose weight because if they get thinner, their lives will be better.

But fat acceptance is not about changing your body to make your life better.  We’re not saying that you will be happier if you are fat like us.  What we are saying is that if you accept yourself as you are, right now, whatever your size and/or shape, your life will be better.  That includes the thin people too.

It is a difficult concept to grapple with, when magazines, advertising, movies and television, books, gossip blogs, everything in the mainstream is telling you that you need to change yourself to be happy.  That you need to lose weight, remove body hair, flatten your stomach, wear these clothes, drink that drink, buy those products and so on.

You don’t need to change yourself to be happy.

You do need to accept yourself to be happy.

That doesn’t mean that you can’t have goals to change things in your life, not at all.  But it does mean that if you are making that change to be happy, or because other people think you should, or because you can’t stand who you are right now, or because you don’t match what magazines and telly tell you that you should be like, then you’re going to come out the other side of that change and find that there will be a whole new set of things that you will feel compelled to change to make yourself happy.  To find that the goalposts have been moved.

Here’s the thing.  Happiness isn’t something you achieve, or earn, or find.  Happiness is right there in you at every single moment of your life.  It’s not out there to be found, it’s just in you to be seen.  You carry it with you, whether you’re using it or not, it’s there.

The best way to see it?  Acceptance of it’s presence.  Acceptance of who you are.  And acceptance doesn’t mean resignation.  It doesn’t mean you throw your hands up and say “Well right!  I’m a big fat ass!  There!  I accept it!”  Acceptance is saying “This is my body.  It’s mine and it’s me.  It works very hard for me, and is beautiful in it’s own way.  And I love it for what it does for me, despite it not always doing what I, or the world around me, think it should do and be.”

Then, and only then, can you successfully move to the “Now, what can I do with this wonderful body of mine to make life even better?”  That’s where the ability to change things comes in.

That’s where fat acceptance works against the “thinner = better” mentality.  Not to be the opposite of it, but to opt out of it.

Because that’s the lie we’re being sold.  The lie that you have to be someone else, to change yourself, for life to be better.  You don’t have to buy that lie.  You don’t have to play that game.  You don’t have to follow that path.

You can just opt out and make your own fabulous path.  That’s what fat acceptance is about.  Opting out of that game, not being the direct opposite of it.