Tag Archive | body image


This was prompted by a lot of tangled feelings having to do with my own body and my mother. It was brought on by watching a clip from “What would you do” where they had actors fat shaming another actress… The reactions? Perfect. But…

Can I ask a serious question? Why do we feel that it’s ok to shame other people? I’m specifically speaking of fat shaming, and it enrages me.


Enragement. Dragon fire coming out my ears…

Here’s the thing. There’s no reason to make fun of someone because of their weight. All those words, those giggles? They aren’t cute. They aren’t funny.

You don’t know the damn story.

I grew up with a mother who looked pregnant. Every time someone said something, i wanted so desperately to go after them. She couldn’t win. “Oh, she’s eating a salad, but it won’t do any good.”  or “Damn, eat a salad!” I often wanted to punch people in the face. Strangers, making hurtful comments about a person they didn’t even know.

Turns out, she wasn’t “just” fat.

Turns out, when I went up 2 sizes, I wasn’t just getting fat either. I had what my mother had. A large tumor in my uterus. You wanna go there? I was so immune to people talking crap to me about my weight which I had maintained for 20 years… that when I went up, it didn’t phase me. I was just getting fatter and fatter. Two years ago, my father made me go get tested. Last year I had the surgery.

But that doesn’t matter. I didn’t know about that when I was growing up. What I knew?

I knew that some people were ass holes and no matter how much they hurt my mother, she would not let me go after them. I can remember walking down a parking lot aisle with Mom, Dad, and someone else (a friend? my brother?). We had gone to the mall to watch a movie and were on our way home. They thought they were funny.

I thought I’d turn around and plant my fist in a face. But it was my mother’s hand on my arm, her voice saying “please, don’t” that stopped me.(I never actually fought anyone outside my family– Mom wouldn’t let me)

Don’t be the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

Don’t be an asshole.

Quit shaming people over their bodies.

My Little Cantelope

Hello there. We’re gonna talk about girl parts today, so if you’re male or disinclined, you might want to tune out.

I kind of want to talk about the elephant in the room. Not with you guys, but with people whom I meet face to face.
I’m a little bit large. In fact, I look like I’m pregnant (and actually just got told that for the first time and yes, I cried.).

I have a cantelope sized tumor in my uterus. The uterus itself is distended (was distended at time of measurement, I should say). at what would be a 14-16 week pregnancy. I am not pregnant. I do not have cancer.

I have fibroids.

My mom had them, too. Hers were well over 20 pounds, but the main reason why they got so large was because not only did she not get checked regularly, but also that it doesn’t show up on the regular pap. You kind of have to know what the doctor needs to look for, sometimes.

See, I quit looking in a mirror a while back ago. I check my face, but NOTHING else. Because (just like Mom), I figured I was just fat. After I left my husband, I lost some weight, but then everything came back. And got bigger. My head was so twisted around because of what I had gone through, that instead of saying “Hey, I’ve been the same size for almost 15 years and nothing’s changed— maybe I should get checked out”,  I just bought bigger pants and quit looking at my body. The other symptoms, I figured were because of early onset menopause.


But it’s not only body image. It was fear. EVERYONE wanted to know why I was so terrified of fibroids. My mom died too young after having hers removed. Because she’d waited too long. Her body had been ravaged by carrying around this extra weight: diabetes, congestive heart failure, arthritis.

I don’t care about my body image any more. I just want my energy back. I want to play with my son on a regular basis. I want to be there for my son.

SO. Here’s the thing, girls. It’s time to go get your Pap. Time to go get your bobbies photo’d, if you haven’t lately. Because this isn’t just *our* lives we’re playing with. It’s our family’s , too.

If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for them.

I was 24 when I lost my mom. She was 65.

Save the girl parts. Go take care of them. Don’t put it off, don’t be scared. No matter what, we’ll get through it.

We’re women. God didn’t choose us to be the life givers cuz we’re cute. It’s because we’re tough.

Ok. You can wait till the doctor’s office is open.

Personally, I’m hoping my little cantelope will be delivered in February.

In the meantime, I’ll keep writing, and reading, and talking and being me. Just like you will still be you.