“Being OK” isn’t a celebration. “Being OK” isn’t a guarantee that you’ll never feel the pain again. “Being OK” is summed up in six words: that happened a long time ago.
This has changed you. It is always going to be something that has changed you, for the rest of your life. It will pop up in ways that surprise you. There will be days when the pain is back. If you have post-traumatic stress, you are not going to have an easy time of this. You are going to have to walk through more than most to get to “OK,” and you may have to keep walking back to it, over and over. But you are not alone, and help exists, and “the rest of your life” is hopefully going to be a very long time. One day, all of this will have happened a long time ago. That’s what I can tell you, about being OK.
This is absolutely my favouritest picture of myself.
I am not trying to be sexy or seductive or give you something to wank off to.
I just finally accept my body and I am in love♡with myself, and that is a GREAT feeling♡
"Allow me to ask you this: Are you going to let your value as a human decrease because of a businessman who is no longer alive? Are you going to base your decisions on how you live your life on a profit scheme? Are you going to hate yourself for not living up to a standard that does not exist? Lord, help us all. Ladies. Let’s not torture ourselves any longer. Let’s not miss out on a life that can be full of joy, beauty, happiness, and fulfillment because of a historical construct. You deserve better than that; I deserve better than that. We all deserve to live in a world where these lies are exposed, old myths are debunked, and all conspiracies are unraveled. A world full of truth and acceptance. We have one life. One body. This is all we have. So live that life! Love that body! And be the best you that you can possibly be. This is all we have. And it is enough. You, my dear, you are enough."
It’s a cruel irony that people in rural Iowa can be malnourished amid forests of cornstalks running to the horizon. Iowa dirt is some of the richest in the nation, even bringing out the poet in agronomists, who describe it as “black gold.” In 2007 Iowa’s fields produced roughly one-sixth of all corn and soybeans grown in the U.S., churning out billions of bushels.
These are the very crops that end up on Christina Dreier’s kitchen table in the form of hot dogs made of corn-raised beef, Mountain Dew sweetened with corn syrup, and chicken nuggets fried in soybean oil. They’re also the foods that the U.S. government supports the most. In 2012 it spent roughly $11 billion to subsidize and insure commodity crops like corn and soy, with Iowa among the states receiving the highest subsidies. The government spends much less to bolster the production of the fruits and vegetables its own nutrition guidelines say should make up half the food on our plates. In 2011 it spent only $1.6 billion to subsidize and insure “specialty crops”—the bureaucratic term for fruits and vegetables.
Those priorities are reflected at the grocery store, where the price of fresh food has risen steadily while the cost of sugary treats like soda has dropped. Since the early 1980s the real cost of fruits and vegetables has increased by 24 percent. Meanwhile the cost of nonalcoholic beverages—primarily sodas, most sweetened with corn syrup—has dropped by 27 percent.
“We’ve created a system that’s geared toward keeping overall food prices low but does little to support healthy, high-quality food,” says global food expert Raj Patel. “The problem can’t be fixed by merely telling people to eat their fruits and vegetables, because at heart this is a problem about wages, about poverty.”
"To me, my clothes feel like armor. They form an outward shell that tells anyone who wants to that they can’t fuck with me. They help me leave the house on mornings when the outside world seems unbearable. They’re my best self-care mechanism. They help me hold myself together when someone shouts at me, instead of hurting for days like I used to. They help insults bounce off my surface, instead of hitting deeper than I’d like. The way I dress is an expression of both who I am and who I want to be. Dressing offers me a space to explore identities and play with facets of myself. It makes my body visible in spaces where I’m often forced to hide it. It allows me to have fun with my body in a way that I never could whilst conforming to an endless set of fashion rules.
Fashion is often held up as frivolous, conformist, unnecessary, and capitalist-engaged, within both fat-positive and feminist circles, scholarship, and activisms. While I don’t deny that it can be some or all of those things, for me it’s also been a survival strategy and the most important way of negotiating my relationship with my body. It’s so much more than looking good or bad or fitting into dominant or subcultural aesthetics; it’s become a radical political mechanism that resists the daily oppression I face and reclaims the body that I have always been told is not my own.
To you, it might just be an outfit, but to me it’s performance, play, care, support, resistance, survival, and fighting"
On Dressing Up: A Story of Fatshion Resistance by Kirsty Fife in Hot & Heavy: Fierce Fat Girls on Life, Love, & Fashion (edited by Virgie Tovar)
(Source: fattyunbound.blogspot.com, via glitterfuk)