Beautiful Fat Ass Babes-loving ourselves exactly the way we are!
White Girl With a Fat Ass
I wanted to share with you guys a recent B-FAB inspired post from my blog White Girl With a Fat Ass.
Phelpierrific, Diamond Disappointment, and Why My FA Keeps Me Safe:
Since writing WGWaFA, something has continuously surprised me about myself. The notion that I actually feel more comfortable with the extra weight as a means of protection from men. Both as a shield from their sexual advances, and as something to blame when I am rejected. This is a feeling that I was utterly shocked to discover that many women share.
I am grateful to and in awe of the courage of the women who related their experiences with using their weight as protection both on the blog, Margarita Shapes Up and on the B-FAB Society. I recently became part of the Beautiful Fat Ass Babes social network started by Janette Barber and Laura Banks, the authors of Embracing Your Big Fat Ass. B-FAB's mission is to "turn our negative obsession with our asses into a celebration!" Might not be too hard to see why I eagerly became a member...
Reading about how other women used their weight to shield them from men and life itself really impacted me. Without the hoopla of Former Phat Fcuk and the monthly weigh-ins live on stage, I have reached a transitional time. With all that I have achieved with Bare Ass 2008! the last thing I want to do is slow down fundraising momentum or gain the weight back. Because let's face it that has happened before. There is such an improved difference in my health, I know that this journey is more involved than just how my ass looks.
This weekend I am sure I was not the only one to cheer out loud when Michael Phelps won his record setting Gold Medals. I do wonder if I was the only one to burst into tears. Watching Phelps win the butterfly race was a stunning moment that I will never forget. But it was more than that. A competitive swimmer in high school, I'll never forget how I felt the first time I perfectly coordinated my backstroke strokes with the color of the blue and white lane ropes turning solid red. Executing a perfect flip turn (which was brand new to my league at the time and I was one of the first backstroke swimmers to do it) it was electricity when my feet hit the wall. I gracefully and powerfully pushed off and like a sling-shotted perfectly straight arrow jetted my way onto victory.
Out of the water, I always felt like an awkward whale in an ugly one piece team suit. In the water, I was strong and possessed a grace that seemed forever out of reach on land. So when one of the male members on my swim team began touching me inappropriately under the water, it permanently fractured the only sense of grace I had ever known.
The events spiraled and the details are irrelevant now. In the end, I never stood up for myself. Never having dated, or kissed by a boy, somehow this troglodyte managed to convince me I should be grateful for whatever attention I was receiving. But I was mostly afraid. I quit the team and to this day the chlorine smell of an indoor pool makes me sick to my stomach.
I had forgotten the joy. Until this weekend. Until Michael Phelps. And so my once puppy crush has grown to adoration and complete awe of the power of the human spirit.
This weekend in an attempt to open myself up to the idea of dating again, I accepted a blind date of sorts. Again the details are irrelevant now. The real reason I was uber excited for this sort of date was that it was to go see Neil Diamond at Madison Square Garden. What girl could be so lucky as to get to see Neil Diamond twice in one week! Apparently not this girl, because I got pre-dumped before the event. With a curt email stating his roommate had reclaimed the extra ticket. After that it might be another 9 months before I try going on a date again...
Being that we never even met, I can't blame my FA for this turn of bad luck. No matter what the weight, it's not going to keep me from getting rejected or make it any easier. And I don't want to spend one more minute denying the B-FAB within! And let's be honest there is no way I could have had a better time at Neil Diamond than I did with Ephemerist on Tuesday night! I was too 'So Good! So Good!' greedy for my own good.
Besides the tears, there was also a lot of cheese consumption this weekend. Here is my 'end of a Full House episode' moral for this story:
There is nothing wrong with experiencing the joy that is a finely aged cheese, instead it is when you replace your joy with cheese that the troglodytes of this world have won.
Keep in mind that I am still not quite out of the easier said than done stage.
Congratulations to Michael Phelps and all of the U.S. athletes
Phelpierrific, Diamond Disappointment, and Why My FA Keeps Me Safe:
Since writing WGWaFA, something has continuously surprised me about myself. The notion that I actually feel more comfortable with the extra weight as a means of protection from men. Both as a shield from their sexual advances, and as something to blame when I am rejected. This is a feeling that I was utterly shocked to discover that many women share.
I am grateful to and in awe of the courage of the women who related their experiences with using their weight as protection both on the blog, Margarita Shapes Up and on the B-FAB Society. I recently became part of the Beautiful Fat Ass Babes social network started by Janette Barber and Laura Banks, the authors of Embracing Your Big Fat Ass. B-FAB's mission is to "turn our negative obsession with our asses into a celebration!" Might not be too hard to see why I eagerly became a member...
Reading about how other women used their weight to shield them from men and life itself really impacted me. Without the hoopla of Former Phat Fcuk and the monthly weigh-ins live on stage, I have reached a transitional time. With all that I have achieved with Bare Ass 2008! the last thing I want to do is slow down fundraising momentum or gain the weight back. Because let's face it that has happened before. There is such an improved difference in my health, I know that this journey is more involved than just how my ass looks.
This weekend I am sure I was not the only one to cheer out loud when Michael Phelps won his record setting Gold Medals. I do wonder if I was the only one to burst into tears. Watching Phelps win the butterfly race was a stunning moment that I will never forget. But it was more than that. A competitive swimmer in high school, I'll never forget how I felt the first time I perfectly coordinated my backstroke strokes with the color of the blue and white lane ropes turning solid red. Executing a perfect flip turn (which was brand new to my league at the time and I was one of the first backstroke swimmers to do it) it was electricity when my feet hit the wall. I gracefully and powerfully pushed off and like a sling-shotted perfectly straight arrow jetted my way onto victory.
Out of the water, I always felt like an awkward whale in an ugly one piece team suit. In the water, I was strong and possessed a grace that seemed forever out of reach on land. So when one of the male members on my swim team began touching me inappropriately under the water, it permanently fractured the only sense of grace I had ever known.
The events spiraled and the details are irrelevant now. In the end, I never stood up for myself. Never having dated, or kissed by a boy, somehow this troglodyte managed to convince me I should be grateful for whatever attention I was receiving. But I was mostly afraid. I quit the team and to this day the chlorine smell of an indoor pool makes me sick to my stomach.
I had forgotten the joy. Until this weekend. Until Michael Phelps. And so my once puppy crush has grown to adoration and complete awe of the power of the human spirit.
This weekend in an attempt to open myself up to the idea of dating again, I accepted a blind date of sorts. Again the details are irrelevant now. The real reason I was uber excited for this sort of date was that it was to go see Neil Diamond at Madison Square Garden. What girl could be so lucky as to get to see Neil Diamond twice in one week! Apparently not this girl, because I got pre-dumped before the event. With a curt email stating his roommate had reclaimed the extra ticket. After that it might be another 9 months before I try going on a date again...
Being that we never even met, I can't blame my FA for this turn of bad luck. No matter what the weight, it's not going to keep me from getting rejected or make it any easier. And I don't want to spend one more minute denying the B-FAB within! And let's be honest there is no way I could have had a better time at Neil Diamond than I did with Ephemerist on Tuesday night! I was too 'So Good! So Good!' greedy for my own good.
Besides the tears, there was also a lot of cheese consumption this weekend. Here is my 'end of a Full House episode' moral for this story:
There is nothing wrong with experiencing the joy that is a finely aged cheese, instead it is when you replace your joy with cheese that the troglodytes of this world have won.
Keep in mind that I am still not quite out of the easier said than done stage.
Congratulations to Michael Phelps and all of the U.S. athletes
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