I am Venus

As anyone who has followed this blog knows, I started as a comedian telling jokes in a corset between tease numbers. I fell in love with the people involved and the whole idea of burlesque. The glitter, beauty, and acceptance I found in this community changed my life. Ever since I was a child I dreamed of singing on stage, but I never felt like I could. Performing stand up with Green Mountain Cabaret changed all that. Once I made it know that I wanted to sing, I was encouraged to audition for a variety spot to mix it up.

I never went back to stand up. I was in love with dressing up and spinning a spell of melody over the audience. The rush I received from that trumped even the most cacophonous laughter I ever received telling jokes. For about a year and a half I performed when I was booked building my confidence and slowly warming to baring my life dream on stage for all to see. Then realized I gained back half the weight I had lost and was feeling awful. My body disgusted me. I hated my clothes. I felt like an elephant lumbering through my life. Oddly enough, my response to this was to change what I was doing for our “Feels Like the First Time” show. It was my first time performing in months and I wanted to come back with a hit. I hated the idea of doing “Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend”, the first number I ever sang, so I tossed the idea and opted to go for a different first.

I got on the stage in February in my new red wrap dress, terrified of what I was about to do, but determined to see it through. Each line got me closer and closer to the musical break until finally, it arrived. I stepped away from the microphone and reached for my bow. Gripping it tightly, I began to pull and as it unraveled the audience lost their minds. It was like they all realized at the same moment what was happening. I couldn't hear a thing as I removed my dress and tried to remember the very basic choreography I had planned. The screaming pushed me to my limit and I belted the bridge as I removed my bra the way I had seen the girls do so many times on this very stage. 

The song ended and I walked off the stage as quickly as I could without looking like I was running away. I heard nothing, I saw nothing. All I could think was, “Where the hell is my dress??” I don't remember the rest of the show. Suddenly we were done with our group shot at the photo booth and we were being sent off to mingle. The steady stream of fans, former troupe members, and friends were a blur. I remember comments about waiting three years to see me do that and how the number was amazing and then I got naked and it was even BETTER! The rest of the night is still hazy to me, but I had done it. I bared the body I had despised for most of my life to an entire audience and they loved every second of it. They treated it like this gift I had given them.

During a conversation about burlesque with a visiting performer over wine, cheese, and pizza we discussed what made us consider dancing. I confessed what drove me and he responded by telling me I was a goddess. I blushed and mumbled something resembling thanks and he said, “No really, you have the body of a goddess.” He brought up the photo of a sculpture of Venus that was found in Austria dating back to between 28,000 and 25,000 BCE. He was right, she looked just like me. I did research and smiled as I read different details on the piece. My favorite was how they mentioned it's purpose may have been “for ecstatic-state fertility rituals or even as a masturbation aid”.

Venus von Willendorf

I am Venus.

The Roman goddess of love...

Of beauty...

Of sex...

Of fertility...

Of prosperity...

Of victory...

Of desire, enticement, and seduction.

She is named after the Latin noun VENUS meaning “sexual love / desire”. I should never hate the body I have, especially if there is occasionally more of it to worship.

I am Venus.

Style Icon - Callista Rugo of Superlesque

 

Guest Blogger #1 for "Absolutely Me" Month - Callista Rugo

Jen has been asking me to collaborate with Love Your Bits for quite some time now.  Over at Superlesque, I'm writing weekly on my adventures as a burlesque dancer, retro lifestyle maker, and crafter so I have always loved the idea of teaming up with such a positive blog.

Then a few weeks ago, she sent me a request to write something for "Absolutely Me" Month, naming me a local fashion icon.  I was really flattered and honored to be invited to write for Love Your Bits with my 50s housewife meets hipster flair.

I have a list of questions to answer in no particular order:

How do you describe your style?
For the most part, I go for 1950s housewife but on my off days I have a tendency to go hipster or modern chic.  My wardrobe is mostly dresses and skirts with some functional jeans and t-shirts.  Every day is occasion to dress up, except for my No Make Up Tuesdays (because Tuesdays suck).

Where you find most of your pieces?
The bulk of my pieces I make myself.  I grew up doing medieval recreation and learned how to sew and costume construction about 15 years ago and have kept it up ever since.  I get my fabric at JoAnn's but my current obsession is getting bed sheets at thrift stores like Goodwill and making dresses out of them.  It's economical and good for the environment!  I also have a pile of dresses that are 80s-tastic sitting at home, awaiting repurposing.

The pieces I buy are typically standard pieces like leggings, camisoles, and cardigans that you can pick up pretty much anywhere.  I love the cropped cardigans from Old Navy and the price for leggings and camisoles are excellent at Walmart.

Specialty pieces are few and far between.  Since I have a much narrower waist than my bust, I have a hard time finding clothing that fits.  I have a series of dresses from Charlotte Russe that are a bit retro and great with a pair of jeggings.  However, my current favorite obsession is eShakti.com.  I have had to stop going there and looking at dresses or I would be forever poor.  This company makes a ton of retro-style dresses that are wash and wear up to size 36(!!!).  If that's not enough for you, for about $10, they will custom fit the dress to your measurements.  They also have sales going on almost all the time so it's worth a peek.

My make up is a motley crew of drugstore finds and Sephora buys and I have to admit, my favorite items are ones that I spent more on.  They stay the longest and have the cleanest look.


Who or what inspires your looks?
I am constantly inspired by the 1940s and 50s.  With my narrow waist and ample hips and bosom, modern boho chic or street wear don't exactly flatter my figure.  My ideal silhouette is the Dior New Look hourglass with fitted tops and big, voluminous skirts.  Lately I'm getting more into 1940s fashion, World War II, etc.  I grew up with the classic musicals and movies of the 40s and 50s so those were always my fashion icons as a kid.

 

With my adventures in burlesque, naturally the pinup comes up.  AND I LOVE IT and consider it a big inspiration in my style.
 

What responses do you receive in society when people see you out and about & how do you handle it (be it positive or negative)?
The overwhelming response to my outfits has been positive.  My Callista dress and its sisters have gotten me many a shout out in the mall or walking down darkened streets.  I have actually been stopped a couple of times by strangers to compliment me.  When you think of how many people ignore each other in public, I call that a massive achievement.

The only time I have ever negatively been impacted by my clothing decisions is from a house down the street from me, but the people who live there are a little off so I don't take it too much to heart.


Any tips?
1)  You don't have to go to a repro site like ModCloth in order to find retro finds.  I have a swallow sweater that I got from Hot Topic (and I love it).  I have a pair of retro white shoes that I got at Famous Footwear, not to mention my heels from Payless.  Keep an eye out and you'll find great vintage-inspired designs.

2) Buy only clothes that you like and want to wear.  Staples are always going to be necessary and relevant to your style so an extra tank top or pair of jeans will likely not go amiss.  But that shirt that you think you *might* be able to pull off?  Let it go.

Here's a perfect example:

I used to go to Tee Fury every day and see what shirts they had.  And I loved it.  I bought my Asgardian Absinthe and Invader Flakes shirts and reveled in my possession of them.  Every day I was looking at t-shirts and every once in a while buying them on a whim. 

And then I stopped and thought about it. 

I don't *actually* wear t-shirts.  Most days I'm in a dress or a skirt and, though that women's cut Doctor Who t-shirt is gorgeous, I'm not going to wear it.  Maybe you shouldn't be tempted to buy it and just stop going to the website.

Then I funneled my money into Goodwill and get a lot more for my $12.

3) LEARN TO SEW.  This is a skill that will get you far if you want unique pieces, even if you don't want to go retro like me.  If you want something unique, figure out how to make it and do so.  You will always have something no one else has if you made it.  Once you learn how to sew, the possibilities are endless.  I made my niece a dress for her fourth birthday and told her she was the only girl in the world to have this dress.  According to her mother, it's always in the wash because she's always wearing it.  If something you make becoming a prized possession isn't enough for you, I can't convince you to sew any more.

Why do you do what you do?
Because I like it.  I dress up for no one but myself.  This is a style that for years I had mentioned that I wanted to do either in passing or in serious conversation with friends and family.  I finally sat down and decided to do it and couldn't be happier.  My style brings me joy and recognition and it truly feels like a reflection of my inside brought out.  I am only met with smiles so if one girl dressing timelessly is my price to pay for a sunnier Burlington, I'm okay with making that sacrifice.

Absolutely Me!

I just realized that I haven’t posted in over 4 months.  I am a terrible blogger….  L  To be fair, I’ve been trying to bounce back from a bit of a personal setback.

For those of you who are new, here’s a brief recap:  A few years ago, I lost about 100 pounds.  Last summer, I met a boy.  He was compassionate, affectionate, intelligent, funny, and a huge snuggler.  When the winter came, instead of going to Zumba or doing my physical therapy exercises, I chose to stay curled up on the couch with him eating take out and watching Chuck or Dr Who.  To be clear, I don’t regret this decision.  He and I celebrated our one year anniversary earlier in the month and I’ve never been happier.  The issue is the physical ramifications of those decisions.

I regained 30 pounds that I had lost and I was distraught.  I felt like I had lost ground.  I felt big and puffy.  And I felt exceptionally emotional 2 weeks out of the month.  While 30 pounds is not that much for someone my size, it was enough to push me into the bracket of affecting my medications.  I don’t know how many of you know this, but birth control is designed for women only up to a maximum of 250lbs.  Once you exceed that, the effectiveness drops significantly.  So now I was feeling huge AND my pms was out of control AND my periods made me feel like I was bleeding to death from my uterus.  I spent half the month crying in my guy’s arms as he held and tried to console me.  The other half I spent dreading that half of the month and wondering what I should do.

I found myself reverting back to the clothing of my self-conscious high school self: oversized men’s t-shirts and jeans.  Anything that hid the weight I had put back on.  Finally, I grew fed up.  Just because I had gained weight did not mean I had become some undesirable, hideous mass.  Every night my guy still snuggled up to me and ran his hands all over me.  Every day he told me how beautiful he thinks I am.  He didn’t even notice the weight gain, so why should I?

That being said, it does need to be reversed for health reasons and I’m working on it.  My trying to lose weight is not the point of this post though; it’s about me trying to find myself again.  One trick I learned was that sometimes style can make all the difference.  Joining a burlesque family has helped me start to discover my own personal style over the last two years and I had started to lose that.  Enlisting my roomie Savvy, I grabbed my drawer of men’s t-shirts and a pair of scissors, determined to undo what I had done.  Upending the drawer, I tried on each shirt as she snipped and shaped and stylized each and every one.  Shredding the back.  Making it a boat neck.  Hacking off the sleeves.  No two were exactly the same.  That hour and a half was enough to jumpstart my style again.  I splurged on a bunch of maxi skirts in nearly every color I found.  I bought myself a few new pieces of makeup.  I got a haircut for the first time since I dyed it in January.

No, I don’t immerse myself in my personal style every day; I don’t have that kind of dedication first thing in the morning before work.  However, when the circus themed show came around I dug out my corset, tutu, and accessories and dolled up with the best of them.  It’s been a while since I felt so me.

I love funny screen printed shirts and flowing skirts.  Pretty dresses and complimentary jewelry that shines.  My purple and blue hair that's holding on strong 6 months later.  The boobs that bust from the top of my corsets.  Lipstick lining my sarcastic and sausy smile.  Brightly colored eyeshadow that makes my blue eyes sparkle.  Glitter and shimmer and comfy pants.  My funky sunglasses.  My tattoos and the ones I plan to add someday.  I don't fit into a category or have a spectacularly identifiable style, but it's mine.

In the spirit of this feeling, I declare it "Absolutely Me" Month on the Love Your Bits page.  I will be posting pieces from some local Vermont style sensations (IMO) each week talking about what they can’t live without, why they choose to look the way they do, and how they handle the response to that look.  Feel free to submit your own photos and stories on the Facebook page.  Let’s inspire others to feel "Absolutely Me".

A New Reflection

I am no different from any other person.  Running this page and blog does not mean that I don’t struggle with self-love and body image.  If anything, I run this page to help me battle the negativity I sometimes feel toward myself.  Often, when I share something it is because it is what I need to hear at the moment in time.  I do have one advantage over some people though…I have an amazing support system.

I’m in a happy and healthy romantic relationship.  Every time he kisses my nose or holds my hand he undoes a little more damage from my past.  His nickname for me is “Beautiful” and my heart flutters every time he says it because he means it.  He thinks I’m smart and funny and motivated and snuggly.  He says he hearts me.  When I cry he kisses away my tears and tells me there is nothing wrong with me or the way I feel.  He talks me down when my depression kicks in and holds me until I start to feel better.  He cuddles me in his sleep.  He makes me feel perfect in my imperfection.  I genuinely feel beautiful when he looks at me, which says a lot.

 

I have a roommate I’m particularly close to who can tell by the look in my eyes when I’m not ok.  She’ll bake me a chocolate cake when I have a stress filled craving and will eat it with me right out of the baking dish.  She does my makeup and goes out of her way to make me feel like a rock star.  I practice stage looks with her and she is always willing to lend me the perfect accessory to make it complete.  We will curl up on the couch together and watch movies or go shopping or go out to dinner.  She takes care of me when I can’t always do it myself.  She helps me keep my sanity.

 

My parents watch my standup whenever a new video is posted, even when the content is questionable.  My mom looked at some of my shoot photos and couldn’t stop telling me how great I looked.  They send me Gertrude Hawks bunnies for Easter since they don’t sell it up here and will take me out for Rita’s Italian Ice when I go home to visit since I love it.  My dad makes me meatballs when I go home since I never perfected them and will order me good pizza every time I’m home.  (Food is big with us, we’re Italian.)  They support me unconditionally.  The love they show me is incredible and I feel lucky every day for the kind of relationship I have with them. 

 

I have a best friend who sees potential in me that I can’t wrap my head around some days.  She’ll run her fingers through my hair to soothe a headache when I’ve had a particularly bad day.  She has no problem with telling me like it is and knows when to pull back and coddle me a little if I need it.  I can go to her when I feel out of control and she helps me slow down and get a grip.  She would never allow me to do anything that made me look bad in any way.  When we discussed using Photoshop to clean up my photo shoot pictures, she understood when I said I didn’t want my body changed in any way because it would defeat the purpose.  Her goal with editing is to show me how others see me.

 

I’m realizing for me, that is the perfect goal.  See myself how those who love me see me.  In my case, it was others who caused me to break in the first place and I’ve been struggling to put myself back together…thankfully with the support of these wonderful people.  But completely accepting how they view me and feel for me is the real struggle.  So that’s my new “resolution”…my only one in fact.  I’ve been told I’m beautiful, smart, funny, driven, passionate, talented, etc…so I’m going to work on seeing that in myself instead of just taking the compliment.  The people in my life are my new mirror and I look forward to seeing my new reflection.

Hindsight is 20/20 - 2013

Since my 29^th birthday in September, life has been good.  I went on anti-depression medication and feel like myself for the first time in a long time.  I’ve taken Soul Fire’s Intro to Burlesque Class twice and did fairly well if I do say so myself.  I met a fantastic guy who makes me feel pretty, happy, special, and important (plus he’s as big a cuddler as me!).  I sang on stage for the first time ever and loved it.  I’ve auditioned to be a co-host for the Green Mountain Cabaret.  I got my first tattoo.  I learned how to do Zombie make-up and helped out with the Zombie Run.  I made an appointment to have my hair dyed crazy colors as I’ve always secretly wanted.  I did a boudoir photo shoot to confront my body issues head on.  I started a body positive page on Facebook to have an outlet for my passion.

 Birthday dinner at The Guild with Christy

 

A reminder that life is beautiful, even if it feels otherwise.

 

I might look glam, but I'm still a geeky goof.  :)

 

 

Basically, I’ve been pretty damn busy.  29 has been significantly better to me than 28 was, and my goal is to keep it going.  While the first half of the year was personally the roughest I’ve had in a long time, I’m still proud of what I accomplished.  Time to revisit 2013’s resolutions and see how I did.

-          Write more jokes

o   I took a level two standup class over the summer and came up with what I believe is a solid 10 minute set.  I was also able to edit and clean up some of my older sets, so I’d consider this one successful.

  

 -          Get back into voice lessons

o   Unfortunately this one did not happen this year.  Schedules and financing did not allow it.

 -          Vocal Audition for the Green Mountain Cabaret

o   Done and conquered!  I sang on stage for the Halloween show and got rave reviews.  That could not have felt better.  I’d love to do it more often next year (hint hint GMnC ;-) ).

-          Take a dance class

o   Done, twice!  Yay burlesque!  ;-)

-          Be more brave at the Improv drop-in classes

o   This one didn’t happen much because I realized it really wasn’t an interest of mine so I’m ok with this one falling through the cracks.

-          Follow-through and visit friends in other states

o   I made it to Ithaca, NY to visit one of my best friends for a few days.  I plan on going to see her in 2 months in NYC as well.

-          Let my hair grow out (you’re welcome, Christy)

o   This one has its limits, but I was good and didn’t hack my hair this year.  So win!

-          Write down good things that happen and put them in a jar, read them on NYE 2013

o   Definitely did NOT do this one since I was in such a bad place.  Though the good things that have happened lately are so fresh in my mind I think it’s not that much of a failure.

-          Buy and rock a pinup dress

o   A friend of mine made me one…though there was an incident I will not speak of and it never saw the sun.

-          LEARN GERMAN!!!

o   Yup…still a slacker…

-          Get back into trying new recipes and writing for the food blog at least once a month

o   Also still lacking.  Sad face.  But my new guy likes me cooking so hopefully that’ll help motivate me!

 

Pre-shoot Jitters and Struggling with my Demons

My photo shoot is three days away.  I just got done posting in my private event that I wasn’t even nervous, just excited.  Then the voices kicked in.

 

I should only do pictures from the front so no one can see my back fat.

I hope Christy gets Photoshop from JVL because my skin is awful right now.

Maybe I should skip the thongs, I have no butt.

What if I freeze and look like I’m being forced to get naked and pose?

What if I overcompensate by drinking too much champagne and end up red faced and sloppy?

What if….what if….imperfect….flawed….why am I doing this?

It’s times like this that I turn to one of my best friends and ask for help.  I need her to help squash the voices and the doubt and the fear.  She’s fiercely protective of me, even from me when I need it.  After eleven years, she knows how to talk me down and to make me feel safe.

I will make you look amazing.  It won’t be that hard because I’ve got an amazing, beautiful model to work with.  There are angles we can do and lighting effects and alcohol and music.  And I’m fun!  I’ll have you relaxed in no time.

She reminds me that it’s natural to feel imperfect.  That the goal of these pictures is to look those demons in the face and tell them to go fuck themselves.  That I AM sexy and camera worthy.  This is for me.  I’ll have 3 women there with me who will do everything in their power to love me, support me, calm me, and make me look on film the way they see me.

 

Yes, there will be a little Photoshop to fix slight imperfections (blemishes, random flyaway hairs), but my body will stay my own.  There will be no elongating or lifting or deleting.  I don’t need it.  My body is mine and it is perfect the way it is.

Now I just need to remember that in three days…

Healthy Doesn't Always Feel Sexy

Guest Blogger: Christy, Vermont

 

At the age of 20 I was diagnosed with Ulcerative Colitis. For those of you who don’t know, ulcers coat the large intestine causing extreme pain if certain foods are ingested.  For me it was red meat, fried food, caffeine, chocolate, dairy, and fresh fruits and vegetables. I was basically eating fish and baby food. Even on the heaviest dosages of the meds given to those with this chronic disease, I was getting worse. My doctor told me that I was the worst case of this particular disease that he had seen in the tri-state area. I decided to seek other help.

I met with a surgeon who examined me and, in so many words, told me that it was either surgery or a slow, painful death in a few years. Not surprisingly I opted for surgery. There were other avenues, like shots from now until eternity but upon hearing the odds (1 in 3 the liver would fail, and then you’d still need the surgery PLUS have a failed liver) I decided surgery was my best option.

A couple weeks before my surgery I was so sick I couldn’t keep water down. I remember lying on my bed and staring at my scar-free stomach to try burn that image into my memory. Ten plus years after my surgery, I realize it didn’t work.

I never had a six pack or the best abs in the world but my stomach was relatively flat. Now I’m super conscience because a) there’s a huge 12 inch long scar running down the center of my stomach making my belly button slightly off center and b) I’ve got a weird bump and divot along the lower part of my stomach. I find myself pulling at my shirts to make sure that they aren’t tight allowing the imperfections to be seen. I wear pants that can hide the area but are low and loose enough to not hurt my stomach.  Gone are the days of two piece bathing suits.

A scar on any part of the body whether it’s from surgery, a car accident, or some other traumatic event, can cause a person psychological backlash. Having someone (whether it’s a loved one, a friend, a doctor, or a stranger) touch that scar or the area around it can trigger a fight or flight response. Anger, grief, and other strong emotions can quickly come to the surface as you back away quickly from the perceived “offender”.  There is continued healing long after the scar has healed.

It’s been 12 years since my surgery, and I think about my stomach and how it looks almost every day. I still flinch if my husband touches it while putting his arms around me. I’ve learned though over the years that without this scar and this part of me that can make me feel slightly less beautiful at my worst moments, that I wouldn’t be here. It’s the one part of my body that I’ll never be able to “fix” with diet and exercise. I’ve come to terms with this and remind myself that this scar on my imperfect stomach is beautiful because I’m still alive.

How I Learned to Love my Body

Here's the thing, it's impossible to properly take care of your body if you don't love it first and for a very long time I resented my body. I resented my excessively large chest that never fit into pretty bras and tops. I resented my wide and flat ass that never filled out a pair of jeans properly. I resented my round and copious stomach that always got in the way. I resented my too full lips that practically split my face when I smiled. I resented my arm flab that ruined tank tops for me.

I tried eating right. I tried unhealthy diets. I tried working out far to much and eating far too little. Losing weight was always a struggle. I did these things because I felt like I had to. Because I wanted to ensure that others would never look at my body in disgust as I did. That if anyone ever saw me naked, they wouldn't have to make an excuse to leave so they didn't have to go through with being with me. I grew angry with friends who tried to pick me up, terrified that they would realize just how heavy I really was or worse...that they'd hurt themselves. I only hugged those who I knew loved me enough that they would ignore my soft, squishy body as they embraced me.

As I've said many times before, I've worked hard to change this view of myself. With the aid of therapy and good friends I've made huge strides in learning to forgive my body for the imperfections society, media, and lazy doctors have told me it has. I went from resentment, to forgiveness and tolerance, and somewhere down the road I discovered love and acceptance.

To be blunt, sex is what helped me love my body. (Now is the time to run if you don't want to know more...)

I am by no means saying I need to have sex to feel good about myself or that any woman with self esteem issues should run out and jump on the first guy who gives her the eye. I waited a very long time before taking that step. Through college there were guys who expressed interest, but they were the kind of guys I knew I'd regret giving myself to. The smarmy ones with girlfriends back home who thought my self esteem was low enough that I'd find it complimentary that they'd cheat with me. The drunk guy at the bar who just wants to get laid. The jerk who's never been with a big girl and wants to try it out. I never felt flattered by these attentions. I felt dirty and unattractive. After a while I hit a point where I genuinely believed no one decent would ever want me and that there was a very good chance I would end up alone and untouched. Despite this devastating belief, I never wanted to compromise my standards or morals. While I was raised Catholic, I never really subscribed to the “no sex before marriage” ruling. I was more of a “I need to be able to trust you completely before revealing my body to you” mentality.

Shortly after I turned 28, I met someone. He was funny, confident, understanding, and made it abundantly clear that he found me incredibly sexy. I had no idea what to do with that information. I actually found the idea of someone finding me sexy laughable. No joke...I straight up laughed when he said this. So we started seeing one another; for the first time in my life I was thinking about having sex with someone. He was bold and aggressive with me. His hands went wherever he wanted and I let him. I liked it. I loved the way he would pull me into his arms and against his tall frame. I loved that he would put his hands on my hips or grab my ass as I walked by. Sitting on the couch, he would frequently give me what I affectionately called ninja kisses, suddenly turning toward me and capturing my mouth with his. I realized that I had power. There was an attractive man that I wanted and I made him lose control. Something about me made him want to touch me and capture me...and I loved it.

Every time our physical relationship went a little farther I learned something new about myself. It was fascinating to learn how my body could fit with someone else. How it would react to certain touches. The way it moved. I learned to like how parts of my body moved and shook in the heat of the moment. I started to like how I have places for a man to grab on to and that I'm soft enough for him to enjoy pressing into me. My chest went from excessive, to ample and soft. My ass is not flat, it is grab-able and fun to watch as I walked away. The skin on my stomach is smooth and touchably soft to run hands over. My full lips form playful smiles and are amazing to kiss. My arms are strong enough to hold me where he wants me or to keep him close. I discovered my power and love of my body. I could reduce a man to lust and need all along, I just never found anyone who deserved it. It opened up a whole world of discoveries of who I was and what I could be / do. I could be the nice girl you bring home to mom...and then push up against a wall the second you made it home. I could be an evil tease. I could make you lose control. I could leave you breathless. I could bring a smile to your face just by walking into a room. No man would settle for me...he would never need to. I realized I had the ability to be everything to someone.

But in the meantime, I don't hate my body when a dress doesn't fit right...the cut just doesn't work for my shape. If jeans are too small, I just grab another size. If I find a pretty bra that fits me, I buy 5 of them. I buy lingerie and wear it to bed even though I sleep alone because it makes me feel sexy. I dress up for me...and I wear jeans and a t-shirt for me too.

Now, I want to change my body for the right reasons. I want to eat better and exercise more because I know it will make me healthier and will make my body feel better. I don't care if I lose a few inches off my waist or if the number on the scale is smaller. My goal is more energy. A better quality of life. Treating my body more like the temple I know it is. And finding someone worthy enough to worship it. ;-)

"You have a very pretty face, but..."

“...you might want to wear a long scarf to distract from your stomach. The color's great though."

This is what a woman shopping at the store I was in thought was okay to say to me when I asked her opinion on a shirt I was trying on. She then proceeded to tell me how Zumba helped her get healthier, but I might need to do some core toning too to tighten up a bit.

When I went to the doctor for my strep throat, I brought up the sleeping issues I've been having for the last few months. Instead of listening to me at all she just looked me up and down and said, “It's probably because of your weight.” Because of that it took another 2 months of not sleeping and crying at the drop of a hat for my next doctor to diagnose me with depression.

First of all...do not point out that I'm overweight. Newsflash, I NOTICED! This is not knowledge I didn't already possess so you've done me no favors to point it out. Lady, I just need a fun top for a show tonight. As for you, Doc Lazy, my sleep issues started recently and I'm smaller than I used to be...do your job.

Second of all, I've been doing Zumba for 3 or 4 years now quite regularly. I have a 2 minute joke about it in my set.  On top of that I also swim, do physical therapy, and do toning exercises when I can. I haven't been as consistent as I would like since my surgery last year, but I do it and I've maintained my weight loss. Don't make assumptions on my lifestyle based on the way I look to you.

Lastly, while I did invite their attention on me by asking their opinion, when did it become alright to speak to someone like that? Whether you know them or not, there is nothing acceptable about those exchanges. Body shaming is wrong, no matter who you are or who you are speaking to. Their body is none of your concern. Mind your own business and move along. And as a doctor, do some work. Don't assume one thing is caused by something that obvious. Put in a little effort.

I'm a big girl. I have been for most of my life. A large percentage of that is my body type while the rest is definitely psychological. As I dealt with my buried issues, a good chunk of weight just disappeared...just from going to therapy and cleaning the skeletons from my closet. With some lifestyle shifts (very small ones, old habits die hard) I was able to loose 100 pounds over the course of a few years. Despite the three digit loss, I'm still a big girl! Even if I lost another 100 pounds, I'm still going to be tall, broad, and soft. And you know what that means? It means I will always be amazing to hug. It doesn't mean I don't take pride in my body or that I live a self destructive lifestyle. I'm not the healthiest person by any means. If I want to eat a burger, I order a burger...and I don't skip the fries. I'll eat less of them because I know I don't need to clear my plate, but I salt them and enjoy every fried bite. On the other hand, I will try to eat a bit healthier during the day so I don't feel like I'm going to die later. Having a gall bladder removed is fantastic motivation to be more aware of how much crap you put into you body.

NOMNOMNOMNOMNOM

I swim and I go for walks or dance like a stripper in my favorite Zumba class, but if I'm tired or have the chance to hang out with someone I love....I skip it. Because while I want to be a healthy me...I want to be a happy me more. If I'm having a bad day and I know I should go to the gym, but I need some lovin' from a good friend...THAT is my priority. Because health means nothing if it controls your life. And not to point fingers, but if you look at my lifestyle compared to that of some of my “acceptably sized” friends...I'm healthier than some of them. So drawing conclusions just by looking at me is unfair. You don't know me.

How is anyone is this society supposed to love themselves or take pride in the way they look when everything they see if constantly telling them they aren't good enough? How am I supposed to look in the mirror and tune out the voices from high school who tell me I'm grotesque because my arms jiggle when I lift them or because I can't touch my toes with my stomach in the way? How do you learn to love yourself BECAUSE of your body, not IN SPITE of your body when everything out there tells you that isn't right?

You fight back. You find people who love you for you and are blind to what society would consider flaws. Good people who compliment you because they just can't keep it to themselves that your eyes are stunning when you wear that blue shirt. People who sigh and hug you tighter because you're soft and snuggly and it feels amazing to them. Loving people, who tell you that you are beautiful in so many ways and deserve beauty in your life right when you need to hear it.

You do things that scare you. Like going onstage in a corset, lace stockings, and a tutu without worrying about your thighs or arm flab. You perform with a burlesque troupe who celebrates bodies as they are. All shapes and sizes and colors. You give yourself a moment to revel in the fact that, those catcalls are for you...because you are exactly what the people want to see. You are sexy and confident and completely able to knock their socks off. You absorb that positive energy and let it consume you because you're beautiful too and other people really will see that if they allow themselves to truly appreciate beauty. You remember that the loudest voices are not always the right ones nor are they the majority...they're just loud.

Screw you, I'm adorable!

And you ask for help. While it's true that you don't need the approval of others to feel good about yourself, in a world where people think it's okay to tell you to distract people from your stomach so they don't get sick to their own, it sure as fuck doesn't hurt to have people who will shamelessly love you to your face. Women who don't just pick out parts of your body they wish they had, but tell you that your Amazon woman build makes you fabulous and stunning. Co-workers who don't just tell you that you look nice today, but that you look EXTRA nice today. Men who don't find you attractive despite your curves, but ones who worship each and every one. Ones who see you naked on a bed exactly as you are and lose all self control.

The loudest voices are people who are insecure and desperate to make themselves heard. They stand on soap boxes, or behind podiums, or keyboards screaming their “truths” hoping to God someone validates them...making THEM feel worthy. Because that is all they know how to do. If you tear other people down far enough, you become the top by default right?

Wrong.

While there are some days that I look in the mirror and start seeing every single “flaw” mocking me and making me feel less than I am...I am still on top. Because those are just thoughts. They are not truths. My truths are this:

-I am worthy of love and admiration

-I am beautiful, even on days when I don't feel it or believe it

-I am loved by some incredible people who have excellent taste ;-)

-I am smart and funny – people care what I have to say and enjoy my company

-I am a good person who loves with everything she has

-I am strong, no one has the power to take any of this from me unless I give it to them

So stop the shame and hate...of others AND of yourself. It doesn't matter if you're a size 0 or an 8 or a 32. There is no war between “skinny bitches” and “real women”! Yes, some days I wish I could fit into a size 6 because that gorgeous dress isn't made an 18, but some days size 6 girls wish they had my 40Js or my shade of blonde hair. It doesn't matter.

I am who I am and there's no one else I'd rather be.