No Dancing

Body Acceptance Y’all

http://thedailyhavis.blogspot.com/2011/10/guest-post-alison-stevenson-takes-over.html

^original site, thanks Fembot!

Guest post: Alison Stevenson takes over Fembot with “Big Girl”

Finally, someone took up our generous offer to write for us! You should read and click and maybe go to one of Alison Stevenson’s stand up performances. 

Big Girl

Being an overweight girl is hard. For me I find it most challenging because I don’t mind having the extra pudge. No, really, it’s not that big of a deal to me. I’d like to think that I’ve learned to dress myself appropriately, and still manage to find clothes that make me feel comfortable, sexy, cute, or what have you. I’m an outgoing gal who still considers myself beautiful regardless of the gut. Is that so wrong? I don’t think so, but there is one person in my life that is very adamant about changing my perspective on me. Her name is Mom.           

My mom is a fucking bitch. I mean don’t get me wrong - I love the bitch, but when it comes to matters of my weight I just can’t stand her. She does that sneaky phrasing where she’ll compliment me and insult me at the same time. It’s a very mom thing to do. It goes something like this:          

  “Alison, you have such a pretty face. Really, you do.”

  “Oh thanks mom!”           

 “Now if only you’d lose twenty-five pounds then you’d be beautiful!”           

What the? Are you for real? It’s moments like these that make me wish I could morph into an angry cartoon character, have steam come out my ears, bounce all over the walls, yell profanities, self-combust, then quickly regain composure and walk away like nothing happened. But no, instead I just bounce all over the walls and scream profanities.           

In all honesty though, it’s hard to explain to my mom that the things she says are more damaging than helpful. I get where she’s coming from but the woman just can not comprehend that I already feel attractive. Real talk, regardless of my weight I’m a cocky motherfucker. Seriously, I got the self-confidence of Charlie Sheen and don’t need the cocaine addiction to prove it. Instead of obsessing over my negatives I think about my positives and find that bringing those things out make me an overall more attractive person. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t always like this. A lot of my college years were spent obsessing over how other people might see me. I would get extremely self-conscious and worry if people were noticing my “bigness”. When men approached me I would assume it was because they had no one else to talk to, or they were trying to go through me to get to my “hotter” friend. Now I look back to all these instances and realize I was being one lame ass bitch. I was quick to dismiss potential suitors, or let’s face it it was college so more like potential hook up buddies, and it was all my fault. Purely because I was self-degrading.           

I guess that saying is true. You know, the one about us being hardest on ourselves. I was such a bitch to me back then. I wish the now me could go back in time and give college me a fucking wake up call. Just be like, “Alison, stop obsessing over this shit! You’re fine!” It would also be cool to go back so I could warn college me that watching A Bugs Life does not count as studying for that entomology final I am going to fail.            

How did I come to realize this on my own? I really don’t know. I guess it’s sort of linked to dating. I’ve moved to a bigger city where I meet more people who tell me they don’t mind a girl that’s bigger than average and I have finally come around to believing them. I guess growing older has done that whole “maturity” thing where it’s much more obvious that there are those who do care  about personality and it’s really not some hokey bullshit Lifetime movies try to sell you. I’ve come to learn to ignore the “mom” comments, and if crap like this happens to you then I recommend you do the same.If your weight is damaging to your health that’s one thing, but if you’re like me and are an overall pretty healthy person then don’t stress about it.  When it comes down to it, I’d rather just stay like this. I prefer to spend my free time reading new comic books rather than pumping iron at the gym. Is that so bad?            

Society, especially the media, has done a good job of defining beautiful as something only thin girls can be. Our job as bigger girls is not to try our best to conform to this, but rather to gracefully wave our middle fingers at those media fucks, and work to broaden the spectrum on our own. Society as a whole has turned “thin” and “fat” into enemies. Two rival gangs that can never get along. It’s all very West Side Story, but with less singing (except for when I sing “I feel pretty” to myself in the shower). If you’re truly satisfied, then stay the way you are and don’t let outside pressures tell you you’re wrong. Easier said than done I know, but instilling this mentality is a good first step in confronting those people who just don’t see it yet.Believe me, I am the last girl you’ll find at a support group. I tend to despise those people who encourage all of us to hold hands, want to sing kumbaya, then talk about their feelings expecting your shoulder to be available for crying on. However, I see how their position is sometimes necessary. As corny as it may sound, and as tired as the phrase may be, big really is beautiful and I guess it’s one of those things that keeps having to be said until society starts genuinely accepting it.