20 @ 26

Inaugural Link Up

To really kick this blog off in the right direction I want to break the first rule of fat ladies on the internet and post a full body picture of myself shamelessly. To give me a decent excuse to do this I am participating in The Nearsighted Owl's "I am proud of my size" Link Up. For her, it's number 17. For me, the first of many. Shall we get on with this? Yep.

Every girl's worst nightmare: an empty closet.

I go into a bit of a rant here so I'm putting this under a jump. 



Since this is only my second blog post I want to take a moment to explain my choice of blog title. I called it The Rebellious Body because that's what I'm living with and my attitude is towards. This doesn't only apply to my weight, but that is a big part of it. I'll go into that later.

I live with psoriasis that attacks my hands and feet as well as occasional bouts of alopecia or balding which presents in either severe thinning or complete baldness of spots or sections of my scalp. These are both autoimmune diseases. For those who don't know, an autoimmune disease is, in the most basic of terms, when your body gets drunk, decides it doesn't like the way that cell is looking at it, and gets into a bar fight. What the body doesn't know is that it just punched it's brother. Basically my own body sees parts of it as foreign and attacks.

For me it's relatively minor, but it is unseemly to most people. Some folk, when the notice my psoriasis on my hands or ankle either ask me what happened like I walked in in a body cast or get this weird look on their face like they might get it too. I understand human curiosity and I understand the fear or disgust. I get it. That doesn't make it hurt any less every time I have to tell someone that I have a disease and have had since I can remember. I tell them that no they won't get it and yes it does itch like the dickens. When I get annoyed I tell them I got it rescuing triplets from a fire or that they should see the other guy. Mostly I just get tired. I wear tights and avoid showing my hands. I part my hair to the other side or wear large headbands. I try to hide it. This is exhausting. 

I realize that many people do the exact same thing, except for them it isn't for a disease, it's because they're fat. We wear unassuming, non-revealing  or baggy clothing. We try to take up as little space as possible. We are constantly aware of our bodies. We don't want to sit because people will judge us for being lazy. We don't want people to see us sweating. We think that if we pretend we're furniture, people won't notice that our body size is different than theirs or they just won't notice us at all. That's how I grew up. 

I don't think that way anymore. It's taken a long, long time and the realization that I deserved the space I took up and the air I had to suck up into my fat fat fatty lungs came at a really awkward time. My parents joined Weight Watchers and have lost 110 lbs between them as of last week. When they first joined, it was... uncomfortable. When we got together for a dinner or some kind of outing, if we happened to see another fat person it swiftly became one I hope I never get to be like that comment after another. Aren't they disgusting? Aren't they sad? They must be miserable. I'm so glad I'm changing.

I'm so sad eating this delicious burger right now. How can I go on?

I got so angry. I've always fought with my dad. That's just our relationship. This was right up my alley. I raged against him. I didn't know why but his disdain for a fellow fatty made me madder than I had ever been. I shook with it. I told them that I was happy that they were doing something that made them healthier because I love them and want to see them live as long as possible. I told them that I also thought they looked great the way they were and that it made me incredibly sad to know that they didn't agree. I told them that what they say about other fat people hurts me personally as I too am fat. I had never expressed this before. Afterwards I thought I had lost it and was so angry because I was falling into my old I'm super angsty with my parents routine. 

I even joined Weight Watchers myself and lost 15 lbs. It was terrible. I counted calories and points and measured portions. I exercised every day. I was sore and hungry, but I was determined that I would lose weight. Then I started hanging out with my first body positive fat friend. I won't call her my first body positive friend. I don't know how many of my friends are body positive. They never spoke to me about it. She did though. She is fat, happy, and proud. She introduced me to fat acceptance and body positive blogs. I haven't looked back. My parents still make me angry and sad, but I'm learning to live with it. They're happy and that's what really matters. I love them no matter what they look like. I can only hope they feel the same way about me. 

Me on the right as we all pose as "accidental pin up" girls. 

I have a bit more to say about this, but will save it for a later post. I don't want to blow my whole blogging load at once do I?

Thanks for sticking around and reading. If it was TL and you DR, then take this away: I am fat; I am sick; I am not hiding anymore.

Lara