femme writes- body image

 

On the 5th of every month, bloggers from around the world are open to write about rights and issues concerning women. First started by Shine and Marie, we’re hoping to bring a variety of women’s issues to the forefront to make people aware of what’s going on. For the month of July, we’ve chosen to write about Body Image. Please join us in telling us your stories, thoughts, and ideas on a monthly basis. To read previous installments, click here.

i am a fat girl. i’m the chubby bunny. the soft and huggable mama. the blind date with the “great personality” (you know what i’m talking about). i shop from the plus size rack. i’m the girl that gets the looks when i buy snacks or orders desert. i’m 5’8”, 215 pounds, a size 18, AND I LOVE MY BODY.

so suck it hollywood.

i know that i should hate myself and starve myself or want to dance my ass off or be the biggest loser. but i don’t. i love me the way i am. sure there are days when i feel like a whale or hate my clothes or detest what i see in the mirror- i challenge you to show me one person anywhere on this planet who has never had a day like that. i hate that because i’m not a single digit size trying to get to nearly invisible, for some reason society thinks i’m not okay for anything besides spandex and scales and diet commercials. every day when i open up my facebook page or any other web browser all the side banners and top banners are weight loss adds, or get skinny quick schemes, or how to lose those 10 pounds over night. i never realized how specific i was targeted until a guy friend used my laptop one day and had to log off as me and log on as himself- 100% different advertisements, and he even commented about how many stupid ones were on my page as a female. welcome to the femme world.

sure it’s changing a little out there- shows like drop dead diva and more to love are popping up but ARE YOU KIDDING ME? more to love was one of the MOST mocked reality dating shows of all time, and the whole premise of drop dead diva is that it took a skinny girl to show her how to love her naturally beautiful self. writers like jennifer weiner have oh so blessedly (sarcasm anyone?) started writing about “real sized women” but if you’ve ever read any of her trash novels that are only worthy to be fireplace fuel, you’d recognize a reoccurring theme: the women are only happy AFTER they’ve lost weight and completely changed themselves. only then do they find that they’re worth while people and finally find someone to love them. BULLSHIT.

BULL.FUCKING.SHIT.

what about a book with a real size woman that has someone who loves her just the way she is without losing weight or changing herself? what about a dating show with real size women that isn’t a complete farce. a show that isn’t the main fodder for the soup (i love you joel mchale, but REALLY?) or any of the other fat hating reviewers? what about a show with real size women that DOESN’T involve spandex and a scale and either dancing our asses off or being a biggest (completely unhealthy) loser? oh wait...i forgot...the wardrobe departments can’t handle it. the hollywood stick figures wouldn’t know what to do with a whole cast of confident full figured woman (opposed to the one or two that they keep around for statistic sake).

but i digress. this is about _MY_ body image:

i am fat. i am imperfect. i have bad hair days. i have bad thigh days. i have bad skin days. i have bad everything days. most of my jeans create a muffin top because that’s the way i’m shaped. i have bingo arms. i have chubby calves. my thighs rub together when i walk and wearing corduroy is a fire hazard in the summer time. i only wear a one-piece swim suit, and only then with something over it because i know there are parts of me that should not be exposed to the general public. i have scars, wrinkles, dimples in places that normally don’t have dimples. the gals at the pedicure shop laugh at my “precious moments toes” every time i go in and always comment about how i basically have no pinky toe nail to paint. i have tattoos, blue hair, at one point my nose was pierced, and i have multiple piercings in ear. i have a belt that i wore in high school that BARELY fits around one of my thighs now. the only way i could fit into my old cheer uniform (yes, i was a cheerleader at one point) is if i stapled it onto a shirt and THEN wore it.

know what else?

i have BEAUTIFUL eyes. i have amazing curves. i look damn fine in a good pencil skirt and some 4” heels. i have learned over the years how to take care of myself and i clean up DAMN GOOD. i have found a beautiful hair style that works for my face shape and gets plenty of compliments. i have learned to dress my body type so that i look good in whatever i choose to wear (even on the days i feel fat). i have arms strong enough to pick up my kids when they’re hurt. i have curves squishy enough to be comforting to them when they’re sick. i have a healthy, strong body that lets me go to work every day and take care of my spawns every night.

I AM BEAUTIFUL JUST THE WAY I AM.

would i like to lose a little weight? sure. will the world end if i don’t? hell no it wont. do i wish i had better skin and perfect hair and always manicured nails? ummm...of course! does it ruin my life that those don’t happen? not a bit.

i wasn’t raised to like myself. it’s something i’ve worked DAMN hard for over the years. by the time i went to college i had learned to love myself. then i let someone take that away for a while. and i’ve worked twice as hard to get that back again. and i will NEVER let someone take that away from me again. there are still days when i watch tv or go clothes shopping or look at the beautful women i am blessed to know and have shadows of doubt: “what would it be like to...” you know how it goes. it’s natural. we compare, it’s what women do. but you know what else we need to do? we need to realize that for every time we compare ourselves to someone, SOMEONE IS COMPARING HERSELF TO US. did you get that? for every person you think is better than you? someone thinks the same about you! i’m not really sure that’s the point i’m trying to make- the whole comparing to others REALLY needs to stop, but it won’t, and at least realize that others are doing it about you too!

i want to say it again: I AM BEAUTIFUL JUST THE WAY I AM. i am imperfect. i have room for improvement. and I LOVE ME.

Femme Writes: Women in the Work Place

On the 5th of every month, bloggers from around the world are open to write about rights and issues concerning women. First started by Shine and Marie, we’re hoping to bring a variety of women’s issues to the forefront to make people aware of what’s going on. For the month of June, we’ve chosen to write about Women in the Workplace. Please join us in telling us your stories, thoughts, and ideas on a monthly basis. To read previous installments, click here.

ok kids. so the name of the game today is: Women in the Workplace. i happen to be a woman, and i happen to be fortunate enough to be one of those increasingly rare people with a workplace. so. this is my take on it.

i have been at my job for ten year. TEN YEARS people. and i’m not even 30 yet…for a few more months. yes i  keep mentioning it. ITS THIRTY PEOPLE. anywho…i’ve been around a WHILE. there’s so many different tangents i want to pop off on…i could write four or five VERY DIFFERENT blogs on this topic…maybe i’ll come back to it again soon. today though, i want to throw out there how LUCKY our generation of women are when it comes to workplaces. when we sit back and look at it…no matter how much we hate our jobs some days or complain about boy’s clubs, or think that some places are so backwards the basic fact is that women are allowed in the workplace now. and (for the most part) respected in the work place.

different conversations have come up around our office at different times, and it wasn’t so long ago that the workplace was VERY different for women. the gals here are just in their 60’s and they talk about what it was like when they started working…holy crap…i wouldn’t have lasted a day kids. i would have been kicked out, tried as a witch, and banished to my kitchen, barefoot and pregnant for all time. which wouldn’t have been great since i can barely handle my two kids, and SUCK at most betty crocker attempts. a formal dinner party? you mean something where paper plates aren’t allowed? I’M OUT.

but you listen to these gals talk…DAMN GALS. we’re lucky.

maybe a month ago, one of our female engineers left on maternity leave. (FEMALE engineer...catch that? HELLZ YES). maternity leave- doesn’t sound like a big deal. i went on maternity leave 7 years ago for my small spawn and didn’t think twice about it. OF COURSE i would go on maternity leave. OF COURSE i would come back to work after my set number of weeks. what’s there to think about? well, the little engineer that could went out on leave and the rest of us started talking about when we had our kids and what the company was like at the time. turns out it was only back in the 70’s in my company when the first woman (and she was fairly high up in the company) was allowed out on maternity leave as we know it. in other words she left FULLY INTENDING TO COME BACK. not just to go home, pop out babies, and be a house wife forever thereafter. the 70’s kids. that isn’t so long ago. and she was a trailblazer for coming back to work. BIG FUCKING DEAL back then. now days it’s just…whatever. of course i’ll leave and come back. thirty years ago. that’s it. thirty years ago and my whole career would have been different.

hell- thirty years ago and i wouldn’t have even HAD a career- single 19 year old mom- i would have been locked away “back east visiting relatives.” yikes.

but much more has changed besides maternity leave- 30 years ago there is no way in hell i would have been allowed into my office the way i dress. you see, it’s friday (i’m writing early because a saturday post? are you kidding?). friday = casual day. hell- most days are casual day for me. probably more days than should be. today i’m in jeans (nice, clean jeans), a nice cotton shirt, and chuck taylors. JEANS. SNEAKERS. at the corporate office. thirty years ago casual day didn’t exist. if you worked in an office it was SKIRT, blouse, hose, and heels. EVERY. DAY.(and don't forget your slip. only trashy girls wear a skirt without a slip!)  i would have gone insane. i HAVE several cute skirts. i HAVE my share of gorgeous heels. but EVERY. SINGLE. DAY? i'm not opposed to being all business, but the fact is i sit at a desk on the third floor, well away from any customers or even people outside out department. does wearing a skirt affect my ability answer the phone and type a letter? thinking: not so much. but thirty years ago it wouldn't have mattered. SKIRTS. PERIOD. and i know some offices are still that way- bigger cities, legal offices, more professional offices where people are greeting/working with the customers all the time. i'm spoiled, i know that. several gals have talked about when they started working and it WAS the pencil skirts and suits. not even slacks- pants were for men. and now...so different.

and i know these things seems stupid. they seems small. and that's the way it should be. that's the way the women before us have made it. MAD PROPS GALS. thanks for making my career livable! and I KNOW I KNOW I KNOW there is so much room for improvement. i know that pay is NOT equal. i know that women are still being passed over for jobs due to the ever enduring "good ol boys club." i know that there's still sexual harrasment. i could talk about a boss that told me "it would be better if i stuck to office work. it's better for women" or how he accused me of trying to blackmail him and whore my way to the top for daring to speak up when he was doing illegal and unethical things. i KNOW there's still bullshit. i know that every day i go to work and there's high school graduates making twice what i make with a bachelors degree because they're in "boy jobs" (linemen, warehouse workers, heavy equipment operators). but STILL. looking at where we've been, and looking at where we are...HUGE strides have been made, and now it's up to us to keep pushing and make even bigger strides for the next generation. i HOPE that one day girls can look back and say "what's the big deal" about some of the things we're fighting for now in the workplace. i hope that one day they can have their choice of jobs, equal pay, equal treatment WITHOUT QUESTION. but for now, i'm going to enjoy sitting in my jeans, speaking my mind, and even HAVING a job.

Femme Writes: Reproduction

About Women's Writes:
When the Criminal Homicide and Abortion Amendments bill passed in Utah at the beginning of March, both Shine and Marie reached the end of their rope when it came to women’s rights and issues consistently being pushed backwards rather than moving forwards. They decided to create Women's Writes, the fifth day of every month in which any blogger could write about women’s rights and issues and bring them to the forefront so that we could speak up and make all of our voices heard.

On the 5th of every month, bloggers from around the world are open to write about rights and issues concerning women. First started by Shine and Marie, we’re hoping to bring a variety of women’s issues to the forefront to make people aware of what’s going on. For the month of May, we’ve chosen to write about Women’s Reproductive Rights and Issues. Please join us in telling us your stories, thoughts, and ideas on a monthly basis.

ok kids. serious topic here: women’s rights: they’re being trampled. they’re being adjudicated. they’re being controlled by everyone else BUT THE WOMAN.

holy crap- i’ve written and deleted 5 different openings to this blog. i know what i want to say. i know what my opinions are, i just can’t make them come out right today. i’m trying to be all professional and smart…i guess i just need to be me…so here it goes:

reproduction:

i got knocked up at 17. first time out of the gate. BAM. october 5, 1997. yeah…i know the EXACT date. not really something you forget. i, obviously, was not the sharpest crayon in the box. i didn’t know about sex and birth control back then, and i didn’t know who to ask. add in the 17 year old thinking: “it’ll never happen to me” and 9 months later you have me popping out a 9 pound 11 ounce spawn. NICE. see, i was raised in a SMALL town. small as in 7000 people. small as in when my brother got an MIP in high school my parents knew about it less than 5 minutes later cause they ran into the cop at the gas station. and, as it usually happens in small towns, it was (still is) a VERY religious town. i grew up in church. and i grew up with a very strict mom. you did NOT talk about things in our house. anything. when i got my first visit from aunt flo i left a note on my mom’s pillow because it just wasn’t something you talked about. it wasn’t questioned that when it was “sex talk” time in school i automatically went to the abstinence classes. no way did i need to hear “that filth” about sex ed. sex was never discussed. birth control was never discussed. to make things SO MUCH BETTER, my mom worked at the local health clinic so i couldn’t even sneak in an appointment to talk to someone else about it. and then i go and get knocked up…ironic? or just lack of education? i think both…even better? NOT EVEN KIDDING: after i got knocked up…i STILL had to take the abstinence class that spring at school. that’s right…EIGHT MONTHS PREGNANT in the abstinence class. you can’t make that shit up. q.u.a.l.i.t.y. i swear to heaven my mum is half ostrich with her ability to stick her head so far and so resolutely in the sand.

~sigh~ EDUCATE YOUNG WOMEN. that’s my first issue with women’s rights. before you can discuss abortion, before you can discuss parenting, you have to be able to talk about HOW it happens in the first place. parents: you’re not doing your kids favors by keeping information from them. hell, my kids and i are ALREADY having sex talks at my house. i DO NOT want them to go through what i have. and i’d rather them hear it THE RIGHT WAY from me than from some kid with half ass knowledge in the locker room at school. puberty: covered it. birth control: covered it. stds/aids: covered it. and my oldest one is 11. is it too early? i don’t think so. the school he’s in goes up to 6^th grade…and you KNOW those kids are already talking about it (and some doing it! YIKES).

EDUCATE. please. for the love of all that’s good and right. EDUCATE. if these girls knew about birth control and their bodies and their personal rights, 90% of the abortion issue would go away. it wouldn’t be an issue any more. EDUCATE. TEACH. TALK. get over being embarrassed. it’s how we all got here. EDUCATE.

my case was lucky: i’m a fighter. i didn’t get knocked up and give up on life. i got knocked up in october, graduated high school that june, had my son in july, and started college that september. i got a job, got my own apartment, graduated with an AA degree, and then was offered a scholarship to attend a 4 year college. AND I DID IT. i worked through college doing classes/work during the day, doing the mom thing in the afternoons, papers late into the night, and repeat DAILY for two years. but i graduated with my BA degree. and you’re damn right i’m proud of that.

well, about the time i graduated college i was set up on a blind date. four months later i was married. three months later we were pregnant- on purpose this time. my son was 4, his son was 9…didn’t make sense to wait and have them too far apart. well…a few months after that, things started to fall apart. we were married in march, pregnant in june, and i moved out the first time that september. talk about a FAST TRACK in life. we ended up back together because i had already done the single mom thing with one kid and REALLY wanted to make it work “the right way” the second time around. well, by march when the baby was due it wasn’t going well…to say the least. and here’s where my second issue with women’s rights comes in: i KNEW things weren’t going well. at that point i KNEW i would be a single mom again, this time with two kids. so i asked my doctor to do a tubal ligation during the delivery. i did NOT want to pull the small town hat trick and end up at some point being the girl with three babies and three baby daddy’s. i was DONE. single mom with one was hard. i knew a single mom with two would be an even bigger challenge. three? NO THANK YOU. so, at 22 years old, with one spawn and one on the way, i asked to be done. no more please. hell…take it all out and donate it to someone else…obviously mine works fine…give it to someone that had hers removed or whose doesn’t work. FINE BY ME.

but…

not fine by the doctor. well, fine by MY doctor, but not fine by the state of washington medical board. see, my doctor was great. he understood. he had been through both pregnancies with me and he backed up my decision. turns out: he had to FIGHT for my decision. in the great state of washington, if you are under a certain age (26 WITH kids, 30 without i believe), you MUST have a board of doctors approve your decision to have a tubal ligation. yes. that’s right. i had to have a board of doctors approve my decision to NOT have any more children. i had to be approved to limit my reproductive abilities. i had to ask permission, from a board of people. a whole board. so my doctor went to the board and had to fight for permission for me. he had to explain that i already had two kids. he had to assure them that i was fully aware of that the decision meant. he had to battle with them to be allowed to perform the procedure on me. and this wasn’t on the state dime- this wasn’t some extraordinary medical procedure at the tax payers cost. i was working full time, my husband was working full time, we BOTH had full medical coverage. but still, my doctor had to battle with the board to have the procedure approved. and it was. and he did a good job. i warned him that if i had another kid after that HE was going to raise it…so he ended up doing TWO cuts in each side, just to make sure. thank heavens in that small town i DID have a great doctor that was willing to got to bat for me. here i am 7 years later and i DO NOT regret my decision at all. i DO regret that it was such an issue. i DO regret that it wasn’t a decision i could make on my own. maybe regret isn’t the right word there…pissed off? is that a better word? i am still PISSED OFF that it wasn’t a decision i could make on my own.

i didn’t realize at the time what a big issue it was…too many other things going on at that point for that to be a focus. but now, looking back…who the fuck did they think they were? making me ask permission?? FUCK THAT. it’s MY body. who were they to have rights over MY body? did they consider what would have happened if they HADN’T allowed the procedure? i shudder to think of that path: how do you tell your abusive (oh…did i forget to mention that part?) husband that you want to go on birth control or have him start wearing condoms? what would have happened if i had gotten knocked up by him again before i could get out of the situation? where would i be now if i had THREE kids to take care of? OH HELL NO. _I_ knew the factors. _I_ made my decision. who were they to second guess or make me argue my own experiences?

and now…with all the battles going on, with the abortion issue so present, with our own rights to our own bodies being controlled by courts and lawyers and opinionated doctors…you know…what’s next? they won’t tell these girls how NOT to get pregnant. they won’t tell these girls the options they have once they ARE pregnant. they make girls ask for permission to not get pregnant again- and not just a tubal…around here you still have to get a parents permission to get birth control even AFTER you’ve had a kid if you’re still under age (or at least i would have had to after the first one).

these are OUR bodies. these are OUR lives. WE have to live with the decisions. no one else. so why should anyone else be able to tell us what’s right for us? why should some senator or judge or doctor be able to tell ME what to do with the rest of my life? why should someone who reads about my case on paper or checks me in an exam room for 5 minutes think they know better than i do or can make a better decision than i could?

GIVE ME BACK _MY_ RIGHTS TO _MY_ body. or…you know what…if they want to make my decisions for me? FINE. but they also get to deal with my PMS, my mouthy kids, my empty checkbook, my single parent life, my lack of a social life, my depression, my EVERYTHING. you want it? you get it ALL. bastards. and NO, i won’t go get more tampons for you. no one gets them for me. STILL want the rights to my body? oh yeah…and you’re bloated this week and nothing fits…and aunt flo showed up a week and a half early with NO warning. deal with THAT.