So my last fat and sexy post was in September of last year and it was a shit show. I was having car trouble, knee trouble, and various other issues that I felt related to my problems with being fat and sexy. Fast forward to now and I’ve found out that I have arthritis in both knees that is probably only going to get worse so some of the physical activities I wanted to get involved in are probably either a straight up no go or not a good idea, no matter how much I might want to. Of course, I can also ask what physical activities because I’ve basically been a slug since February. But I’m trying to address that by getting back into yoga. Dear Gods, it is harder than I remember it being and I already knew it would be hard.
But what prompted me to write this post was something I read by the Formidable Femme herself, Sarah Brynn Holliday. Her post “When Do I Get to Celebrate My Fat Body?” took me back to all the times my ex disparaged my weight or otherwise made me feel self conscious about my body. It was so bad that I couldn’t stand to be naked around him or let him see my body. By the end of our relationship though I had lost weight and was finally “skinny enough” (as far I was and still am concerned I was still fat.) But it was too late at that point because I had decided it was over. Not him.
But no matter what size I was then or what size I am now, I still feel damaged and broken. My current partner assures me otherwise frequently, but when I can’t stand to see my own body reflected back at me in the mirror, when I try to eat less, when I try to be smaller because smaller is better, what does that say? It still tells me that I’m not worth the time or the effort, that I’m not good enough and that I’ll never be good enough. I fight this fight just as much as I fight to keep my bipolar disorder under control.
However, as much as I can relate to the post referenced above and how heartbreaking it is for me to see myself fight to be smaller and take up less space in a world where fat people aren’t given license to exist, I am also starting to relate to the idea that fat and sexy are not mutually exclusive of one another. My partner greets me with a kiss and “Hi Gorgeous.” on a regular basis. I’ve finally stopped cringing when they call me that. I don’t roll my eyes anymore, although I will still duck my head a bit, not because I’m ashamed, but because the (still unexpected) compliment embarrasses me a little because I don’t know how to gracefully accept a compliment of that caliber. I’ve never seen myself as striking or pretty or even cute so gorgeous is right out. But I hear it all the time. What do I do; how do I reconcile what I see in the mirror with what I’m told?
And the only answer I have is that I don’t know. So I try to just let it wash over me and be as accepting of it as I can instead of being ashamed of who I am and what I look like. I’m fat, even when I’m “skinny” I’m still fat, and I doubt I’ll ever be at my smallest size again. I mean come on, 2 pounds and 12.5 ounces is just unrealistic for someone my height! Yes, I just made that awful joke. In all seriousness though, I ask the question why can’t I be both fat and sexy? What is stopping me from being both? Is it just all in my head and a matter of confidence? Is the answer really that simple? It doesn’t seem like it is. But what do I know? I’ve never had the confidence to know what being both fat and sexy is. Maybe though, just maybe, I’m learning.
Ladies and Gentlemen, if you think there’s no such thing as sex bots you are sadly mistaken. They are quite expensive, but are slowly growing in popularity in various parts of the world. Some are even programmable to respond to certain stimuli or to have a base “personality” that can affect how they respond to that stimuli. To me, it is all a little strange because I’d much rather have sex with a living breathing person, but that’s just me. Sex robots could also be used as an educational tool to provide better and more comprehensive sexual education to children and adults alike.
There are plenty of legal and ethical questions surrounding sex dolls though, one of the biggest seeming to be the idea that pedophiles could get child size bots that allows them to act out their fantasy without hurting anyone. I offer a counterpoint to this that perhaps it could make them more likely to chase after a child they desire because they are now confident enough to do so with some “experience” under their belt so to speak. I worry the same thing about rapists or other sexual deviants. But maybe I’m wrong. I hope I’m wrong.
Another point to bring up is that of social isolation. Would people become so obsessed with their bots that interacting with the real world would no longer matter. Would the dating scene be demolished by the advent of such a thing? What about birth rates? Again it all boils down to what becomes the legal and ethical thing to do in these cases.
Maybe in fifty years people will find it perfectly normal to have a sex robot of any kind. But how will that affect things like marriage and population growth? Could it be that they will both decline as people create their perfect robot partner? Or perhaps people will marry after all and have threesomes with a robot. All of these things are, of course, hypothetical outcomes, as people may end up rejecting the idea of sex with robots as entirely repugnant.
But where does the law end and the ethical debate begin. There are people out there who would question the legality, mortally, and ethics of having a bot simply for sex. It might seem to be too much for one generation where they had to learn the technology as they went, but perfect for the next generation who grew up with the technology already in place around them. That doesn’t make it legal or right to have sex with a robot necessarily, especially as our knowledge of artificial intelligence grows and the possibility of bots becoming more aware (right out of some science fiction right there), but some AIs have already learned to communicate with one another in their own language so who is to say that these bots couldn’t be just as smart.
This could be out future and what that future means for humanity is yet to be determined. I have hope for future generations, though, that they will not isolate themselves in a world of robots and artificial intelligence, but use these things as an addition to regular everyday life while they continue to maintain a human social experience as well. If you’d like further information you can check out the article linked below.
Alright, since my last post I’ve done a few things. I got with my mom and she helped me plan out a three month exercise routine that lets me ramp up how much I’m in the gym and exercising. By September I should be exercising 5 days a week, either at the gym or on my skates. Right now, to think about that seems scary…and exhausting. I’m having trouble motivating myself to go three times a week right now. Anyone got any good tips for motivation? But I know if I want to reach my goals I gotta go.
Speaking of goals…I don’t really see the successes when they happen. I have to rely on other people to tell me if I’m losing weight or if I’ve gained muscle or even if my weight lifting is improving, despite the obvious advancement of the number of pounds I’m lifting. My brain lies to me on this front and it gets incredibly frustrating, but small goals completely go right over my head. I’m trying to learn how to keep that from happening, but how do I figure it out when my brain lies to me and tells me the opposite is happening? It is a mystery to me.
Anyway, my fat ass is trying. I have a goal tracker on my phone, I try to drink enough to stay hydrated (I’m terrible at it), and I’ve been monitoring my food portions as well as the amount of sugar and liquid calories that I consume. This means not eating all the chocolate in the house when I’m PMSing and not getting a giant iced coffee when I can get a small and putting less sugar in my coffee and iced tea. Now, that last bit about the sugar in my tea, that’s important y’all cause I grew up in the South and that is the land of BBQ and sweet tea, so that is a hard one to give up. My solution has just been more water, but it certainly isn’t the same.
I don’t know if I’m losing weight, my pants size hasn’t changed, and things feel very static, but my partner and my best friend both keep reminding me that change is a slow process and it is OK if it doesn’t happen overnight and there will be times I plateau out for periods of time. It’s frustrating. I’m not feeling any sexier or more attractive. In fact, I had a meltdown a few weeks ago because I think my stomach is gross and for a while I didn’t want my partner to see it or look at it or touch. It was really difficult for me on a lot of levels because I communicate so much through touch, but them touching me resulted in a couple of mini panic attacks. No fun and it is an issue I’m working my way through.
So I’ve made changes, I’m going to keep making them (hopefully they’ll continue to be good ones) and I’m working on moving forward with accepting my body, despite the setbacks I’ve had. If I’m perfectly honest with myself, one of my big goals is to drop two pants sizes within the next six to eight months and I feel like if I keep up with my routine and my portion control that I can do that. And if I can, that means I will be the smallest I’ve been in years and almost the smallest I was in high school. That I think I’ll be able to see and call progress. Here goes!
“Hello, Gorgeous.” I looked at my partner, then glanced around wondering if they were talking to me. As we were alone together, it seemed pretty obvious that I was the person being addressed. I just shook my head a little and gave them a hug. I absolutely couldn’t see why they were calling me gorgeous so I dismissed it and moved on.
Instead of being upset or annoyed with me for not acknowledging what they meant as a compliment, they have only kept repeating that same statement to me, sometimes multiple times a day or with slight variations for the last five years. Maybe eventually I’ll get it. I’ll get out of bed one morning and look in the mirror and see what my partner sees. Or there will be some crazy transcendental moment mid-orgasm. I don’t know.
I do know that I’ve never considered myself to even be cute, much less words like beautiful or gorgeous, both of which I am frequently called by my absolute favorite person in the world. Instead I look in the mirror and all I can see are the flaws that make me so human and imperfect and what I see isn’t good enough. It never has been for as long as I can remember. In a world where looks appear to be valued over everything else, I was raised to be the smart one. And it taught me that smart girls/women aren’t pretty. We’re awkward and maybe a little ugly on the outside, but beautiful on the inside (where it counts.) Being fat as well means I feel like I have that hurdle to jump as well, but I can’t jump; no really I broke a bone trying track once.
So here I am, over 30, overweight, and left staring at a reflection that I just don’t see as positive. Granted I no longer see myself as overwhelmingly negative and sometimes I don’t even see myself in a negative light at all. So I might be making tiny steps towards progress if you can call being neutral about one’s own image progress. But that neutrality often leaves me feeling a bit blind, because I don’t really look at myself in a mirror unless I am deliberately searching for whatever flaw I might have, either real or perceived. Often, I wonder what is wrong with me that I can be so conscious of my own appearance that I can’t just relax and see the good things about myself.
Of course, then I tell myself that there is nothing good about my appearance and I move on to something else that nags at me or my self esteem or whatever. I’ve just accepted that I’m never going to be the “pretty one”; instead I’m considered smart and that is supposed to be enough in a society where the female form is supposed to aspire to reach unattainable heights of beauty that I know I will never see. And my partner always comes back to “Hello, Gorgeous.”
If you missed last week’s Wicked Wednesday, you can find it here.
Crawling. A baby’s first method of movement towards the process of walking upright. Something done by young children who just don’t want to walk or are playing pretend. How is crawling sexy when that is all that comes to mind for me?
To be honest, its not. I’ve tried to understand. I’ve even tried to slink across the floor myself but I just looked silly and awkward. I lack the innate grace, it seems, for an adult to look good crawling. I also hate being on my hands and knees because I find it uncomfortable at best. At its worst it could be used as an actual form of punishment for me in my relationship (no one tell Sir that, OK.)
I can’t even pretend to understand this kink. I was going to write a story about it instead of sharing my ramblings, but I couldn’t get past the first few lines. Hell, I understand it so little even this pseudo rant is difficult for me to write. I feel like Bart Simpson here, “I will not write about crawling.” “I will not write about crawling.” But here I am, left wondering what I can say that would be of any use to any one who reads this.
Maybe the idea of watching your guy or girl crawl across the floor to you is really hot and it turns you on. Maybe you like to make your submissive crawl because it puts them further into that head space that they (and you) might want them to be in. Whatever the reason behind it; why it turns you on, can someone please explain it to me?
So when I wrote “Fat and Sexy” sometime ago I was really struggling with my own body acceptance and really not getting anywhere. Mirrors were my enemy and I was too much a fan of comfort food to lose any weight. When my weight ballooned and left me wearing a size 28 I knew that I had to do something. I was hurting too much to exercise and it was getting to the point where I got winded walking upstairs to my second story apartment. Diabetes and heart problems run in my family and I wanted to minimize the potential for having those in my life as well.
So I started with cutting out the snacking and comfort eating, followed that up with portion control, and slowly began to lose weight. It took a while because I wasn’t exercising, but I finally dropped a pants size and even losing that small amount of weight helped me see myself in a slightly different light. I still disliked the mirror, but it made seeing myself a little easier. And once I had my eating under control I started exercising. Slowly at first. I couldn’t keep up with the DVD I was using so I slowed it down to a more manageable pace. I started to incorporate body weight workouts. I even was going to the gym for a while, but I struggled with motivation in an unwelcoming atmosphere so that eventually kept me from going back.
Even so I lost more weight. Before the Christmas holidays hit I was down to a size 24, the smallest I’d been in several years. Now I’m back on my roller skates getting fit with a roller derby themed fitness class, plus getting back into a routine after having the holidays and having been sick for a couple of weeks. I’m making progress and while I don’t always see it, other people are noticing.
My relationship with the mirror is bordering on neutral. I’m starting to feel less shame and more acceptance for my body. I was weighed at the doctor’s office when I was sick and I’ve gone from close to 400 pounds to just under 300. That’s progress to me. So is putting my weight out on the internet for that matter. And here I am.
I’m not where I want to be; not even close. My eventual goal is to lose enough weight and be strong and fit enough that I can play competitive roller derby again. Not to mention becoming healthier, feeling more attractive, and generally learning to love myself no matter how big or small I am, no matter what the scale says, and no matter what society thinks. I’m fat, but I’m also gonna be sexy and happy.
I’m a little kinky, my partner isn’t at all. And we knew this going into our relationship. At first I was afraid to talk to my partner because I’ve been shamed in the past for my sexual desires, kinky or not. So that was the first hurdle to overcome. To help me out, my partner offered frequent reassurance that it was OK to talk to them and would often ask me if I wanted to talk about it in a very non-pressuring kind of way. Eventually I began to open up.
And we started talking about things like fisting, being tied up, being spanked, being called names and the like. The more I talked about it the easier it got. That’s not to say that it is easy, because even four and a half years in, I still find it somewhat difficult (yay for my deep seated issues!) and sometimes I clam up at the simple mention of what they can do for me to make our sex life better. But we work through it and we both talk about our wants and needs and fears, not just about our sex life, but about everything in our lives.
That makes us stronger together than we are apart. My partner knows what I want, I know what I can reasonably expect to happen based on our conversations and we go from there. Sometimes things don’t go perfectly, other times everything is beyond perfection. It is all about timing and keeping the lines open. We even talk during sex about what is going on and working, what could be better, and what I do or don’t want at any given moment in time. And that can change and 5 minutes later I can want something I have just said no to. That’s OK.
My regular readers know what a high value I place on communication in a relationship and the same holds true here. It took me sometimes to work through past issues and trauma, but once I got there and got to a point where I figured if my partner could see me naked then I could probably talk to them about anything I wanted to do or try when it comes to our sex life. I would beat around the bush cause I was nervous (who doesn’t sometimes?) and finally just come out with whatever was on my mind. I’ve never gotten a disgusted reaction, although I have gotten some let me think about replies and maybe I’ll get a hard no one of these days. It’ll be OK. As individuals we are both entitled to say no just like we are to say yes.
That yes/no dialogue often drives our discussions and will shape them into organic conversations that grown on their own, naturally, and gives us time to stop and pause before responding. And if the words don’t come out right we can always rewind things and try again. I think that last bit is really the secret to sharing what I want with my partner. Words aren’t set in stone but in fluid motion,