Showing posts tagged rant

Rant: It’s my effin’ body and I’ll be as fat or skinny as I like.

These photos were taken yesterday (Sunday, October 21, 2012) after lunch/dinner.  I decided to take advantage of the full length mirror in the restroom.  My biggest issue is that despite my 50+ lbs weight loss, I still feel like I shouldn’t show off my accomplishments.  This is something I really need to grow up and get over, and that is why I’m posting them.  I also wanted to take this opportunity to say something because I’ve been getting a disturbing amount of comments “in real life” about what I should and shouldn’t do with my body.

No, I’m not skinny, and I may never be.  I’m more than alright with that, because all I want is to feel good, and to be healthy.  That’s it!  I don’t want to fit anyone’s ideal but my own.  This isn’t to say I’m not appreciative of people who think I’m beautiful.  It’s just that I’m too old to give a shit as to what people think I should or shouldn’t do with the body that I alone live in. 

If it isn’t people telling you that you have to lose weight, it’s people who want you to stay the same, or to fit their ideals.  “Don’t lose your boobs.”  “Don’t lose that ass.”  “Keep some meat on ya.”  “Don’t give up when you’re ‘average’ size.”  Shut up!  There’s always been a lot of that - the media, religion, politics.  All my life, some entity has always barked orders as to what I should and shouldn’t do with my body.  Pardon my language, but fuck ‘em all.  For real.  If I want to become a bobble-headed stick figure, then I will.  If I want to remain chubby, then I will.  If I want to get breast reduction, I will.  If you aren’t married to/sleeping with me, it’s not your concern.  Even then the choice is ultimately MINE.

Anyway, I’m showing off my accomplishments with full awareness that I still have work to do until I’m at my goal.  But, despite the road ahead, I’m happy with where I am at the moment and proud of all I’ve done so far.  You don’t like it?  Don’t agree?  That’s so not my problem, but I wish you the best.  I really do.  Now close the page, and move on.  And, to those that have supported me during this transition, you have all my love and gratitude.  Thank you so much.

For my before photo, click here.

I’ve Just Gotta Laugh… And Soak

I lose some weight, get a hair cut, get my mani/pedi done regularly, stop hiding behind my hair and my hoody, and my husband gets hit on.  Right in front of me, mind you.  On days when I’m feeling like shit and just down on myself, I like to have a mini-spa night.  So, I’m going to:

  • Run a bath.  Drop a Sex Bomb into the water.
  • Apply some Cupcake Fresh Face Mask.
  • Pumice my feet to keep ‘em smooth.
  • Use my Each Peach massage bar on my achy legs.
  • Meditate on all the things I’m grateful for - including my flirt-worthy husband.
  • Drink some jasmine tea and read a book.
  • Think about all the things I’ve accomplished - the most recent being completing the Couch to 5K program earlier this morning.

I haven’t even started and I feel better.  Time to go make this all a reality.

Rant: Thin Privilege & “Healthcare”

After reading this post on This is Thin Privilege, I just had to rant.

thisisthinprivilege:

Thin privilege means going to any doctor you want and actually being treated for whatever ailment you came in with.

When you go in for lower abdominal pain and they’re talking about removing your gallbladder, that’s bullshit.

Thin privilege means getting a wellness check-up where your doctor does not immediately start questioning a borderline high blood pressure, and is willing to excuse it as “white coat” jitters. Thin privilege is not having “white coat” jitters.

I actually DO suffer from white coat hypertension.  Ironically, it’s because I’m just waiting to be judge and it stresses me the fuck out!  But of course, because I’m fat, I must be a hypertensive pig with a heart that’s ready to explode and arteries clogged to hell with fat.  And then people wonder why I HATE doctors.

Thin person, you are blessed enough to be able to go to any doctor in this country and not have the first question out of your chosen medical professional’s mouth be about your weight and what you’re doing about it. You don’t have to fear LONG, epic conversations on what you do eat, what you don’t eat, how much you exercise, what kind of exercise you’re doing, what you’ve tried, what you haven’t tried, and your complete lack of willpower. You don’t get to listen to your doctor drone on about how your weight caused/contributed to/is more important than the medical complaint you came in with.

Now, now, let’s not be hasty.  Underweight people DO hear this kind of nonsense from medical “professionals.”  I know the post isn’t about being underweight, but it’s an issue as well.  Personally, I think just shaming the body’s sin enough to address without focusing on being fat.

You will never have a doctor assume that something with “congenital”, “early onset”, or “juvenile” in the name (congenital liver disease, early onset dementia, juvenile diabetes) happened because you are currently fat.

I can’t tell how much this one pisses me off.  But, I LOVE it when doctors feel like assholes after reading my great blood work results.  The look of contempt on her face is delicious.

You will never be refused treatment for an issue completely unrelated to your size until you lose weight. Some real life examples include seizures, broken bones, psoriasis, and weak dental enamel.

I had no idea.  Isn’t that grounds for malpractice though?!

You will never be denied a diagnosis because you cannot fit inside of the testing equipment.

As big as I’ve been, I’ve thankfully not experienced this.  I can only imagine it being embarrassing, scary, frustrating, and stressful as hell.  This one makes me incredibly sad.

You will never have to worry about a doctor being afraid to touch you because of your size. The “no touch” approach to gynecology means that fat women are way less likely than our thin sisters to be receiving life saving screenings and treatments.

I’m grateful that I haven’t fallen victim to this, but I do have to watch my doctor examine me with disdain, making an already uncomfortable procedure that much more miserable.

My thin sister, you will never be forced to have a trans-vaginal ultrasound (a rod that goes inside your vagina) because the equipment is too outdated to get a good image of your uterus and ovaries in any other fashion. You will never feel the technician’s angry glare because he or she is forced to touch your genitals. You will never be fat-shamed (and physically violated) due to ancient, useless imaging equipment.

It really is uncomfortable, humiliating, and violating.

Thin privilege means not hearing nurses gossip about “that whale in room 4” because you passed the nurses’ station to get a drink of water.

Lucky for nurses everywhere, I’ve never experienced this. 

Thin privilege means you are less likely to be receiving public health care, and more likely to have access to size positive doctors.

I’m grateful that this doesn’t apply to me.

Thin privilege means not paying extra for private insurance.

I’m grateful this doesn’t apply to me as well.

And thin privilege hurts thin people, too. Society, and our doctors, tend to see thin people as healthy. Doctors may neglect to order further testing for thin patients with symptoms of illnesses that are traditionally seen as “obesity-related” (e.g. diabetes, hypertension, thyroid conditions, heart disease, high cholesterol).

Thin privilege is bad for everyone’s health.

(submitted by Stephanie de Haven)


Ah, there we go.  There’s a LOT of truth to this, and I’m glad it was included. 
I’m still trying to decide whether or not to switch doctors and medical associations because every doctor I’ve been to since my move to Cali has blamed every malady I’ve had on my weight.

The first doctor pushed for weight loss surgery and anti-depressants. 

The second also pushed for anti-depressants and therapy.

The third misdiagnosed a severe reaction to a Tdap vaccination, claiming it was my gallbladder and it had to go.  Of course, when the ultrasound came back, she still refused to diagnose it as a reaction to the vaccine which, by the way, I have a history of.  That’s three strikes.

If my current weight loss isn’t enough to shut my doctor up during the next visit, I’m out.  I’m not going to jeopardize my health because some bigoted bitch is hung up on my size and can’t do her job.  Just saying.

Health Activist Writer’s Month Challenge - Day 7

Health activist choice!  Write about what you want today. (Maybe try a bonus prompt!)

The best I ever felt physically was when I was a vegan.  Once I stopped being vegan, I eventually became the heaviest and unhealthiest I’ve ever been in my life.  So when I moved out here to Cali, I decided to work back towards that way of life and went vegetarian.  There are things I still crave, and there are people who tell me that I’m making a mistake.  I think at this point in my life I can accept that not every choice I make is going to make others happy. 

There’s always going to be someone who gets defensive about my choice because they’re insecure or guilty or whatever about theirs.  There’s always going to be someone who has to remind me that they “need meat.”  It’ll probably be annoying, and I’ll probably roll my eyes, but I’ve never been the type to try and guilt people to change their eating habits.  When I was involved in animal rights activism, my least favorite activity was “vegan outreach.” 

As a Latina, I understand the societal and cultural pressures of eating meat.  I know how it feels to make a good decision for yourself and reap the benefits, only to have family members with hypertension, diabetes, heart conditions and so on, tell you that you’re “not eating healthy.”  And, the initial reaction (or at least my initial reaction) is always “Really?!” or “Yes, because you’re the pinnacle of health.  Tell me, how many medications are you on now?”  But, in a way, that’s what they want!  They want to get a rise out of you in order to better knock you down.  I don’t think loved ones do this out of malice, but ignorance.

I hate that my choice of diet even has to come up at all, but it is simpler for someone to eat where I can eat than it would be for me to eat at, say, a steakhouse.  At my house, I’m more than willing to serve whatever my guests want - meat, poultry, I don’t care.  I just want them to be happy.  Consideration is not lost on me.  I don’t think it’s a lot to ask that my needs be taken into consideration.

The main reason I went vegetarian was for my health.  Not participating in a system of animal cruelty and lightening my carbon footprint are just happy coincidences.  Ultimately, I would like to get to a point where I can call myself a vegan again, even if only dietary.  Change takes time, or at least permanent changes do.  My reasons for becoming a vegetarian are my own.  I don’t want recognition, I don’t want trouble.