Addict

Trigger Warning: talk of addiction and eating disorders.

I have a problem. I have had this problem for the majority of my life, and I have only realized what it was a few days ago. Why?

This is literally what I thought think.

Because I have had a relapse.

Probably triggered by recent events, I had a discussion with Mata this past MLK day that really made me reflect and analyses myself. I had complained to her about the treatment in my P.E. class, and during the discussion she asked me, "Why are you fat?" ....What?

"Why are you fat?"

I had to think about it. Of course, there is always the answer, "why does it matter?" That's like asking me why I'm a girl or why I am tall or why I like Paganism over all the other religions. But for the sake of argument, let's consider it. Why? There could be many reasons why: genetics, socioeconomic class, access to quality food, ability and means to physically move. Genetic wise, my maternal family is all short and average, and my paternal family is tall and stocky. I seemed to have inherited more from my father in that body type than from my mother, but the problem is that no one, no one, from that side of the family is as heavy as I am (they are also not very many of them alive; I am 75% sure I also inherited their tenancy towards heart attacks and cancer).

So what about the other three factors? I was from a poor family; the Working Class. We were only able to buy cheap, typically processed, food like Ramen noodles and $0.99 cent white bread. Fresh fruits and veggies were rare, and were typically frozen or canned. We just couldn't afford $4.50 for a loaf of good wheat bread or $5 for a half gallon of organic milk. My ability to move around was self-restricted as well, preferring to stay indoors and read, eat, or watch TV.

Toxic words like these would replay over and over again.

But, as I have talked about before (TL;DR - Food Issues, linked above), I mostly ate. I would eat and eat and eat and eat and eat and eat and eat. I wouldn't -- couldn't-- stop myself. I would binge without the purge, not because I was against bulimia but because I couldn't force my body to. I have, on many occasion growing up, put toothbrushes or even my fist down my throat in an attempt to vomit. My body would absolutely refuse. I tried to gorge myself many, many times, to the point of bursting, and still my body would not give it up. That is the only reason why I did not become bulimic.

That's not to say I didn't have an unhealthy relationship with food. I obsessed over it constantly. I thought about it always, and especially when it was in front of me. I would stare at my friend's breakfasts or lunches like some starved dog begging for food and my friend's would become uncomfortable. I would sometimes hide in the library to escape the sights and smells, skipping my own lunch or breakfast. I would later, in my teen years, cycle between not eating and binging, hiding from my friends and begging them for money. I would also hide my own eating, not wanting to eat in front of my friends and family. They probably didn't notice just how much I ate when people weren't around and no one was watching.

Sticks and stone may break my bones, but words can make me starve myself.

When I started my journey towards the betterment of myself and found HAES, I started to work on my relationship with food. I would buy myself actual food; real fruits and veggies, organic foods and milk, wheat bread, and everything I thought would be better for my body. It really responded for me, very much enjoying the new sights, smells, and tastes. Slowly, I would recognize my impulses to emotionally eat and would do something else. Soon, I would find an exercise that I actually liked instead of despised, and then another, and another. I would still eat many times a day, 5 or 6 times, but they were small, dense meals that would fill me. I would stop thinking about eating; stop revolving my life around food; stop obsessing about my weight; stop being possessed to horde, and gorge on, food.

I still horde food, but now I don't gorge, and the food is all in the kitchen instead of in my room. I horde food to such an extent that too much of it goes bad and I throw it out. I shop every week, mostly out of necessity, but if I have to put back food because I don't have enough money, I become stressed over it. If I don't have enough food in the house to have a full fridge and pantry, I become very stressed. Sometimes I go look in the fridge and pantry (and this sounds so damn silly) to make sure the food is still there.

I didn't notice just how far I had gone in my recovery until my relapse. I have had a non-stop binge episode for the past week, and I am struggling to control it. My ability to listen to what my body wants has eroded and has been exasperated by the fact that I can now afford to "feed my habit." The sudden stress at home, work, and school has agitated the disordered eating, and the disordered eating is creating stress which in turn excites the disordered eating.

This isn't what I want! This isn't how I want to be! Damn it, I don't want to be consumed by my thoughts; I don't want to be devoured by my depression again; I don't want to be engulfed by this.

Like those addicted to drugs or alcohol, this addiction has truly harmed myself and those around me. Harming myself is obvious (short term; stomach pains, depression and sluggishness, lack of energy, depletion of food stores and subsequent stress over lack of food. Long term; high blood pressure, high resting heart rate, muscular atrophy, etc), but others? Yes; I have lied, cheated, and stole to feed my habit. I have taken money from my parents and stole food from my family's mouths. I have lied to my friends for food, and even taken from them. I have pressured the people in my life for "hits," or just directly taken from their pantries or fridges. But unlike those people who are addicted to heroin or cocaine or alcohol, I can't just stop eating. I can't not have it in the house. I can't not be around it. I can only manage it, and take steps against it.

Being Body Positive helps me. Being an advocate for HAES helps me. It helps me form a positive image of myself and helps develop inner self-esteem. It helps by soothing the underlying reasons for my addiction. If even for selfish reasons, I advocate loving yourself, because if I didn't, I would have died long ago.

I am Kitsune and I have an eating disorder. Perhaps I am fat because of it; perhaps I am fat for other reasons. Perhaps many other infinite things that I can't describe or think of. All that is certain now is that I have this, and I have to deal with it.

Trigger Week and Clubs

Trigger warning: talk of fat bashing, but then it gets better.

My college classes just started about a week or so ago, and I can honestly say that I enjoy most of them. My English professor is a hoot, Intro to Interpreting has already promised to be challenging, and Fingerspelling and Numbers and ASL 4 are still being taught by some of my favorite Deaf professors.

The exception? Concepts of Physical Fitness. It is a required course for graduation, and I can't substitute it for anything else. Let me tell you, it is the biggest trigger for me in years. Oh, you wouldn't believe some of the crap coming out of the (woman) co-professor's mouth. Or maybe you know exactly what they say. Let me say, I specifically looked for the professor I currently have because he is somewhat body positive (at least more so than any other professor in the health department) and I can stand him. Unfortunately, to "save space," the Health Department decided that two Concept classes should be put together in the same room. Yay, I get a professor I wanted in the first place with another who I dislike very much. Because of this, I had a hellacious week.

Source.

It started with Concepts class (surprise). We started lecture, and the woman professor went through the chapters with us. She went through all the usual propaganda of "our children will die before us!" and "the obesity epidemic is on the rise." When I told her that the information was incorrect, and that new data says otherwise, she told me that the book was up-to-date as of 2010. Y'all, just not. A lie repeated a million times is still a lie. Then she said she "used to be fat and 10lbs overweight but now I'm thin and healthy." That's great for you, but don't think that what you did will translate to anyone else. And ten pounds, really?

The real kicker, and my final straw, was when she went off on a tangent and said that all fat people are lazy couch potatoes that do nothing but shove their faces full of processed foods and have a constant diet of fast foods and that all fat people would be healthy if they would just get off their lazy asses and exercise and eat right. Dafaq? Just, dafaq? If I have another three months of this coming, I don't want to take this class anymore. I just wanted to scream and shake her! Alas, I didn't.

Afterwards, I posted on Body Love Wellness' facebook page about help for this situation and what I should do about it. Golda turned around and posted it for her fans and they gave great information, and I will be pursuing them. The suggestions were:

• Get Dr. Linda Bacon's book, read it, read the research, and quote it. Already ordered it!
• Challenge the information and discuss it with the professor privately. I may do this first, to try and convince both the professors to lay off it. 
• Keep a journal, write my thoughts and impressions, and talk to a therapist. I have never been good at keeping journals (that's why my BOS and Dream Journal is still a major WIP. /forshame/)
• Write an article in the college newspaper. This is a great idea, and I actually am working towards that. I met the producer of my college's radio show and she used to work for the college paper. She said she would be glad to give me an interview on the show and that she would also recommend me to the newspaper too. Whoot!
• Blog about it! (ehehehehe)
• Ask for a day to lead the discussion. I will honestly try this! 
• Write a two page handout for people and distribute it throughout the class. I think this is another great idea, and I think that I will do this not only in the class, but also as a club activity.

Club activity???  Yes! I have started the process towards getting a Health At Every Size club up and running at my local college after the class incident. After three semesters of searching for a sponsor, I had to go outside of the Health Department and found one in the Art Department. I am so grateful for my sponsor, and she has some tales of her own. Touki has had bariatric surgery and went through a roller coaster ride from it. I am sure she will be a great resource.

Happy thoughts. Mmm, I wonder where this goes?

But, it was because I was looking for a way to get the club up that I ran into the Student Organization part of the college. I showed up, and since I had been there before, the secretary knew me and what I was attempting. She told me that she was going to put together a panel in March that talked about body image and that she was looking for participants. She asked me and I suggested a Sociologist because body image has most of its roots as a social construct. The secretary also said she might ask me to join as well. Yay!

But, while I have had a crazy week, I have been struggling with myself. I have relapsed (more on that on a later post) and I'm not feeling well. I am ashamed that something like this has affected me so much, but then again, I wasn't where I wanted to be in the first place. And so, here begins the road to recovery, but this time it will be paved myself, mending my self and self-esteem to create an internal anchor. A sword only gets stronger by being beaten and sharpened, beaten and sharpened. I look forward with anticipation.

Catching Up

It's been a while since I posted last, and I apologize for that. So let's catch up, shall we?

Karen the Exchange Student and I with a dog.

Over the Yule/Christmas week I spent my time at my cousin's farm in East Texas (i.e., middle of nowhere). It was like a much needed retreat, and I had the fortune to be in a place with 40 acres of nothing but forest and no lights for miles and miles. Blissful to say the least, and it reminded me that I do very much like the country life. Now, only to get 100 acres of my own....

Gotta Catch 'Em All!

You can see a portion of the woody area behind Karen and I. Behind the camera, as well as to the right, the woods were much closer and much deeper. Also done was one of my Bucket List items! (Yay!!) When Christmas came around (because my cousins are Christian and celebrate that), I got a great collection of kitchen items as well as my very own Pokemon party. xD

Did I mention that my cousins have goats and horses? No? Well shucks, those things are so cute and so stupid at the same damn time. Those goats, I'm telling you, are either crafty, sly little poop machines, or they are so damn stupid I wouldn't be surprised if they had trouble breathing in the rain because they look at the sky with mouths wide open. A few of the goats had kids, but one had twins and rejected one. So Mata (my female cousin; she is very, very energetic. Mata means again, also, or fork in the road.) is taking care of the baby. Booger is sooo cute and sooo spoiled!

Damn thing is so cute. It is a boy, and also adoptable.

After we got back from East Texas, we proceeded to move my brother, Otouto, into my house. For the back story, look here. It has been a rocky first week, but we are getting the hang of things and it is starting to smooth out. Perhaps things will continue to be smooth. Perhaps my lesson in all of this isn't to have a clenched fist, but rather an open hand. "Pay no mind to the battles you've won. It'll take a lot more than rage and muscle. Open your heart and hands my son, or you'll never make it over the river."


As for my health, I have (to my relief) started lifting again. HAES talks about moving your body the way you love to and it loves to, and for me that is lifting weights. I love the pump, the rush, the feeling of being strong. Now, don't get me wrong; I also enjoy Zumba and, most recently, Flirty Girls (they are kind of like a mix between dancing and stretching, except way harder). However, there's just something about pumping iron that excites me.

Which brings me to a competition. My favorite bodybuilding website is sponsoring a fitness competition, and the grand prize ain't something to sniff at. To the victor goes $50k, plus a few other nice tid bits. I am seriously thinking I am going to join and go through the LiveFit workout program. Mind you, the LiveFit program is about leaning out but also for strength building and endurance. For my purposes, I'm going to focus on the latter. If I happen to lean out, meh, but that isn't my goal nor will I advocate for that. I've cheated off the program for a while now, getting workouts from here and there, but haven't really gone through it, but I can tell you that the workouts are pump-ilicious. I've never pushed myself like I have before. Makes me lick my lips just thinking about the challenge!!

Last but not least, I have been working on lucid dreaming with mixed results. A breakthrough happened a few days ago, where I just happened to go to sleep *in my dream* and while I was dreaming in my dream (Inception!) I realized that I was dreaming and "woke up" to be able to fly around for a bit before waking to the first dream and continuing with that one, completely oblivious to the fact that I had a lucid dream beforehand (if that makes sense).

Source, and a pretty interesting article.

My dreams have always felt "real," sort of, in the sense that I never ever feel like they are dreams; instead they feel like reality. No matter how odd, how completely weird or crazy the dream becomes, it always always feels real. In fact, when I have gotten injured in dreams before, I wake up with pain in that spot. A few weeks ago I had a dream that I was having a heart attack, and I woke up with chest pains. Years before that, I had a dream where I had gotten shot and I woke up thinking I was dying because I could still feel the bullet wounds. Anyway, my dreams seem to be like I am the third person watching things unfold without my opinion or voice, as if I am the silent observer.

Almost like this, except male and scarier.

One dream stands out from the many, many. This one I was actually present, way back when I was starting my Pagan and magick path. There were two children in the dream, a girl and a boy, and I wandered over to them. We started talking about magick, and they told me that they could teach me. We started talking about stones when suddenly I was in an alleyway with cats everywhere. I walked down the alleyway but as I was, the scene kept cutting to a guy who was running down the other end of the alley in a nun's outfit (he actually was surprised he was in the nun outfit, but then actually hiked the dress and started running lol), and then cutting back to me. We reach the middle in this sort of tunnel/bridge underside and I'm on this ledge looking down at this guy. At this point, the two children are next to me. The guy brandishes a knife and tells me that I should "stop, before things get serious." I could sense he was talking about my journey into learning magick and that he was going to kill me if I didn't. I looked down at the children, and the children look back up to me with worry in their faces; they were worried I was going to leave them. I guess I decided to stay with them, because I cut the guy a look of pure indifference and wish him gone, and I wake up.

This would be just another weird dream of mine if I hadn't caught wind that my mentor also had a dream of the same children and the same guy that same night and gave details of these people without any kind of preconception. In his, he was teaching the children about magickal Fire when that was cut short and he ended up in a blacksmith shop which eventually lead to him fighting the same guy who was in a priest's suit and collar.

Anyyyywaaaayyy, the very last bit of news is I have been going through the articles in this Body Love Wellness post. Warning, some of the posts may be triggers; it certainly triggered me into a serious binge this past week (which can also be coupled with boredom, being super stressed re: my brother, and my seasonal depression). Either way, the articles are a must read, and so is the blog.

Chow for now!

Why I don't like Biggest Loser

The Biggest Loser is on its 14th season, and recently decided that they would include children on their program. You might be saying, "Oh, this is great. The child epidemic is finally being addressed in a successful program like BL." Well no, this is actually a bad turn of events. While I can sit here and retell you everything these next links will, I'm not. So go and read these, because holy crap.

Season 3 Biggest Loser Finalist, Kai Hibbar, recounts her traumatic experiences on the Ranch, and the horrible conditions people were forced to endure for the sake of Reality TV. 

Biggest Loser contestants can't talk out about it though, or they risk a million dollar fine.

Meanwhile, Jillian Michaels says on air that she was "proud I made [Season 2 contestant Greg] vomit." She also says she makes the contestants vomit when they work big muscle groups and that vomiting expels toxins. Where the fuck did you get your health degree, because it needs to be revoked!

How about the fact that the Biggest Loser destroys contestants metabolism?

There are other things, like previous contestants saying they have gained almost all their weight back after they left the ranch and have very bad food issues afterwards. And to have these things now pressed on children? I think not.

From Body Love Wellness. An awesome blog!!! (click on pic for link)

Gym: Not For Skinnies!

People working out at Downsize Fitness

Here in Dallas, TX there is a gym that exclusively caters to the fatties who's goal is to lose more than 50lbs. It is called Downsized Fitness (which also has locations in Las Vegas and Chicago) and they do not allow any skinny people (except for trainers).

The gym has frosted windows and no mirrors so that patrons do not feel embarrassed by their bodies and so no one from the outside can see them work out.

Downsize Fitness Founder Francis Wisniewski, 38, says "As an overweight person, it's in my head that I'm being judged, whether it's true or not," he said. "So a slogan on the wall isn't going to matter if I'm working next to a 90-pound woman or a bodybuilder."

 Well no shit, Sherlock. Everyone knows about the pervasive fat hatred that fatties experience on a daily basis, and by everyone, I mean all us fatties. Getting sideway glances from someone you perceive as thinner or more athletic than you will make some of the more confident fatties doubt themselves, even if the person was only looking at the clock behind you.

Trainers are the only fit people at DsF.

My own experience at the gym I frequent has been pleasant, actually. I have not gotten any kind of negative perceptions, and in fact have had people help me whenever they can. From tips on how to do a particular exercise (ex: don't bend your knees when you do Stand Calf Raises. Yes, it is easier, but you do not want that) to encouragement during a particularly grueling workout session. However, I have the luxury of a small, locally owned gym and I realize that my experience is probably not the norm. I say, if you are around a gym that caters only to the fat, go see how you like it. If you want to try your luck at a nearby gym that caters to everyone, do so! But you should know that those people are probably not judging you, and if they are it will most likely be positively (in their mind, anyway. You know, "Oh, I am glad to see an obese person taking action about their health. Good for them.")

My attitude? I don't give a flying fuck what someone else thinks about me at the gym. I am not there for them, I am there for myself. Ain't nobodies damn business on what I do or anything. I will treat you however it is that you treat me: if you are positive to me, I will totally be positive to you. If you ignore me, I will do likewise. If you treat me negatively, I will get you kicked out of the damn gym, you asshat.

But imagine overweight and obese people doing activities that they actually love doing, and being taught how to enjoy their food instead of being scared of it, and not being shamed and shit. Almost sounds like they are being treating like a human or something.

Skyclad, Body Issues, & Opinions

What do you see when you look at this picture?

Click here for a bigger picture.

If your first thought was "A Pagan ritual", you are probably a female and/or Pagan practitioner with a few years under her/[his] belt.

If your first thought was "Are those women naked? *shock*" or "Damn, those women look good!", you are probably a man and/or a novice Pagan or not a pagan at all.

(If, by chance, you noticed right away that there was a clothed woman inside the dolmen/Faery Gate, I don't know what to make of you. If, by chance, you noticed that this picture was shot in Scotland, or that this is a scene from The (original) Wicker Man, congratulations, you have too much free time on your hands. Also, I <3 you.)

Skyclad is the principal of being "clad with the sky" -- or in other words, naked. It is supposed to allow the practitioner to feel like s/he is completely natural, that s/he is presenting hirself* to the Gods without omission or reserve, and moves past the body shame that our culture has cultivated.

Within a group, it is supposed to foster Perfect Love & Perfect Trust, a feeling of total openness among coven members in which they can see all your flaws, all your faults, the whole of your self (spiritually, physically, mentally) and still accept and love you. Keep in mind, this is supposed to be without lust, longing, or sexual desire. Now, I have not heard of a coven that is skyclad and abuses it unless the entire group or the leaders are there only for sexual gratifications, and I definitely have not heard of coven orgies (cuz I would do that in a heartbeat! Kidding. Maybe.). However, predation in our community does happen, and let's not sugarcoat that or dismiss it.

I want to comment that Perfect Love & Perfect Trust are misnomers in the English language. Nothing in life or death is completely Perfect. Our Gods are not Perfect, we are not Perfect, even Nature and the Universe are not Perfect. From Dictionary.com:

A few usage guides still object to the use of comparison words such as more, most, nearly, almost, and rather with perfect on the grounds that perfect describes an absolute, yes-or-no condition that cannot logically be said to exist in varying degrees. The English language has never agreed to this limitation. Since its earliest use in the 13th century, perfect has, like almost all adjectives, been compared, first in the now obsolete forms perfecter and perfectest, and more recently with more, most, and similar comparison words: "the most perfect arrangement of color and line imaginable." Perfect is compared in most of its general senses in all varieties of speech and writing.

Note the fourth entry on Perfect. We can use a host of other, better suited (but poetically shattering) terms such as defectless, faultless, matchless, supreme, unblemished, unequal, untainted, or untarnished. Unblemished Love and Untarnished Trust. Hmm.... Point being, it is not about being perfect, but about a quality that cannot be matched elsewhere. Your coven is your family; they are sometimes thicker than blood and know you as well as or better than your birth family. That is your safe place, your refuge, your one space that allows you to be completely yourself without reserve. Being skyclad in front of your covenmates is the physical representation of this bond and relationship. It is supposed to be the highest form of worship.

They are pissed off about body shaming assholes

But this brings up whole new issues, specifically body issues. I know people who do not undress unless for showers and cannot even begin to take off their clothes in front of a mirror, let alone other people. How many of us can undress in the locker room without going and hiding in the stalls to get dressed? I am comfortable in my own skin and still have trouble with that. I used to torture myself over imagined comments about how my body looked when I was in middle and high school. How are we supposed to feel good in our bodies when we are told over and over and over again that we shouldn't be viewed, that we are less than, that we even don't deserve to live? And, do we bring this shame to our Gods?

Can you stand in front of your Deity completely natural and feel absolutely no shame or embarrassment when They look at you? I personally felt embarrassment the first time I presented myself. It is a conditioned response. It is the same feeling one gets at undressing in front of a lover; timidity, shyness, and apprehensiveness. Almost like waiting for another shoe to drop, for him to say something that you "always knew someone would cruelly say." Of course, it never happens, esp since the Gods don't care out how your body looks. It is a vehicle in which your spirit resides.

Skyclad rituals are completely and utterly your decision. Whatever you feel is best for you is what you should do. Try it once, see how you like it. Try it once more just to confirm your feelings. If you like it, Yay! If you don't, Yay also. All I can say is blessings upon you, my friend.



*(note: I like to use gender neutral terms like s/he and hir because I don't want to omit any gender and believe that inclusion is important. I don't like "it" because it is too impersonal.)

We are Real

Lately I have been seeing a flurry of body posts by some "high profile" companies and by ordinary people.

By "high profile," I mean my favorite clothing store Lane Bryant. (Would you know it, they happen to be having a sale! I see some awesome boots I want. Yay!) Apparently, Lane Bryant is hooking up with Skorch Magazine to present a "Real is Perfect" campaign.

From Lane Bryant's Facebook page.

Every single one of these women are beautiful, and I think that stepping forward with models like these women are great. However, as several people commented, I have yet to see these women or any other women like those above actually on the Lane Bryant site. Looking at Skorch Magazine, though, not only are BBW strewn across their pages, but a variety of bodies are represented, from thin models to obese models and everything in between.

That's the thing, body varieties.   We aren't going to get anywhere with body images when we go from one extreme to another. Please, by all means, celebrate (NSFW) the fat body! Rejoice in every curve and every roll and every blemish and stretch mark and every thing that is on you but do NOT degrade other body styles. Replacing fat shame with thin shame just creates the same problems we fat people have, but reversed. 

Truth.

More truth.

Recently in my Deaf Culture class, we were talking about the segregation in the Deaf schools. They segregated the crap out of the deaf in the early 1900s. Boys were away from girls, blacks away from whites (usually not even in the same building and not in the best condition either), profoundly deaf away from the hard of hearing. The administration even kept clubs from joining.

Women are segregated like that even today. Generally, we voluntarily keep ourselves surrounded by people with the same body type, same color, same age and education, same religious views and political views, even same family structure. Our segregation keeps us isolated, unable to reach out or think about something different or do something different. In fact, the segregation is so ingrained that we enforce it ourselves. When was the last time you heard someone make a rude comment about another person's clothing? How about another person's beliefs or body shape? Education? It happens often enough that TV makes it a cliche, something that everyone does at some point.

So, Stop It.

When someone says something offensive, tell them to stop it. When someone does something offensive, stop it. When someone starts to enforce the segregation of ourselves, stop it. When you start to enforce it, stop yourself. Just stop it. It does more harm than good. Start a mini revolution. Get some friends that don't think like you or act like you or believe like you or dress like you or look like you and revel in their differences. Entertain a different thought process. You don't necessarily need to accept it, but at least try to understand. You will find some pretty cool things, trust me.

PS. I know the pictures go over. It's like that so you can see it more clearly. 

Happiness Is... Bare Legs

I work as a lifeguard at a water park, henceforth called WP. A very wonderful, awesome water park with awesome and kind employees who don't say jack about people unless they deserve it. The men wear red shorts and WP uniform shirts (tucked in). The women, however, wear red bathing suits with WP shirt and the option of either wearing pants/skirts or none at all.

For the majority of the summer, I have been wearing pants, partly because the bathing suit I had to buy didn't fit me well after a while and partly because I thought my legs were hideous. You know, "Oh, I have varicose veins" or "my legs have huge scars" or "my legs wobble when I walk." Well, eventually the other girls started telling me to take off my pants and stand proud.

Me in the old bathing suit. You can tell it doesn't fit me anymore.

A few weeks ago, I got a bathing suit from my employer. I originally had to buy my own suit because I couldn't fit into any of the suits they had. Through the intense heat and physical labor of my job, I had lost some weight and like I said, I stopped fitting into the suit I bought. I had to get another one, this time I asked for one from my employer. Lo and behold, I could fit. And, about a week later, one of the deep water lifeguards demanded, demanded! I take off my pants. So, I humored her.

And humor her I did.

For women who don't want to wear the pants, we have to roll the shirt up and tuck it into the upper back strap. It creates an emphasis on the breasts and for me, it also emphasizes my natural hour glass curve.

I was surprised. Just like with my necklace (PS, I don't use that blog anymore, so don't bother checking up on it), my reception was a mix of nothing and compliments. Most people bothered to say not a damn thing (just how I liked it!) or laugh at my tan lines (I've got some awesome tan lines that stop just above the knee), and few would comment on how good I looked. In actuality, my "weight loss" happened over three months ago, and the only difference was the way I wore my uniform... and myself.

It's been almost a week now, and something has really changed. I'm not scared anymore. I'm not nervous or anxious or worried that someone will say something. I know that my lifeguard friends have my back and I know I am a damn good lifeguard. I am not there at the park to look pretty; I am there to save lives. If I want to walk around without pants, SO BE IT! No one can take that away.

Even though I preach body acceptance, to finally see some progress of myself is kind of amazing. I think the best part is my peers, who accept anyway, no matter what. I love my job!