a little fat activism makes a girl go BOOM!
Wednesday, October 20th, 2010
Hi there my fatabulous friends 
Today has me smiling and a need to write off a quick post about my latest and greatest fat activism I get migraine headaches and have learned that acupuncture takes care of them like nobodies business so I am a regular patient at a local Community Acupuncture clinic that works on a sliding scale and works to be accessible to all who need it regardless of income… a very cool thing. After your session in a big communal room you can sit in the anteroom area drink some herbal tea and browse the book selection. On one wall is a community announcements board which includes things like intuitive readings, eco-conscious living workshops and the like. I was buzzing on my natural post-needle relaxed state when I saw an advertisement which stopped me dead in my tracks, it was for a new local yoga/gym outfit and the flyers had big quotes screaming “Shake (OFF) what your mama gave ya” and if that was not bad enough the flyer next to it said, “I wanna rock right now! (I gotta big butt I cant wait to slim down)”.
Now that second one? Does not even make any sense unless I am missing a cultural reference here. But right below it was a comments box so I took the time to pen down a note like this, ” I love your clinic! However I feel oppressed by the comments re above. I work for body acceptance and Health At Every Size and find comments above to be unsafe and body shaming which hurts men and particularly women. As a clinic which works to promote an atmosphere of social justice please have these removed.”
I am marvelling at myself…and I do like what I see yes indeedy. A few short months ago I would have looked at that and responded with a head nod and some shameful thought about my body and putting myself down. A few short months ago these signs would have kicked off a guilt-feed fest about how I have not been going to the gym and those nachos I ate the other day; just a heaping helping of self flagellation. In short, I would have swallowed those horrible hateful, ugly comments but today the new and improved me sees those and fights the fuck back. I am no longer swallowing the lies and now I am actively working to change the message for everyone. I deserve a gold star, people!
I will probably go back to the clinic in a week or so and I will update you on the progress. Let us hope real free thinking humans like they advert are actually working there. In fact now that I think about it maybe I should pen a letter to the actual gym… you think it will be received well….ha ha ha!!! Fatty thighs crossed!
First Episode of Ham Radio is HERE!
Monday, October 4th, 2010
Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the first episode of Ham Radio, the new podcast from the Axis of Fat. With a uniquely Australasian perspective, we hope to give you a taste of what it is like to be fat and fancy in Australia (and sometimes New Zealand depending on who’s on the show).
This week Zoe and I talk about Fat Fatshion for both Men and Women, including the current controversy with City Chic and Jibri.
Please drop us a line and let us know what you think. I’m sure that it will morph over the first few shows until we bed down exactly what it will sound like.
My Phat Philosophical Philandering
Monday, October 4th, 2010
Being new to the FA movement I’ve come to realize that I have not reached what I thought would be a peaceful conclusion. I thought that I had finally reached the summit of what was the climb of my life only to see that this mountain is only the first of a whole chain of them stretching out to the horizon. I’ve just begun this journey. What I used to accept as the truth (I am fat because I: am lazy, lacking in will, gluttonous, etc) there by being like other women who are pinching, proding themselves whilst talking about the endless hunger of dieting, a famine of the mind, as long as I bought into that I would be accepted even as I was the flotsam of failed attempts washed up on the shore of constant striving.
But now that I have awakened to see the illogical fallacies around me, as I struggle to truly be free, I am coming to other questions and wonder if they are part of “my process”. For example, an old friend of mine facebooked me and out of the blue proceeds to tell me she is a health coach who has herself lost 45 pounds and, “15 to go yay me!’ and wants me to help promote her new job to my friends.
Now, how do I handle this? Do I simply ignore the note? If I do that then what is my role in the FA movement and what does it mean if I stand silent? Do I simply work on myself to the exclusion of interfacing with greater society about the conclusions I have reached? Do I send her a note in response and if so how can I tell her that I think the very thing she is so excited about is a lie? And it is not only her, what do I do with the nameless masses around me who make countless statements and opinions where hate is tossed in as easily as one requests a coffee? Do I attempt to insert my FA mind set? And if so, will I lose friends or even hurt them in the process? If I tell them what I believe will their opinion of me change?
Over the last few months I have mentioned to a couple of friends about my transformation and the responses I got were guarded skepticism at best, polite disagreement or just changing the subject altogether. Not once was the response, “How interesting please tell me more.” And while I can quote and fling reams of data which support my choice it is met with crossed arms, slight head shakes and stiffening jaw lines.
Its with some saddness that the joy and relief I feel at getting off the rollar coaster and loving myself as I am is truly lonley here in my real world, away from the comfort of like minds on the internet. I truly wish my friends and family would join me here but instead of getting warm hands to pull up into my new world view I find resistance, disagreement, disgust even.
Ever see that move, What Dreams May Come? In that movie, the husband played by Robin Williams goes to heaven while his wife goes to hell but in this movie hell is a place of one’s own making, built out of one’s illusions and negative thoughts. The husband makes it his mission to try to convince his wife to change her point of view in order to save her. I guess this analogy is like the FA movement. We have come to a place where we find some measure of peace but it is often a lonley meadow. We watch our loved ones continue to hate themselves or others or keep trying to use a tool like dieting that always fails in the end. How can we bring these people lost within false illusions to the place where they may find acceptance and understanding? Is it our job to even try?
Sigh… I do not know the answer hence the mountain range I must continue to navigate… endless challenges for ourselves and for our fundamental beliefs as to our responsibility to others. So I place this question in your hands: what would you do and what are you doing, if anything, to advocate for the FA movement to intimate friends and family. The unawakened ones?
T-Shirt Activism
Sunday, October 3rd, 2010
Yesterday I caught up with a good friend to tour some of the buildings that were opened to the public for the inaugural Brisbane Open House. Since we would be doing quite a bit of walking, I built my outfit from the shoes (purple Converse hi-tops) up.
Flicking through my tops, I pulled out my “I’M FAT LET’S PARTY” t-shirt.
Sorry for the poor webcam quality, my camera's borked.
I looked at it thoughtfully. Bright, fire engine red, with huge white block letters emblazoned across my chest. Since I bought it about six months ago, I’ve only been brave enough to wear it down to the shops, and to the movies under a buttoned cardigan. I’ve been afraid that people might heckle me, might yell nasty things at me, or just give me that look, that “What is she thinking?” look. I’m still on my fat acceptance journey, and wearing something that might invite such comments seemed to me to be tempting fate a little bit.
That was six months ago, though. I’ve come a long way since then!
Wearing a t-shirt like this when you’re thin (and it is available in sizes from an S) is no doubt amusing for the wearer – “Haha, oh I’m SOOO FUNNY, this is IRONY YOU GUYS”. Wearing it when you’re actually fat, I think, becomes almost a little activism. T-shirt activism.
So I put it on, with a flippy grey skirt and my purple Converse, and an open grey cardigan. It felt really good. Yes, I’m fat, what are you gonna do about it? I felt almost like I was subversively calling people out as they slowed to read what that fat girl was wearing written across her chest.
I met my friend, who grinned at me, and told me that she loved my shirt. The barista who took our coffee order squinted at my chest, and asked what it said; she smiled broadly and told me “That’s awesome!”. When I went to pick up the maxi dress I’d left at the alteration shop to be hemmed, the woman serving me said my shirt was great too.
I’m sure there were plenty of people who read my shirt and thought to themselves that I was revelling in my gluttony, or giggled to their friends about the shameless fat girl, or gave me the side-eye. But that doesn’t matter to me. Because I’m sure that there were people who smiled, or thought to themselves that their fat friends were wonderful no matter their size, or that maybe not all fat people were lazy, stinky and stupid. I count that as a win for fat acceptance.
Would you wear something proclaiming your size acceptance beliefs in public? Tell me what you think!
Run! Fatties in bikinis! The sky is falling!
Tuesday, September 28th, 2010
A recent article in the Brisbane Times — Obesity (in the Beauty Beat section) was of the opinion that fatties shouldn’t be seen in bikinis. I assume a great deal of the commenters agree. I have trained myself not to read the comments on news articles because I don’t want to use up the despair for humanity section of my brain so early in the week.
The writer is saying fat should be camoflauged. I disagree vehemently. I am fat. How can that be ‘hidden’? Why should it be? Why should I have to minimise my body to fit in with bullshit beauty standards? Where is our sense of “decency”? I don’t think one should ascribe morals to a person’s body.
So, this is a call-out. A protest. If you’re fat and own a bikini, I want to see you in it. I want to see you flaut your sense of “decency”, I want you to show that body you should be so “ashamed” of.
ETA: Go Corpulent! Frances has kindly allowed me to use her photos in this post. Awesome bikini and awesome post.
My relationship with food is on the rocks
Friday, September 24th, 2010
Another post from the annals of Nicholosophy. At this rate, I should just add my blog to the fat-o-sphere feed…
Warning: I mention weight loss diets. I’m certainly not advocating them though. I also mention the word diet in the context that it is meant, that is “Course of living or nourishment; what is eaten and drunk habitually; food; victuals; fare”.
I have always been a fast eater. For some reason it is as if there is a competition to finish my meal as fast as possible. I remember as a kid going to Sizzler, which is an all-you-can-eat buffet restaurant. I’d be so happy to finish my meals as quickly as possible because it meant I could go back and get more, and more and more. I’d always make myself sick and feel overfull by the time I finished and went home with my parents.
Then there were the times when I’d be on Weight Watchers or other diets. The most successful time for me on WW was in 1999 and 2000. I lost a heap of weight, but it was my mum who was monitoring what I was eating for me. She’d make my lunches and dinner to be compliant with the plan. It worked until such time as I had to take control of my own food management and it all fell over.
All these sorts of experiences have shaped how I deal with food today. I still know the points value for some foods, not that I use them any more. I still know that certain things would be approved on WW and can sometimes see myself move away from something I want to something I think I should have. I also have the other side where I think “I’m fat, it doesn’t matter what I eat” and I just grab anything I feel like.
You know, there are times where I eat things and I feel guilty about it before I eat it. So I’ll go and hide myself away to eat it so I don’t get seen eating it. The fact that eating makes me feel guilty shows me that I have an unhealthy relationship with food.
I suffer from reflux, so I’m not meant to eat things with caffeine in them, like coffee and chocolate. Curry isn’t a good idea, nor is fatty food, tomatoes and a few other things that will set me off. Eating fast isn’t good either, and as mentioned I’ve always been a fast eater. I have learned that a little bit here and there is OK, so like most things it’s about moderation, not complete removal.
When I first was told this, it wasn’t moderation. It was nothing at all. Now instead I’ve had “real” coffee for breakfast, not decaf. I had curry last night for dinner. I had baked beans for dinner (contains tomato sauce). I had Red Rooster for lunch. I had a chocolate later on this evening. If I had just had one or two of these things, I’d be OK but instead I’m now suffering a massive reflux attack (I’m writing this at 1am for that reason). So I’ve gone from one extreme to the other, and this is what I used to do when I was stuck in the weight loss diet round-a-bout.
A real diet is about learning what makes your body happy. It means I am only restricted by what I think works best for me. I won’t give up chocolate, but I just need to remember to moderate it and listen to my body. By eating slower and taking the time to listen to my body, I get the chance to hear my body say “hey, back up. I’m full”, or “OK, this is making you feel sick, you might want to reconsider.”
A real diet is about feeling good about food and not denying yourself something because of some arbitrary “good” or “bad” label. Some foods I won’t touch because I know the moment I do, I’ll feel crook. For example, I avoid pastry if I can tell my stomach is a bit dodgy today.
Learning to understand food is important to me, and I think it is something that everyone has to deal with at some stage. My relationship with food has been on the rocks for years, but I can’t file for divorce. I’ve got to fight a good fight and get it back on track. Fat or otherwise, food is something that everyone has to deal with. Learning about how my body works and what foods make it feel good and bad (rather than being labelled “good” and “bad”) is something I think has to be a priority.
You Sound Fat: Fat Embodiment Online
Monday, September 13th, 2010
Hello! I am going to start cross posting my fat related posts from definatalie.com to axisoffat.com, because as you might have noticed, I’ve been a bit quiet here! Bri from Fat Lot of Good totally revved me about this (in a good way!) and said I should cross post because definatalie.com isn’t on the Notes from the Fat-o-sphere feed and some of my posts should really end up on it! So here goes. This is the paper I presented at the Fat Studies conference in Sydney over the weekend. Enjoy! (Original post)
Fat Studies: A Critical Dialogue was INCREDIBLE. I truly can’t put into words how wonderful it was but I’m going to attempt to at a later stage. There were so many fabulous people to meet and ideas to action and a buttload of fun and friendship. In the interim please accept a video of my presentation, and the paper it’s based on. I was very nervous but it seemed to go ok!
Get the Flash Player to see this player.
My name is Natalie and I’m fat, I like the internet and I should preface this by telling you that I’m so unacademic I had to ask Google how to write an abstract for a paper when I was encouraged to submit something for this presentation! Gratefully, I also had the support of Australian Fat Studies academics as well as complete strangers on the internet, and I want to tell you a story about how I’ve come to be here, loving and accepting myself with the help of the World Wide Web.
Chubby teen finds the internet
I started using the internet in 1995 as a 14 year old at a private girls school. While my friends were swapping X-files fanfic and accidentally swearing at our headmistress via PM over our Novel network, I was helping other students circumvent the ban on chatrooms by using Telnet talkers. I’ve always been interested in communication and community on the internet, rather than downloading porn or music and other stuff. I sought people I could connect with because most folks just didn’t get me; I had crazy ideas that human beings should be treated equitably and I was an introvert who communicated much more comfortably via the written word.
Despite running the gamut of teenagehood and being exposed to conflicting messages about what my female body was supposed to look like, I never wanted to be skinny and I never really was. At a size 14 I felt kind of trapped between being properly skinny and properly fat. I remember many times thinking that if I was going to be chubby I ought to be properly chubby with the benefit of soft flesh and rounded bits. I was attracted to chunkier people and while I felt my thoughts went against the grain I never questioned or repressed them.
Properly fat
At 17, I was diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes and found I had to change my whole life. Suddenly I had to inject insulin four times a day and monitor my blood sugar levels in relation to what I put in my mouth. My regular meals had to be balanced, planned, measured and predictable. I had hypos in the middle of the night, and woke disoriented and pouring with sweat; the only way it could be fixed was by eating food to bring my blood sugar back up again. I put on weight even after I lost a lot of weight pre-diagnosis, even after establishing really healthful and doctor-approved, diabetic-friendly eating habits. My body became properly fat and I felt a sense of relief to belong to a group – even if it was a feared and harassed group. I started to get really curious about fat bodies. I tried to talk about fatness with friends and family but the conversations never went very far. People, mostly female, felt genuinely panicked when I brought up the topic.
My Mother was concerned about the weight gain and accompanied me to Weight Watchers meetings. I went along to a few and ate the diet, but it never felt right to me. As a diabetic, my food intake was already policed (by myself and by other people) so submitting myself to more policing and having to pay for it felt wrong and unhealthy. I never felt as if I had disordered eating, nor as if what I ate contributed to my weight gain. My General Practitioners and every Endocrinologist up until my current one would treat me as if I were some kind of terrorist, waging war against my body by intentionally putting on weight. My current Endocrinologist actually says something new: I could have Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome symptoms. Back when I was doing Weight Watchers I knew that my weight gain couldn’t be explained by my food habits and it didn’t make sense for me to further damage my relationship with food by doing a diet that reduced nutrition to numbers so I dropped out. My Mum was baffled but dropped the issue with me, while continuing to pursue various diets herself, yet always remaining the same, familiar and lovely Mum-shape. I broke up with dieting because it seemed like a crock.
(more…)
Nicholosophy: A man in the Fat-o-Sphere
Monday, September 13th, 2010
This was originally posted at Nicholosophy, where I blog about much more than just fat acceptance.
I had the honour to speak at the Fat Studies: A Critical Dialogue conference held in Sydney on 10 and 11th September. This was unexpected and therefore my talk was an impromptu discussion about a man’s perspective of the Fat-o-Sphere. I don’t have a transcript or paper to post, so the best I can do is to show you what I had to say. Please forgive me if you can’t watch the video. Transcribing this would take half a day and I just don’t have that time spare. Next time I will put together a paper first so that I can post that online instead.
It was titled “Nicholosophy: A man in the Fat-o-Sphere”. Big thanks to Natalie for her video editing skills.
So, without further ado…
Get the Flash Player to see this video.
If you do have any questions, drop me a comment and I’m happy to discuss further.
Calling it out: casual anti-fat bigotry sucks.
Sunday, September 12th, 2010
I’ve been away from the fat-o-sphere for a few months – I’ve still been reading, but I haven’t been blogging, or being terribly activist-y at all. But I’m back now, and I hope be blogging regularly for you all at AoF!
It’s been an interesting time for me – lots of changes and decisions, lots of stress. But lots of good times too, especially with my friends.
I do everything I can to make my life a safe space. I cultivate friendships (both online and off) with people who hold similar beliefs to my own, who are anti-bigotry in all its insidious forms. I try to call people in my life out on their problematic usage of language and stereotypes. It’s not always easy.
About six weeks ago I started a new job in a state government department. The people I work with are universally lovely – helpful and friendly, and very welcoming to new staff members. I was having a bit of a chat with my co-worker and another girl who works with our department but on another floor one afternoon, when the conversation segued into a discussion about public transportation, and its limitations.
Now, I’m a huge (heh) advocate of public transport. I’m 24 years old, and don’t have a driver’s licence – not even a learner’s permit. At some point I will do it, but it’s fairly low on my list of priorities; I live very close a major busway stop, in an inner-city suburb. Technically I’m within reasonable walking distance of my workplace, though I catch the bus most mornings. I’m also only a fifteen minute walk from a train station.
So, I love public transport. We talked a little bit about the issues with it – rising fare costs and the like – when one of the girls leaned forward conspiratorially and said (paraphrased slightly): “You what I hate though? When I’m sitting down, and an obese – you know, morbidly obese – person gets on and I’ve got a free seat next to me.”
I raised my eyebrows. “What’s the problem?” I asked.
She looked a little flustered. “Well, you know, if they sit next to me, they’re going to touch me. I hate that!”
I remember resisting the urge to tear strips off her, and said mildly, “Well, R___, I’m morbidly obese, so I hope it wouldn’t offend you if I sat next to you.”
I nearly gave up on the conversation when she responded with, “Oh, but you’re not like that – I mean people that literally hang over the edge of the seat.”
“It’s fortunate that you aren’t actually paying for a seat on a bus, then – we pay to get from point A to point B, there’s no guarantee it’ll be comfortable,” I said, and went back to my desk, gritting my teeth.
The seats on Brisbane buses aren’t large. I carry most of my weight in my belly, so my hips aren’t super wide, but I do hang over the edge of the seat a little. I’m a size 22. How could I not? Seating is not made to accommodate fat people. It’s this kind of casual bigotry – ew yuck I don’t want fatties touching me – that makes me incredibly annoyed, and I try to speak up against it whenever I can.
Interestingly, there haven’t been any negative repercussions. I still get on well with this co-worker, we chat about mundane stuff, our work and the like. But she hasn’t brought up the subject again. I doubt I’ve converted her – we all know how difficult an idea size/fat acceptance is in our thin-privileged culture – but if I can sow the seeds, start the thought process towards someone beginning not to hate themselves and other fat people, then it’s a conversation that’s well worth having.
I went to Sydney for a few days in July. I’ve not had trouble with airline seats so far – they’re occasionally a tight fit, but I can get my seatbelt done up without an extender. No trouble this time either, though the seatbelt on the return trip seemed shorter, and no one was rude to me when they sat down next to me either.
But I’m flying to New York City (OMG OMG) in early November, and I’m a little nervous about that. It’ll be the longest flight I’ve ever done (13 hours BNE-LAX, and 5 hours LAX-NYC, the same coming back) – the closest I’ve done to that is the nine hour flight to Japan. Hopefully QANTAS’ seats will be comfortable; I’ve never flown with them before so it will certainly be an experience.
I’m ridiculously excited about this trip, NYC has been a dream destination for me for years. Any suggestions on things to do? I’m going to go see lots of shows, and of course I’ll be hitting up Re/Dress – can’t wait to finally see it for real!
Bonus photo: It was the lovely Sonya’s birthday party last night, and being very mature women, we decided that a riff on this meme would be hilarious:
HURRRGGHHHHH
We totally challenged the dominant paradigm. Also we are fancy! Sonya is wearing an Asos dress, I am wearing a Monroe (Myer) dress, and we are wearing the same black oxfords from Betts. In fact, we bought them at the same time! Fatty shopping bonding. <3
Not-crying and the art of self-awareness
Sunday, September 12th, 2010
This was originally posted at Nicholosophy, where I blog about much more than just fat acceptance.
I am always on a journey of self-development. It’s only been in the last few years that I have become more self-aware. I am learning to listen to my body and to heed it when it tells me that I need to rest, or that I’m feeling flat. I am aware now that when I’m feeling blue that it is a state of mind and something that I can work though. Well, sometimes I am aware of this. Sometimes I fall into a heap and not-cry.
I don’t know if it is special to me, but I am a very good not-crier. Not-crying is when I am feeling so emotionally raw and on edge that I want to cry, and yet I can’t. My mind goes blank and I just stare, looking at nothing in particular in a state of despair and sadness. No tears well in my eyes, no sobbing or anything like that. Yet my brain switches to this off mode that is like nothing else I ever experience. So I figure it is something significant, and call it not-crying.
I’ve often felt weird about my brain. I was diagnosed as being hyperactive when I was a child, and I realised when I was studying Primary Education at Uni (thank goodness I didn’t stick with that!) that I probably had Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.
Oh Shiny! More completely unrelated stuff – makes sense, no? (by
What I find is that I am one who bores quickly of things when I’ve mastered them, or at least mastered them in my own brain. I also feel like my brain never switches off. Some conscious thought is going through my brain, trying to make its way out. This occurs regardless of whether I’m trying to chill out or get other things done. It’s only when I’m having a not-cry that I feel this void of thought.
So it’s no surprise then to learn that since I have these thoughts running through my brain all the time, that I often find myself falling into the trap of negative self-talk and putting myself down when I’m feeling crap. I am not perfect and yet being someone who writes about fat acceptance, I think people expect me to be. Or more correctly, I expect me to be.
I sometimes feel bad about the things I eat, even though I know I shouldn’t put a good or bad emotion on food. I sometimes berate myself for not being able to fit into my clothes, even though I know that my body will move between my natural weight range. There are days when I’d happily give up and just allow myself to be brainwashed yet again into thinking I’m defective and evil for being fat.
I’ve learned enough though to know that I can’t go back there. I was miserable there. I had no idea who I was as a person. In fact I think I was trying to pretend that I was someone I wasn’t. I was pretending to be ok with being fat, and clearly I wasn’t. I read all the books and had all the recipes on how to lose weight. I’d regularly think about joining Weight Watchers, which I think I last did in 2005 or 2006. Man I was such a sad person back then, and yet I thought I was happy.
Now I know I am happy, at least a lot of the time. The times I feel like crap I at least appreciate later on knowing that I was feeling like crap. I’ve learned so much from my crap moments that I can’t really trade them. I wouldn’t be me without them.
I think it is hard to be accepting of ourselves, whether we are fat, thin, tall, short or whatever. I reckon that if I wasn’t fat I wouldn’t be happy with other things. So to hell with going backwards, I’ll happily keep moving forward. I just need to remember to cut myself some slack occasionally.
