I’ve had a recent experience which has really shaken me up and brought back a lot of drama and stuff that I thought I had vanquished in adolescence.  Yeah right.  We all like to believe that we’ve exorcised our demons until they come screaming out at us and bite off our heads.  And for an extra special grownup bonus, I’ve been allowed to see this drama from both sides.

Let me explain.  I am involved with various groups and companies in my life.  My experience with one of these left me feeling bitter, resentful, deeply hurt and very, very angry.  I’m not talking about little feelings here.  I’m talking about deep, depressing, stay up all night and can’t sleep kind of hurt.  I’m talking about the kind of hurt that makes me lash out at those closest to me.  Which led me to ask myself, “What is going on here?  Why is this hurt this big?  Why do these people and this situation matter SO much to me?”

Eventually, in the middle of the night, it came to me.  I was back in the cafeteria being told I couldn’t sit at the lunch table with the cool kids.  I was back on the playground being excluded from the fun because I wasn’t one of the “in crowd”.  And as a 43-year-old woman, I was pissed off.

I carefully evaluated the situation to see if I was making it up.  And I realized that no, I wasn’t.  Rules applied differently depending on whether or not you were one of the cool kids.  If you were one of the inner circle, you were trusted and complimented and if your feelings were hurt, the cool kids rallied around you.  If you weren’t one of the cool kids, you were dangerously “other”.  Sure, you could be used–everybody needs minions–but not trusted.  What’s more, the leadership of the group at large were no longer the same as the leadership of the clique.  The “in-group” began reflexively trying to protect it’s supremacy against the outside leadership and the conflict began to tear the group apart.

I had my first “aha” moment.  I was amazed that all these years later, I could get so freaked out because I was picked last for dodge ball.  But you know what?  There was more to it than that.  I realized that in my desire for acceptance from this group, I was willing to work incredibly hard.  I gave and gave of myself in the hope that they would accept me and decide I could join the cool kids.  But here’s the thing.  It didn’t work when I was a kid, and it didn’t work now.  And being excluded hurt all the more, because I had tried so hard.

At nearly the same time, there was a ripple in the size acceptance movement.  Many of you know about the amazing and awesome I Stand campaign created by Marilyn Wann.  Although the facebook program was totally open and anyone could join, some people objected to the campaign saying it wasn’t inclusive enough of groups that are often underrepresented in the size acceptance movement.  My first reaction was, “Don’t they know how awesome this thing was?  Why are they fighting something that makes things better for people of size?”

And then, last night, I had my second major “aha” moment.  I had been following a thread about this issue on facebook and a commenter said it brilliantly.  “In a movement where many of us have found acceptance for the first time, it is troubling that some of us still haven’t found it.”  And that’s when I realized just how easy it is to slip into the role of one of the “cool kids” myself.  My first instinct when being called on privilege was to deny that it referred to me.  And I might have stayed in that wonderful little cocoon of denial had I not just recently been the one on the edge of the playground with nobody to play with me.  Granted I only got a very small taste of what those disenfranchised by the size acceptance movement were experiencing, but I can tell you, it didn’t taste good.


So here’s what I’m learning here:


1.  It’s not fun to be in the “out” crowd.  No matter how old you are, it hurts when you don’t feel included.
2.  Working harder is not likely to make those in the “in crowd” accept you more.
3.  Those in the inner circle may be blissfully unaware that there is an inner circle and they are in it.  They aren’t doing it on purpose.  They are just quietly enjoying their privilege.
4.  I need to learn to recognize when I am feeling left out and that it hurts.  Then I need go find somewhere to belong or start my own darn group.
5.  Recognize that I have felt left out in the past, it can be very tempting to create my own special cliques.  It feels good to be the top dog for a change, but I we really want to soothe my hurt feelings by hurting someone else?


My dear chicklettes, this is a VERY long post.  But I’ve done a lot of learnin’ that I mean to share.  So I’m headed out to the playground to look around the edges to find somebody to play with.  Hope you do too.


Love,
The Fat Chick

 Now that we’re through the resolution craze of New Years and the thwarted crazy expectations of Valentine’s Day (alas no Lexus with a giant red bow on top for ME) we’re headed towards the insanity of the media telling us to “get ready for swimsuit season”.  Seriously.  They’re talking to us months in advance because “preparing for swimsuit season” is mediaspeak for getting a body that meets societal expectations about how it should look in a swimsuit.  Meaning tall, blonde, white, tanned and thin, thin, thin. 

According to many in the media landscape, getting ready for swimsuit season needs to start months in advance, while it’s still snowing  in many parts of the country.  This is because getting ready for swimsuit season requires a lot of preparation.  Like THIS GUY who suggests putting on your suit from last year and standing in front of a full-length mirror and also stepping on a scale.  His regimen includes joining a gym, lifting barbells in front of the TV and walking around in skimpy gym wear so you aren’t accidentally, blissfully unaware of just how awful you look.

Here’s the thing, in my book you can get ready for swimsuit season in about 2 minutes.  Just follow these simple steps:
1.  Put on a swimsuit.

Well, I guess it’s just one step.  So for all you procrastinator chicklettes out there, worry not.  In my book, you’ve got quite a while before you need to worry about “getting ready for swimsuit season.”

Love,
The Fat Chick

Lately the Strong4Life campaign in Georgia has received a lot of publicity and a LOT of pushback.  For those of you who aren’t familiar, this is a group of ads that depict fat children in black and white photography and seeks to convey how miserable it is to be a fat child.  They claim that this is a “wake up call” for parents who apparently don’t know that their kids are fat and have somehow missed the message in our culture that being fat is “bad”.  They insist their goal is not to make kids feel bad (even though the images look like shots of hardened criminals).  No, they claim, these messages are for the lousy parents who have somehow slept through the last 100 years of fat hatred and have negligently allowed their poor kids to get fat.

When confronted by critics with the ideas that these images could be extremely emotionally damaging and would increase stigma for fat children, Strong4Life supporters have suggested that the billboards are for parents and that the kids probably don’t even see them.  But let’s get real.  These billboards are about shame.  Shame for parents of fat kids and shame for fat kids.  How dare these parents allow these kids to become an unacceptable shape.  How dare these kids pollute the world with their visually unacceptable bodies?

Shame has been used for decades to help people lose weight.  But here’s the thing about shame as a weight-loss tool, it doesn’t work.  Just like virtually every other weight-loss tool in the universe (outside of amputation) it doesn’t work in the long term.  And in the short term, the side effects are devastating.  Stigmatization of fat kids is getting worse.  And since the ads don’t offer any helpful suggestions for how these fat kids are supposed to get skinny, it seems likely that many of them will take it on themselves.  And when these kids go on diets, starting as early as age 7, do they end up thinner in the long run?  Nope.  They end up both heavier and at greater risk for disordered eating.  Add this to the fact that kids of all sizes can be healthier by simply adding nutritious foods and regular and fun physical activities to their lives and you’ve gotta wonder–what are those Strong4Life people thinking?  How does THIS help kids?

So what can we do?  Well for one thing, we can work to counteract some of the negative side effects of the Georgia campaign.  Marilyn Wann has initiated an amazing campaign called “I stand against weight bullying”.  In this campaign, Marilyn has created a design template that imitates the Strong4Life ads and invites people to submit pictures of themselves and statements to represent themselves.  These images are then submitted via facebook and an amazing tumblr feed.  My image is shown above.  Go to the facebook page and learn how to submit a picture of your very own!

In addition, the most awesome Ragen Chastain, worked with several other members of the size acceptance community to create a campaign to raise money for billboards that feature a size-positive response to the Strong4Life ads.  She’s initiating a money bomb TOMORROW to get the ball rolling and raise money to meet an amazing $5,000 matching grant from More of Me to Love.  So dig through your change jars and make a contribution already!

You CAN be part of the solution for kids of size all over the world.  You can show them that they are, and will be okay.  You can demonstrate that healthy and happy life is possible at all sizes.  And  you can remind them that every BODY deserves love (including you my darling chicklettes).

Love,
The Fat Chick

Last year, as I was frantically finishing final edits to my book: The Fat Chick Works Out!  I had to accept that I had neither time nor money for a huge Christmas tree.  Even if I was in a position to shell out over $100 for a nice tree (California pricing–sheesh!) I didn’t have time to even go to the lot and pick it out, so much drag it home, prop it up and put hundreds of ornaments on it.  I had to accept that it just wasn’t going to happen.  So I took out my tiny little pretend Christmas tree, slapped one string of lights on it, and put on about a dozen little teeny ornaments.  And you know what, it wasn’t so bad.  It was disappointing, because I had expected the giant live Christmas tree.  But it’s cheery little presence kept me company in the wee, dark hours before dawn as I sat next to the fireplace and did final edits.  And I learned.

This year, I never even thought about that huge Christmas tree.  I knew I would be even busier this year than I was last year.  I didn’t win the lottery, so the big tree was probably too expensive anyway.  So I set my expectations for my tiny tree, and this year it’s making me happy with no disappointment and no regrets.  My tiny tree is enough.  I am satisfied.

I think so many times during the holidays, we make ourselves crazy with totally unreasonable expectations.  We think we need to uphold every holiday tradition that anybody in our family has ever had.  We think we should give everybody everything they ever wanted for Christmas, and even a few things they didn’t ask for.  And everybody is going to get along at all the family gatherings, and the kids will all be perfectly behaved and our holiday will look just like Mr. Rockwell’s paintings.  And naturally, we’ll lose 30 pounds between Christmas and Thanksgiving so that we can fit into that slinky little black dress we’ve been dreaming of. Because we need to make this the BEST CHRISTMAS EVER!  Ho, ho, freaking, ho.

And  of course, it never quite works out like that, does it?  When you’re standing in long lines the day after Christmas returning presents that the kids didn’t like after all (and you couldn’t afford anyway)  you cringe at this year’s NEW crop of holiday memories complete with grandma passing out after too much eggnog, nobody talking to Judy because of what she said about our Susan, and a mess that you couldn’t shift with a sherman tank.  And the little black dress?  Honey all the Spanx in the world ‘aint gonna get you there.  Frankly, it’s depressing.

But does it have to be?  What if you accept that you can’t please everybody.  What if you accept that you can’t change people?  What if you accept that this crazy, messy, imperfect, noisy and less fiscally irresponsible Christmas will be YOUR Christmas and get over it?  Can’t meet old holiday traditions?  Make new ones!  Can’t buy expensive presents?  Give of your heart and your mind and your time.  Got a crazy family?  Enjoy them while you still have them.  Gained 2 pounds since Thanksgiving?  Get a great pair of comfy but gorgeous leggings and ROCK ‘EM!

That’s my Christmas gift to you my love.  Go out and have a personalized, imperfect and perhaps more than slightly crazy holiday season.

Love,
The Fat Chick

That foreground shadow–that’s me on Fremont Street in Las Vegas during the BBW Bash last week.  For those of you who don’t know, the BBW Vegas Bash is one amazing party!  I had a great time in Sin City over the weekend.   And I thought I’d include a picture of the neon Glitter Gulch Gal from Fremont St. because THAT girl obviously knows how rock a western outfit AND have a good time.  And at over 20ft. tall, she doesn’t seem to be letting her size get in the way of living her life to the very fullest!  So my little chicklettes, I think it’s time to take yourself out and paint the town red (or whatever color you like).  Have fun.  Score some slightly racy and exciting pictures to post on facebook!  And don’t forget to send me an email and tell me all about it.

Love,
The Fat Chick

Conclusion: The Saguaro Cactus weighs more than me.

If you’d like to hear more about my life in the desert, click HERE to check out my latest post on The Fat Chick Sings.

Sometimes writing a book can seem like crossing a long, barren desert.  It’s a solitary pursuit.  Often you stagger around and encounter no one.  You just step over the bleached bones of the authors who fell before you.  Sometimes you think you will never see green or water again.  And then, you see the other side.  There’s trees, and grass and cool, cool water.  That’s what this book signing was for me.  An oasis.  A moment of rest and nourishment after a long, long haul.  I gotta tell you, it feels pretty good.

I hosted the book signing today at my favorite coffee shop–Joe’s Place.  I sat right in MY chair.  The very chair where I spend many hours, days and weeks with my trusty Mac laptop and an extra large, black, decaf coffee.  Many of my students and dear friends came by to get an autographed copy.  They were thrilled for me.  And their excitement allowed it to soak in.  I’m no longer considering the concept of thinking about maybe someday writing a book.  I WROTE the blessed thing. I have a copy in my hand.  I’ve crossed over to the long dreamed of moment where, sharpie in hand I’ve signed my name on the inside front cover and become an author.  And the balmy moist breezes blew over the watering hole and I said, Ahhhhhh.

So hang in there my little chickadees.  You’re nearer the oasis then you think.  See you at the watering hole.

Love,
The Fat Chick

Well it’s the second full week of January and by now I’ll bet some of the shine has fallen off those New Year’s resolutions.  You know, the ones you fervently spout while sipping (or slurping) champagne on New Year’s Eve.  And also the ones you whisper as you nurse your hangover on the first morning of the year.  Yeah those are the ones I’m talking about.  And while you’re still enjoying the shiny, new, I can be a size 4 by February resolution fantasy it can be a little hard to talk to you.  Believe me, I know exactly what that’s all about.  But now that you’ve had a few weeks to think about it, and to allow reality to filter in allow me to offer you an alternative.

This year, a lot of folks in the fat acceptance and health at every size communities (including me) decided to create a “New Year’s Revolution” instead of resolutions.  This year, for every day in the month of January, we’re focusing on a way to love, nurture and care for the bodies we already have rather than trying to change them into something else.  It’s super fun and super cool.  You can find out more about it HERE.

I hope you check it out.  The idea of loving and caring for yourself may be revolutionary, but at another level, it’s just common sense.  Viva la revolution!

Love,
The Fat Chick