You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise ...
I hope you are all having a wonderful week so far and staying as positive as you can in the tough times.
I finally got the chance to wear this lovely green Asos dress, which let me tell you, is a feat to get on and off. It's a very thick material, which can be tough to stretch, but once it's on, woah is it a showstopper. It's incredibly accentuating and sexy, which are the two things a girl can only hope her dress will do for her.
I felt this outfit was the perfect one to wear for my "soap box" post. If you don't feel like reading, then you can stop here, after the outfit details. I promise to go back to my happy demeanor immediately following this, but I have to get this off of my chest.
(Dress is from Asos' standard line. Shoes from Forever 21)
You can say all of the nasty, rude, hardly imaginative or even creative comments about me being fat or gross or lazy or not cute or whatever you can conjure up. But, I am not a victim.
While an army of internet commenters and women who are comparing themselves desperately to one another to determine who is smaller (and therefore better) goes on and on about women who look like me, I laugh to myself every time. Because at the size that I am, I look like many, if not most, American women. For some, it's a cold hard truth. For others, it's simply just the way it is. With all do love and respect I say, if you don't like something about yourself or your appearance, then change it. Otherwise, get over it and stop bothering the rest of us with your ridiculous observations.
I am tired of seeing this "us vs them" mentality. The "she's pretty BUT" or "she looks nice "BUT" followed by, she's too fat, too thin type mantra. Why do we care if a woman is a size 8 or 28? Why do we have to comment on every photograph of a woman about whether she is plus size enough or too skinny or too fat or needs to go to the gym? When did women become so battered by society that they have turned into the abusers?
I say with certainty that so much of this comes from victim mentality. I have been there and I understand it. But there is a difference between pointing out oppression and discrimination and resigning yourself to just wallow in your circumstance. Or worse, to lash out at someone else because you are unhappy.
The bottom line is that I am more than a size. I do not walk around every day dwelling on the fact that the number on my jeans is double digits. I don't introduce myself as "Plus Size Allie." I am just me. I happen to have black hair. I happen to have a birthmark on my face. I happen to have sensitive skin. I also just HAPPEN TO BE this size right now. It is a characteristic. It is a size. It is not my identity. I might change it or I might not. But you need to let it go.
I do not feel that society can shun me or tell me I can't do something because of my size. They can try all they want, but I refuse to be broken. I have been through that fire. I have been over a toilet with my finger down my throat. I have been to a dark place where in my mind the world is against me. But I changed my mind a long time ago. To conquer your own demons is a massive hurdle and a lifelong battle. I still stumble. But I refuse to place limits on myself and I refuse to be relegated to where someone else THINKS I belong.
I have God in my life, a great career, a man that loves me for ME (and not my size), a home, wonderful friends, an amazing family, a closet I love, goals, dreams and values. These are not dictated by my size.
Rest assured, it plays no role.
When I go to a store, I don't stay out of a department or a section because of my size. When I walk in a room, I am not worrying about whether or not people are trying to guess my size (they usually get it wrong anyway). It's not the first thought on my brain when I wake up, nor is the last. It's a non-factor in how I feel about the person I am fundamentally. Shocking? Maybe. True? Absolutely.
I'm not crippled. I'm not diseased. I'm not weak. I'm not emotionally damaged. I'm not a circus freak. I'm not a fetish. I'm not someone to feel sorry for. I don't need your help. I don't need you to motivate me. I don't need your diet tips. I'm not flattered when you point out whether you think I've "lost some weight." I don't need your fashion advice on how to find clothes to cover me up. I don't need you to marvel at how I find "such cute clothes for my size." I'm not dressing "so cute for a plus size girl" and I'm not a "pretty face" with so much potential if I'd just lose a few pounds. I'm a confident, complicated, driven, slightly neurotic woman who sees herself as more than an exception to society's rules. I am me and I am powerful.