#several conversations about someones friend always getting into toxic relationships front and center

[thatsgonnaleaveamark]

people who just.. have full conversations at concerts. why

[c-ptsdrecovery]

Today I took the Big Five Personality test (i’ve taken it several times before). I’m looking at the definitions for the five traits, and thinking about how they interact with my C-PTSD.

Openness

Openness describes a person’s tendency to think in abstract, complex ways. High scorers tend to be creative, adventurous, and intellectual. They enjoy playing with ideas and discovering novel experiences. Low scorers tend to be practical, conventional, and focused on the concrete. They tend to avoid the unknown and follow traditional ways.

Openness is strongly related to a person’s interest in art and culture. People who are high in openness tend to enjoy the arts and seek out unusual, complex forms of self-expression. People who are low in openness are often suspicious of the arts and prefer to focus on more practical pursuits.

I score high on this, which surprises me a little, given how conventional my parents are and how much they tried to squelch my individuality. But I guess my natural creativity and intellectual curiosity couldn’t be squelched. :)

Conscientiousness

Conscientiousness describes a person’s ability to exercise self-discipline and control in order to pursue their goals. High scorers are organized and determined, and are able to forego immediate gratification for the sake of long-term achievement. Low scorers are impulsive and easily sidetracked.

The concept of Conscientiousness focuses on a dilemma we all face: shall I do what feels good now, or instead do what is less fun but will pay off in the future? Some people are more likely to choose fun in the moment, and thus are low in Conscientiousness. Others are more likely to work doggedly toward their goals, and thus are high in this trait.

I score high on this. It might be related to the fact that my family was SUPER DISCIPLINED and made me so, too. On the other hand, some people respond to stress with procrastination and impulsivity, so.

Extraversion

Extraversion describes a person’s inclination to seek stimulation from the outside world, especially in the form of attention from other people. Extraverts engage actively with others to earn friendship, admiration, power, status, excitement, and romance. Introverts, on the other hand, conserve their energy, and do not work as hard to earn these social rewards.

Extraversion seems to be related to the emotional payoff that a person gets from achieving a goal. While everyone experiences victories in life, it seems that extroverts are especially thrilled by these victories, especially when they earn the attention of others. Getting a promotion, finding a new romance, or winning an award are all likely to bring an extrovert great joy. In contrast, introverts do not experience as much of a “high” from social achievements. They tend to be more content with simple, quiet lives, and rarely seek attention from others.

Now, this is particularly interesting to me. Because this is not how I’ve heard “extroversion” defined in the past. I’ve always understood that extroverts are energized by interactions with others (often lots of others) and drained by being alone, and that introverts are energized by being alone and drained by being with others. According to that definition, I’m an introvert. However, I score 79% on extraversion in this test, because I definitely value others’ opinions of me, often more than I value my opinions of myself. I would not call this “extraversion”, however: I would call this, “an external locus of self-esteem.” 

This particular trait is really complicated for me, anyway. Because my level of stereotypical extroverted traits (talkativeness, wanting to be the center of attention, starting conversations, etc) is EXTREMELY context-specific. When I’m comfortable and feeling like I’m getting positive feedback, I am VERY talkative. I start conversations with pleasant-seeming strangers a LOT, sometimes. And I LOVE being the center of positive attention, as long as I’m in a situation where I feel like it’s valid for me to be that center (because my “showing off” was a Capital Crime in my narcissistic mother’s opinion, so I’ve got kind of a complex about it). However, if I’m in a situation where I feel rejected at all, I crawl back into my shell like a wounded turtle. So I have trouble answering questions about extroversion and introversion to begin with! It depends SO MUCH and my responses end up on opposite ends of spectrum.

(Generally, I describe myself as “a big-mouthed introvert.” I desperately need lots of alone time, but I LOVE to communicate. Thus my adoration of the internet. lol)

Agreeableness

Agreeableness describes a person’s tendency to put others’ needs ahead of their own, and to cooperate rather than compete with others. People who are high in Agreeableness experience a great deal of empathy and tend to get pleasure out of serving and taking care of others. They are usually trusting and forgiving.

People who are low in Agreeableness tend to experience less empathy and put their own concerns ahead of others. Low scorers are often described as hostile, competitive, and antagonistic. They tend to have more conflictual relationships and often fall out with people.

While I scored high on this (77%), this is my lowest of all five scores. Which is funny, because I get the impression that other people’s impression of me is that I’m EXTREMELY agreeable. (Heck, I was occasionally referred to in high school by people who didn’t know my name as “The Nice One”!)

I think the reason my agreeableness score isn’t as high as my others is twofold. The first issue is that I feel a lot more empathy than I do drive to care for others. I feel other people’s feelings a LOT. However, I also frequently find other people’s negative feelings overwhelming. If I’m in a situation where there isn’t anybody else to help, or where I would be expected to help, I jump in and help (a friend really needs help with a task and has no one else to ask. Someone falls down and scrapes their knee right in front of me. etc). I expend a lot of emotional energy doing this.

However, if I’m in a situation where someone else can step in, or where I wouldn’t be expected to help, I often don’t help (sometimes seeing someone in distress online, etc). So I tend to score myself a little lower on this than I might otherwise do.

But that brings me to the other reason my score isn’t that high: because I’m scoring MYSELF. It may be that my standards for how much I SHOULD be giving of myself to others is waaaaay higher than it needs to be (in fact, I’m almost sure it is). Hardly surprising, considering I grew up with a narcissistic mother who thought I should constantly be putting HER first and I should therefore NEVER be first. When you grow up being taught that self-abnegation is your primary duty, you tend to feel bad about yourself whenever you’re doing basic self-care. It’s pretty twisted.

Anyway, I think this is a failing of the entire test as a whole: it’s based on self-perception. I think our perception of ourselves is often skewed. And I think it’s particularly skewed for those with childhood emotional abuse/neglect. Because one of the things that good enough parents do (that toxic parents do not) is reflect to their children an accurate view of themselves. If your parents gave you a skewed view of yourself, or refused to reflect upon you at all, it’s hardly surprising you’d have trouble accurately evaluating yourself.

Neuroticism

Neuroticism describes a person’s tendency to experience negative emotions, including fear, sadness, anxiety, guilt, and shame. While everyone experiences these emotions from time to time, some people are more prone to them than others.

This trait can be thought of as an alarm system. People experience negative emotions as a sign that something is wrong in the world. You may be in danger, so you feel fear. Or you may have done something morally wrong, so you feel guilty. However, not everyone has the same reaction to a given situation. High Neuroticism scorers are more likely to react to a situation with fear, anger, sadness, and the like. Low Neuroticism scorers are more likely to brush off their misfortune and move on.

I have PTSD. My neuroticism score is necessarily going to be high. “Neuroticism” basically measures emotional stability, and those with mood disorders or most kinds of mental health problems are obviously going to have a lower score on emotional stability. That being said, I think it’d be interesting to take this test again when I’ve recovered from PTSD (some things linger for the rest of one’s life, but one can recover from the acute symptoms). My score might go down. It’s already fluctuated over the last two and a half years from a highest score of 83% (Feb. 2018) to a lowest score of 62.5% (Sept. 2018). And those two scores were only 7 months apart!

This makes me wonder about the validity of this test. The studies I managed to find on a simple google search about whether Big Five personality traits changed much over time all seemed to be very long-term studies: they test you very infrequently over long periods of time. Testing more frequently might show more instability in scores, which might cast doubt on the test’s validity, or even on the idea that these are actually personality traits (more long-lasting trends in behavior) or simply tendencies which could change a great deal within short periods of time

[bonelesswords]

a study of souls | alex høgh andersen au

- masterlist

gif credit: @lol-haha-joke

Chapter three: Megan

Warnings: Languae, sexual content, mentions and using of drugs, mentions of a toxic relationships, grammar mistakes (english is not my first language)

The university had started a week ago and it has been quite light. That's why after finishing my turn at the bakery on saturday afternoon, I take a shower and I put on my pajamas, ready to get into bed and not leve until the next day.

Only at that moment I feel like the week has ended, and it feels like a relief. When I walked out of the university on friday I could let out a long sigh, perhaps proclaiming victory, my first week had ended.

  I didn't want my life to revolve around the man I fell in love with a year ago,  but when I walked through those halls and climbed those stairs again, I couldn't help but think of him. The nostalgia hit me instantly, but soon it became anguish and fear. Fear of crossing William on one of those halls, who used to work there. However, he seemed to keep his word, he doesn't work there anymore.

By friday, almost sure that he wasn't going to appear in that place, the feeling of anguish was almost nonexistent, I hope that during the course of the year it disappears completely.

I hear the annoying sound of my phone vibrating against the wood of the nightstand beside my bed. When I take my phone in my hands I see the name of my brother shining on the screen.

"Hi June, are you already in bed?" In a mocking tone, his voice fills the earphone.

"Hi Rory, are you already drunk?" I ask in the same tone of voice of his, but unlike me, Rory laughs.

"No, not yet. But it's saturday, I'm calling to verify if you are aware of the said event or if you are staying home tonight."

"Yes, I think I deserve it after this long week."

"No, you don't!" He snaps and I can almost imagine him squinting "You are coming with me tonight, to a party."

"Is there any possibility to say no?" I ask.

"No, not at all. It's at Alex's, he said "bring little June, if she wants to, I bet she want to" ,, He says, imitating Alex's accent. I couldn't deny that the guy who had been flirting with me last week crossed my mind more than once this week.

"So that's my name now?"I ask, avoiding the question just to annoy him.

"Come on, June. I'm trying to get you a social life here, you know?" He sounds irritated, which makes me laugh. I keep quiet as if I were thinking about it, but I already know that the answer is yes.

"Okay, I'll go, but only if after that, you bring me home"

"Right, I'll be there at midnight, then, is that okay?"

"Yes, of course."

I wait for him to say goodbye so I can say goodbye too, but the silence makes its presence in his line. I know what comes next.

"How was week, June?" He finally asks. It comes out of his mouth in a strange but familiar tone. It reminds me of our aunt Rose, grandma's sister. I can count more akward calls with her than times that she came to visit us, I remember, even now, how grandma used to force us to talk to her everytime Rose called when we were kids and I was ten and Rory fourteen. Rose asked "And how have you been in school? What has Lucy cooked for you today?" All unimportant questions, until it seemed she was about to say goodbye, she used to pause first and then, asked that question that Rory and I hated so much " How are you two doing in therapy?" Rory had sounded the same way, and I couldn't blame him, I knew he didn't know how to ask that kind of questions either. He wasn't talking about the university, he was talking about William.

"If your question is that if I've seen any asshole, the answer is no, not any that I'm familiar with." I hear him laughing, almost relieved "But it was alright, better than last year. The only thing that I can hope for this year is cycle full of routines."

"It always can get  worse." He warns me joking and makes me smile.

"You are right, but I hope not."

"It's alright, June. See you later, stay out of trouble."

"I'll try." I say and then I end the call.

When I open my closet, my mind travels directly to William and that upsets me. It makes me angry to think about him when I do something I stopped doing when I was with him, like spend hours preparing for a party and wear night clothes. I wonder if, when he wakes up every sunday beside his wife, thinks of me. Me and all those weekends that we spend in the apartment that he had in the center of town, I wonder if the same thing happens to him as it does to me when I see these  little things and I automatically think in every bad decision I made last year.

Anyway, I am again the same girl who cared a lot about what I was going to use the next day in class, although it was less intense, I was just as dumb. Alex's smile is projected in my mind when I think about what I'm going to wear at night and my stomach turns.

Is it lipstick too much? No, it's not! But the heels that I've always used that are hidden somewhere in my room, they do feel like too much. Preparing to go out always feels like too much for a person with too many doubts like me, and at the same time it feels like I'm not doing enough for my image. For my image, what image? THAT WAS RIDICULOUS. The more I thought about it, the more wrong the decisions I had made feel, suddenly, to stay at home sounded better than going out and expose myself to too many eyes of people I didn't know. But no, I wasn't going to do the same thing that I did last year, I'm twenty one, not sixty five, like grandma. I wasn't going to go to sleep at midnight on a saturday. So I decide on a black top with long sleeves and skinny jeans of the same color, I put on my converse and I wait sitting on the living room sofa until Rory arrives.

When I receive a text from him saying that he's outside, I leave the house closing the door behind me. I sit on the passenger seat and I say hi to him.

Rory talks about his job, at the car shop, talks about cars as if I understood, but I pretend to do it, like he does when I talk about the university.

"Is everyone going to be there?"

"Yes, otherwise I wouldn't go."

"Is Helena going too?" I ask with a curious tone in my voice.

"Yes, why?" He frowns but in the moment that he turns his head and looks at me, with raised brows and a smile on my face, he understands. He rolls his eyes, trying to hide a smile.

"Is it that I know you too well or that you are very obvious, Rory? I think both." Rory looks at me horrorized, with eyes as big as dishes and I burst into a laughter.

"Am I?" He asks and I shake my head.

"No, I'm kidding. I don't think you are obvious but if you are, what about it? I mean, sometimes it doesn't have to be a problem to demonstrate that you are into her. Because, to be honest, you are an attractive guy, If you show interest in her, maybe she will do the same.

"Do you think?" He asks, almost hopeful

"Yes, I think. Go with the flow, that's what they say."

"I hope they are right, then" He says, making me laugh, this time a little bit worried.

Rory parks in front of the bar and when we are both standing on the street, he stars talking about how I must not accept drinks from anyone, as if that wans't something I learned when I was fifteen years old . Since the thing with William happened, it seems that Rory sees me as a girl of fifteen years old again.

He pulls a bunch of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and opens the door.

"Why do you have a copy of the keys of his house?"

"In case of emergencies." He answers.

"And why do you have one intead of, I don't know, his brother?"

"I'm pretty sure that his brother has a copy as well. Besides, I'm his best friend, if his brother is not available, I am."

He turns around and once the door is open, hurries up the stairs. I want to ask him if Alex exposes himself to "emergencies" frequently, and If it is like that, what kind of emergencies. But Rory doesn't give me the opportunity to continue the conversation, he gestures me with his hand to follow him upstairs. When we are at the top of the stairs, on the right is another door and from outside I can hear the trap music that was already heard from the street, but when Rory opens the door of Alex's house, it explodes.

The room is dark and the only lighting is the lights that come from outside from the large window of the room, but nobody seems to bother. Above our heads, there is a large cloud of smoke that extends throughout the room. There are people playing the console in front of the big tv hanging on the wall, people sitting on the floor, on the balcony. I see a large L-shaped sofa where Travis, Julia, Jack and Helena are sitting.

Rory takes off his jacket and asks me for mine, he tells me that he will leave them in Axel's room. I nod and make my way to my brother's friends, who greet me with a smile on their faces, I sit next to Julia, who seems to be already bored of the party.

"You came!" She says, smiling from ear to ear.

"Of course, I think I was invited."

"I'm glad you came" Says when she sees my brother approaching to Helena and say hi to everyone. She approaches to me to whisper in my ear: "Because Evangeline couldn't make it, and I knew that in the moment that Rory arrives, Helena would be all eyes for him." She winks at me, I laugh. "Sometimes you need a partner in Alex's parties." She says through gritted teeth, too close to my face, adding drama to her words. Suddenly, I feel someone sitting next to me and an arm surrounds my shoulders, making me turn towards the person beside me.

"Are they that bad?" Alex asks. A side smile appears on his face when I look at him in the eyes and and there he is, in a white tshirt, with slightly messy hair. His eyes are red, as well as his swollen lips, it seemed that he had bitted them several times. His face is a little better since the last time I saw him, but it is still a little bruised. Even with the poor lighting I can tell. "Hi Junie."

"Junie?" I ask laughing.

"No, I'm not Junie. I'm Alex." He says and lets out a giggle.

"He gets funny when he smokes weed." Julia explains to me and I nod.

"Yes, but nothing else" confirms me and raises his hands, As if he were declaring himself innocent.

"He means that it is the only thing that the joint makes to him" She explains again.

"It's okay, Julia. I'm pretty sure June doesn't need a stoner translator." Alex cuts Julia and she laughs.

"Oh, no. My role wasn't a stoner translator, but a translator of idiots " She finishes and I burst into a laughter.

"Yeah, I had that coming anyway." Alex accepts and Julia nods happily, but turns when Travis shows her a post on Instagram. "But ey, you came! I told Rory, bring June, I bet she will want to come, and now you are here. Did you pour yourself something to drink? " He starts tripping with his words, and I notice him more awake and hyperactive.

"No, but I'm okay."

"Well, how bad then. Because I told everyone that if they wanted to come, their entrance ticket was a bottle of something, but now I have too many bottles of alcohol in my kitchen."

"Oh, that must be a nightmare for a guy like you, isn't it?" I joke.

"For a guy like me?" He repeats my words, a little curious.

"Yeah, you look like a party guy." I explain myself and he nods.

"Oh, right. I personally don't think I'm a party guy. They said "Alex, you should throw a party." And I said no, but they said "yeah, you should." And I said okay, but only if everyone brings their own alcohol because I'm not going to give free drinks to anybody, and now everyone is here."

"They?" I ask.

"Ah, yes, my friends, other friends."

"Then I don't know if you are a party guy, but you are definitely someone easy to convince. "

"Only when I'm high, the rest of the time I'm a pretty intimidating guy."

"You haven't intimidated me." I tell him and he looks at me with that smile that looked arrogant, and at the same time, totally charming. It makes me shiver how charming it is.

"That's because I haven't started yet." He answers me and takes me off guard. I roll my eyes, when I really want to scream on the floor. "I should have told your brother that if you wanted to come, your entrance ticket was a cake, since you work at the bakery, because after what I smoked I will be hungry."

"I don't give cakes for free. If you want one, you should buy it."

"Then I should go to the bakery one of these day, of course, only if you are there."

"It would be a shame if you go and find my grandmother."

"So which days are you?" He asks and I look at him for a second. I was sure that telling him what days I worked at the bakery was pretty stupid, it meant that I wanted him to go and find me. And perhaps, also, it meant allowing him to think that I would be waiting for him to go. And although it sounded stupid, I did it anyway.

"Weekdays in the afternoon, sometimes I help on Saturdays."

"I must remember that, then."

And that smile appears on his face again.

Little by little I go into the conversation that everyone is having, it is a little difficult for me to deal with Travis's internal jokes, but Julia is quick to explain them to me, which I appreciate, she makes me smile. So far, there is nothing out of place, and everyone seems relaxed. Although for me, there comes a time of the night when the smoke of the place begins to suffocate me a little and I have to go outside to take a breath. I let Rory know and he nods.

There's two girls in the balcony when I go out, both of them are too into their own conversation to notice my presence. I rest my arms on the railing. The wind hits my face and I appreciate it, it's cold but for a moment, I don't care.

Again, for the second time tonight, I feel the presence of the owner of the house right next to me, imitating me, resting his arms on the railing. He doesn't say anything, just look straight ahead just like me.

"I remember the first time I smoked weed." I say suddenly and he turns to look at me.

"Did that stay in your mind?" He asks and I shake my head.

"No, I'm just saying that to fill the silence." He laughs, turning his body a little towards me, I keep looking straight ahead.

"And was it good?"

"No, it was boring and when the effect was gone, I was too sleepy... I slept a lot that night" I answer "I remember that the effect hit different to my friends, they laughed a lot, it was fun. I didn't feel that until the third or fourth time, but I always end up more sleepy than anybody." I turn to see him "I suppose that for you it's different."

"I suppose, yeah." He smiles "For me, it makes everything a little bit chill in these kind of places. The rest of the time I don't need it. " He says and I want to ask him why he needs it in these places, but I don't dare to do it. He remains silent for a few seconds before speaking again. "Can I ask you a question?" I nod, a little doubtful, but he smiles again. "Why is Rory always so willing to take you everywhere?" he asks and I laugh loudly.

"I thought you invited me," I say in a smile.

"Yeah I did. Don't think I didn't. But it seems  a little strange to me that he wants to take his little sister everywhere with him, especially when he flirts with Helena all the time, doesn't he?" He raises his brows and I smile at the thought that everyone knows about Rory liking Helena.

"Yes, I know, I understand the confusion. Actually, he told me today, he wants me to have a social life again, that's what he said." I explain to him and he nods, a little bit confused yet.

"Again?" He repeats curious.

"Ah yes, again. Before New York, the university and everything, my social life was reduced to nothing. I could do it on my own, but he decides to speed up the process, I guess. "

"So he is doing well," he tells me "I mean, the guys like you. And me too, especially me." Our eyes meet, but I squint.

"You are an..." I start saying.

"I know, I know" He interrupts "you don't need to say it" I roll my eyes when I see how an arrogant smile makes its presence on his face. He rights himself. "You are pretty today." He murmurs and I sigh.

"There you go again."

"No, no, I mean it. You are pretty today." Somehow, he makes me smile. He sounds genuine, not like flirting or playing, which takes me out of balance for a second, maybe that's why I can feel my face burning right now, but the thing that horrifies me the most is that he can see it as well.

"Thanks, I guess" I manage to answer, totally embarrassed. A cruel little voice in my head tell me that that hour that I spent repairing myself worth it.

When we come back in, I sit back in the same place and Alex does the same. I look around the room, my gaze stops at a blonde girl, who stares at me, as if she throws knives at me with her eyes. Suddenly, she begins to approach while staring at me, I don't take my eyes off her, I frown, wondering if she has confused me with someone else or she is just high.

I realize that any of my two assumptions are incorrect when she is close enough to me, at the moment when without prior notice she sits on Alex's lap and plants a loud, red kiss on his cheek.

"I haven't seen you all night." She says to him and suddenly, I feel out of place, because Alex knows that I am and the girl who's sitting on him for sure knows it too.

I stare at Julia, who rolls her eyes and grabs my arm so I can get close to her and get away from Alex and his blonde girl. Then, she whispers "Her name is Megan." She explains and I understand the situation now. I whisper to her what Rory and Helena had told me about this girl, Megan, and how Alex got into a fight for her. I haven't seen her all night, but if I was being honest, I didn't pay attention to anybody since I arrived.

Alex and she begin to have, what it seems, a slight discussion. She seems to want to raise her voice but he asks her to calm down, and the only thing I get to hear is him telling her that this isn't a place for discussions. I don't want to keep listening, so I get up and go to the kitchen for something to drink.

I look at the kitchen counter and all the bottles of alcohol, not knowing very well what to do with all of that. After a few minutes, I decide to open a beer and serve it in one of the disposable cups that are there.

A pointed finger touches my back, causing me to turn suddenly. It surprises me when I see the same girl who was sitting on Alex a few minutes ago is right in front of me, looking at me with an almost friendly smile, almost. She is taller than me, and certainly more beautiful. I would never have wear that tight black dress that she was wearing. She has a smile who could kill anybody, and a body too. When such a girl stood right in front of you, it was impossible not to get a little jealous.

"Hello" She says slowly. I look at her for a few seconds before answering.

"Hello?" The insecurity sneaks into my voice and I have to clear my throat.

"I am Megan, you must be June." Megan introduces herself and I nod, I don't know why.

"Yeah, that's me. Do we know each other?" I know immediately that the words that have come out of my mouth sound a bit hostile, but she doesn't flinch.

"No, but I have a feeling we're going to" He explains to me and I want to laugh because of the nerves caused by the conversation, I have always laughed when I feel nervous. I immediately remember Rory saying that he doesn't like Megan, and that nobody likes her, not even Alex's brother.

"And why is that?" I ask curious.

"Well, you are Rory's brother, aren't you?" She asks and I nod -again- "And Rory is Alex's best friend, and, if you didn't know, I'm Alex's favourite girl, so, do the math."

What she says reminds me exactly at that moment of last week, in which Alex felt the need to clarify that he had no girlfriend, and I supposed that Megan knew that. It was not very difficult to realize what kind of relationship they had.

"Can I ask you a question?" The tone she uses in her voice does not go unnoticed, I look at her as if I could read her mind to know what she is thinking right now.

"This is the second time tonight that someone asks me that question, so yes, I guess," I answer and she laughs.

"Do you like him? Alex, I mean," I open my eyes wide, but she looks at me almost amused, which is chilling. What does she expect me to say?

"What?" is the only thing I can say, Megan lets out a little giggle.

"If you like him." Asks again "Look, I'm not dumb, I've been looking at you, my friends too." She starts to explain and I shake my head.

"I met Alex a week ago, I don't know what you are talking about." I answer with a frown. Her question seems out of place, since I haven't known her for more than twenty minutes, but she keeps smiling the same way.

"That didn't sound like a no."

"That sounded like an I met him a week ago, I don't know him."

"So the fact that you have been looking at him all night at all times is pure chance? I'm gonna tell you again, June, I'm not stupid." The hostile tone sneaks into his voice and she no longer looks at me in the same sweet way as she did when she introduced herself, on the contrary.

"I don't understand the point of this conversation." I interrupt her and she takes a step towards to me, trying to intimidate me, but it makes me laugh, and no because I'm nervous, laughter of actual amusement. How is it that she could feel threatened by me?

"The point of this conversation is that you should know your place, June. That's the point, I'm trying to be kind, it's almost my duty to inform you, stay in your lane" She is no longer nice, she is almost angry, irritated by me.

"Is that a threat, Megan? Are we still in high school?" I raise my hand and push her away, returning her to the same distance she was before.

"Take it as you like" she says ignoring my question "As long as it is clear to you"

She ends and stares at me, with an arrogant look, as if she expected me to leave so she can have the last word. I was never the type of girl who fights for boys, and although she seemed to be used to it, I wasn't going to start now.

"No, in fact it wasn't clear to me, Megan, tell me if I understand it;" I begin to say when she seems to be convinced that I won't contradict her at all. "you, who have a very close relationship with Alex, come to ask me, someone totally oblivious to that relationship, to know my place. What I believe, Megan, is that if he and you have such a relationship, both should know your place, not me. Alex and you."

Before she could answer something, even make a face, I surround her and leave the kitchen, feeling a little lost where to go. I didn't want to tell Rory that this girl, Megan, had irritated me and that I wanted to go, it was ridiculous. But I also didn't want to stay and have to put up with her looking at me all night as if she was about to kill me. Maybe it is a bit of a coward of me to run out of the situation, but it is not very smart to stay there either.

I approached Rory, trying to hide the bad face I had, the last thing I wanted was a scandal and look like a fool. So I leaned to where he was sitting and whispered in his ear that I felt bad, if he could take me home.

"Already?" He asks and at that moment I couldn't hide my bad face.

"Yes, already. I have girl problems." I lie, because it is the only way Rory would understand it, or not, but he wouldn't ask about it.

"Well," He says simply "Go for your jacket and I'll wait for you outside." He gets up from his seat and looks for his car keys in the pocket of his pants. I turn around and head to where I remembered Alex's room is. I go in and close the door behind me. There is a king size bed in the middle of the room and above them, lots of coats of every colors; It is going to take a second to find mine. On the two sides of the bed are two small drawers, with a lamp in each one of them.

I don't stop to observe the place much, the sooner I leave, the better. I walk to the bed and start to dig through all the black jackets I find, none is mine. I hear the door open and slam shut, I get scared, startling.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you" I hear Alex's voice, less altered than I had found him when I arrived. I nod, I don't even try to say that it's alright because it's not. "Are you already leaving?"

"Oh yeah. I think I was kicked out," I answer as I continue searching through the coats.

"What?" I hear him confused, I stop what I am doing to look at him. He frowns, waiting for me to answer.

"Your girlfriend" I answer with determination, I don't even know why I do it, I know she isn't, but I'm so upset that that's the only thing that comes out of my mouth. "She introduced herself, She said something like, nice to meet you, I hope to see you around but not really, you know, she even threatened me a little." the anger is noticeable in my voice and in the way I spit the words one after the other, that seems to take him out of balance.

"Megan?" It's all he says. I stir again between the coats.

"Oh yes, her." I say, and just in time I find my jacket among many others. I put it on and I face him "I didn't come here to be treated in such a way Alex, I shouldn't be dealing with girls like her just because you don't clear things up"

I head towards the door and he follows me with his gaze, unable to say anything about it, with worried eyes. He turns when I put my hand on the door handle.

"Thanks for the invitation, Alex. But I don't like being in places where I'm not really welcome," I say and then leave the room without giving him the opportunity to say anything.

[calumxkisses]

Will you marry me? | c.h.

pairing: calum hood x reader

genre: fluff

summary: just pure fluff of Calum proposing to you.

a/n: let me know what you think about it, I hope you’ll like it!

♡♡♡

A blow of wind enters from the big window at your right, waving the red dress you're wearing. A flower is stuck in your hair, its light color highlights the tan you took during these holidays: Calum's idea to escape your everyday life for a week of Hawaiian sea was exceptional, not just for your mental health, but also to further consolidate your bond.

Of course, dates and vacations with the others had been a key point in your relationship, but nothing was like this week away from any kind of toxicity, in your little bubble of love. After your candlelight dinner, to celebrate your third year together, Calum asked you to wait a few seconds in your hotel room, while he finishes to prepare "something".

After your last relationship - in which you found out your ex boyfriend in bed with 'just a friend' (how he usually refereed to one of his female friends) on your anniversary day - you thought you weren't ready to start something new with someone else.

Your mind was caught up in a 'not fall in love' state and your heart was still broken - even though your eyes weren't red and puffy anymore - when you met Calum for the first time.

You already knew who he was, his Instagram profile was always tagged in Andy's photos, your long time friend, but you didn't know Calum in person, how he really was despite is job.

When you first saw him, you were sit on Andy's stairs in the backyard while the party was going on inside his house; Calum was in front of the grill with Ashton, he was holding a beer in his right hand while a deep laugh was coming out of his body. Your gaze was on him but your mind was somewhere else until an hand shaked in front of your face. You shaked your head and looked up, meeting brown eyes.

"Is everything fine?" he asked with a soft voice.

"Yeah, sorry. I spaced out."

"Oh, okay. Sorry that I bothered you."

"No no, you didn't. It's just-" you couldn't even finish the phase that your eyes started losing tears; his first time holding you was right after that first sob, causing you to feel safe. How could a complete stranger make you feel so protected? Part of you was sure that it was only because he wasn't your ex boyfriend but in the deep, the other part of you knew that there was something different.

"I'm sorry I-"

"Don't worry, I don't need to know... just remember that everything is going to be fine." and since that, everything really went fine.

For the rest of the night, Calum kept you company talking about his rockstar life and your sadness didn't come back, not even for a second, during that night.

The day after your first meet, Calum invited you out for a coffee. He was clear at specifying that it wasn't a date - after the night before you told him something about the reason why you were crying - but it felt like a date indeed. You both couldn't stop smiling and the world felt like a heavenly place. The conversation was spontaneous and your phones never were grabbed from your pockets. When he took you home, you expected him to kiss you - and you didn't know how to feel about that - but, however, he just moved a piece of hair from your face behind your ear and gave you a sweet kiss on your cheeks before telling you how he hoped to see you soon.

At your official first date, several weeks after the 'not a date’ coffee - in which you never stopped seeing each other - Calum took you out for dinner in a 70's inspired fast food. You didn't wanted something too formal since it wasn't the first time you guys went out together. After eating and laughing for a couple of hours, Calum surprised you asking you to dance on a song that someone put on the jukebox: you turned bright red and started to laugh before taking his hand and dancing the night away.

The first time you made love, you were scared. For you, making love has never been just sex, but something more important: it meant giving all yourself - your fears, your weaknesses, your certains - to someone. And Calum knew that. During the meet of your bodies, he never made you feel bad: he kept telling you how beautiful you were, how lucky he felt and how you meant so much to him.

And that night, while Calum was holding you close to him while he was sleeping, you thought about how everything felt right, for the first time. Because your ex boyfriend, after all, never made you feel that good with yourself; and you fell asleep happy, with a smile on your face and a heart full of love.

The worst fight you had was after a year and half of your relationship and it was about the tour - Calum wanted you with him everywhere, but you had your things to do and couldn't go with him at all their concerts. He was really mad and left for three days the flat you shared. The worst days of your life. You were heartbroken and you were sure that he was going to leave you. But 72 hours later Calum came back home with a bouquet of red roses - your favourite. He told you how sorry he was and how scared he felt to be away from you for a long time. You ended up making love and promising to each other that a bunch of kilometres weren't going to break your relationship.

The ringer of your phone wakes you from your memories. You look at the screen and notice that it's a message from Calum: come outside, princess.

As soon as you arrive outside the building, you notice a row of candles and red petals that show you the way to get to the beach. Slowly, with trembling hands and a beating heart, you follow the path until you reach a heart drawn on the beach with red petals and small photos of you and Calum. Bringing a tuft of hair behind your ear, you reach the center of the heart and, right at the center point, you see a particular photo that you have never see before. With a huge smile on your face and wet eyes, you pick it up and look at it with joy, putting your hand over your mouth to stop the sobs.

“Andy took this picture three months ago: it's you and me sitting on the stairs in the backyard of his house, I'm pointing to the stars to you but you're not listening, you're too lost at looking at me. I know i’m handsome, but i didn’t expect that much.” A little laugh comes out from your mouth as you look up; Calum is walking to you with a smile on his face. He’s wearing a white shirt made of linen and a pair of beige shorts. Sure to have your attention, he continues to talk.

“Neither of us has noticed Andy and this underlines even more how we are focused on each other. The world could fall apart, but as long as I have you and you have me, nothing else is important. The first time I saw you, in that exact place, I saw the pain you were hiding behind your eyes. I didn't know the reason for your suffering but I knew I had to take it off, i knew I have to show to that lonely girl that there is something good in this world, even if I didn't believe it. And you made me change my mind.” Calum is now in front of you and you can see how his eyes are wet too. 

He takes your hand and leaves a sweet kiss on it before holding it close to his chest. “You know, for all the things my hands have held, the best by far is you.” 

“I didn’t even know I could feel this happy, but since you came into my life, I discovered that there’s a kind of happy that I didn’t know it was possible to me to feel with someone else. I want to hold your hand, laugh at your jokes, walks by your side, talk about whatever and kiss your lips every single day.” His thumb removes a tear from your cheek and your eyes close at his touch.

“I’m the happiest version of me when I’m with you. Once I read how love’s about finding the one person who makes your heart complete, who makes you a better person that you ever dreamed you could be. And I’d rather have bad times with you, than good times with someone else. I’d rather be beside you in a storm, than safe and warm by myself. I don’t want to have amazing years with you and then it be all over in a flash. I don’t want to experience the feelings of hurt, confusion and disappointment again. No matter what we run into and no matter how hard things get, I want us to stick together. You think I saved you and your broken heart, but you were the one that saved me from my fear of love.” 

Calum kneels down, takes a deep breath and pulls a small box from his pants pocket. He opens it and inside there is a beautiful ring with a small diamond that reflects the sunset behind you. 

“I wanna marry you because you’re the first person I wanna look at when I wake up in the morning, and the only one I wanna kiss goodnight. I wanna marry you for what I become when I’m with you. I wanna marry you because I don’t wanna spend any day without looking into your eyes and hearing your laugh. I wanna marry you because you taught me what fighting for someone by its side means and there’s nothing else that I want to do. So, will you marry me?” 

Your throat dries up as rivers of tears keep falling down from your eyes. “Yes, yes, yes!” you scream before throwing you over him and kissing him passionately. And while he, with his hands trembling with emotion, puts the ring in your left ring finger, you can't wait to kiss his lips every day and to call him yours for the rest of your life.

-

[heathergoffrier]

Want To Make New Friends? Here’s The Good And Bad News

It's hard to make new friends these days-- you might wonder if it's even possible. Don't miss Heather's good and bad news about finding your new tribe.

I sat down at the round table and glanced around at the room full of ladies I didn't know. I needed some new friends and wanted to join a Bible study, so there I sat alone, excited but a bit nervous since the person who'd invited me had bailed at the last second. Everyone was very welcoming, but I started to feel unsure as I noticed people catching up and could tell who seemed to be besties with each other. How can I break into the group and get to know anyone? Will I be able to become friends with even one of them? Making new friends is incredibly hard. It’s awkward to be the one on the outside, or to have to start over with all the pleasantries of “where are you from?” and “what do you like to do?”  I’ve found myself in that position many times as a military wife. We’ve moved 8+ times in 10 years, and I constantly am back at the spot where, again, I have no friends living nearby.  Is making new friends even possible these days? What hope do we have if we don’t have any friends? Or what if all your friends are self-centered or too busy or majorly toxic, so you need to start over and make new friends?  I have good news and bad news. I’ll start with the bad stuff, so we can get it out of the way.  Like when, as a child, I would eat my peas first at dinner, because I hated peas (still do). But after that horrible taste, I was on to the ham and scalloped potatoes and homemade canned peaches. 

So You Want to Make New friends: The Bad News

I like to end on a good note, so here's the bad news. Making friends now is harder than when we were younger.  Back (way back) when I was in college, you could walk around and actually interact with people. Like, they would look you in the eye when you passed them, and maybe even say hi.  I got a cell phone when phones were making the transition from being “car phones” that people kept in their cars for emergencies, to smaller hand-held devices you could carry around. One day I was on the phone while walking to class, and my friend saw me and called me a “Cali girl.” (No offense if you're from California. I guess Oregon always got our trends second-hand from the Sunshine state.)

Back in the days of school and sports teams it was so much easier to find friends! What It's Like Now Fast forward to today, and does anyone even look at you when you walk by? Most pedestrians have headphones or are looking down at their phones at all times. Good luck trying to make a connection with someone in passing! Not to mention, now that we’re past college age, we don’t have those automatic school friends we met in classes, on teams, and in the dorms.  Where do we meet people now? Everyone is so busy, it’s hard to get together with people you do meet  I’ve got a meeting. My kid has basketball. Your husband just got back from a work trip so you'd like to spend time with him. The list of reasons are endless that we often can’t make a friend date happen.  And it’s not just me. The New York Times posted that “As people approach midlife, the days of youthful exploration, when life felt like one big blind date, are fading. Schedules compress, priorities change and people often become pickier in what they want in their friends.” Friendship doesn’t seem like as much of a priority anymore. Or is it that everyone already has their friends?  You might be in a situation where you have to stay home It’s definitely easier to make friends when you can have a flexible schedule to meet up whenever and wherever. But that’s not a reality for us moms with young kids. And it’s certainly not happening during the season of quarantine i.e. stuck within the four walls with crazy children. This season of life is challenging and can severely limit our social lives. DON'T MISS MY INCREDIBLE RESOURCE LIBRARY OF FREE PRINTABLES! GET ACCESS BELOW:

YES- GIVE ME ACCESS!

You Want To Make New Friends: The Good News

So, after all that, what's the good news? Making and having friends is still important  Maybe now more than ever, we need relationships-- specifically friendships. It’s easy to get into a routine and never stop to invest in relationships. You can get by fine until a certain point when disaster strikes, or you just need to vent, or you’ve been so cooped up in your home that you see your postal worker as your soon-to-be best friend. Where do you turn for support at that point?  We need friends and family for that basis of support. But that doesn’t just happen by accident. We have to make a little effort to get out there and interact with people, because relationships matter. In fact, one bit of research says that “70% of your happiness comes from relationships.” That’s a lot, but that's also a good thing. We don't have to rely on money, our status, or even our immediate circumstances to determine our happiness. God created us for community, and to rely on Him for our complete satisfaction in life. He created us to be relational beings (70% of our happiness from our connectedness, remember?) who thrive on interactions with others. If relationships matter that much, it’s time we make it a priority to make new friends and foster the ones we have.

People are lonely (here’s why that’s good) NPR posted that according to a recent study, “More than three in five Americans are lonely, with more and more people reporting feeling like they are left out, poorly understood and lacking companionship.” And, the study “found a nearly 13% rise in loneliness since 2018.” It’s easy to believe that everyone else has their tribe of gal pals, but the reality is that most people are feeling as lonely as you are.  And if you're wondering how to make friends when you have none, you can know that you're not the only one who feels that way. Which is actually good news, because it means that the majority of people you see would love the chance to make a new friend-- could it be you?  Even when you can’t leave your house, it’s still possible to make new friends. The other day, when I’d been stuck in my house going on three weeks, I saw a mom and two kids in the street in front of our house. I had to restrain myself from going out and treating them like my long lost friends and asking them a million questions. I didn’t know I was that starved of human interaction. I didn’t actually go out and talk to them because (besides restraining myself) I had to wrangle the kids, but it’s a great idea to pop outside when you see a potential friend on a walk with the kids.  Friendships are built on commonality, so if you see a fellow mom strolling nearby, there’s nothing wrong with stepping out on your porch and saying hi. If you ask a question, they might stick around for a conversation, and you’re off! Wondering how to make close friends while stuck at home? Here are a few ways: Join Facebook groups that have people with common interests (moms, artists, sports nuts, whatever your jam)Become more active in commenting and interacting on Facebook or Instagram friends' feeds.Develop your acquaintances into friends by starting conversations either online, via text, or on an app like Marco Polo.Ask family or current friends to connect you to others with like interests. When you meet someone, be sure you have a copy of my free cheat sheet, “21 Conversation Starters,” plus it includes the secret sauce “8 Skills for making friends as an adult.” Then you’ll know exactly what to say to keep the conversation going! You can get them here:

SEND ME THE CHEAT SHEET Recognize that you have many qualities people would like in a friend  Do you ever get down about yourself and think that no one would like you, or no one could ever relate to you? Guess what-- it’s not true. You may have weaknesses that aren’t desirable, but so does everyone else. Maybe you’re into something that’s not mainstream. Oh well. That’s part of what makes you unique.  When you focus on being your true self, you’ll be drawn to some and not to others. Others will feel the same about you. You don’t need everyone to like you to have amazing close friends. You just have to find the people with whom you have things in common. To prove it, try this: Think of something unique you like, that you think not many people like. Go to Google and type “who likes __(that thing)____.” For example, "who likes turtlenecks?" Surprised? Many people like you are out there. Now you just have to find them. RELATED: 8 SKILLS THAT WILL HELP YOU MAKE FRIENDS AS AN ADULT

You can gain confidence to make friends What if you’re paralyzed with fear? What if you just can’t put yourself out there? You can grow. It takes baby steps. You’ll never get friends if you don’t try. It might take a while, but if you keep trying, deep, strong friendships can happen for you. I used to worry a lot about what people thought of me. When someone criticized me, their comments crushed me but I either hid it,  or I snapped back angrily. My confidence was shaky and I would obsess for days over any rude comment toward me. But I learned that my identity is not in what other people think, say, or believe about me. My identity comes from what God says about me and who He’s made me to be. When I live in that truth, I have more confidence to make friends because I know that I have something to offer to the relationship. And I believe that I’m valuable enough to get to know. And you are too.

You can find your tribe.

Where do I go from here?

I’m glad you asked. As far as I can tell, the good news outweighs the bad when it comes to making friends.  You can have so much hope when it comes to meeting people and building relationships. And just in case you doubt me, I’m going to give you all the resources that I can to help make it happen for you.  This post is the first post in a series of articles about making new friends.   I’m calling it  the “Make New Friends” blog series. My goal in these posts is to help you gain confidence and take steps to actually make new, better, deeper friendships.  Stay tuned for future posts such as: How to make new friends when you’re stuck at homeHow to build an acquaintance into a friendHow I made new friends quickly after our last move (and how you can too) And more! I can’t wait to share these tips and tricks with you. While you wait, be sure to grab your free cheat sheet with 21 Conversation Starters and the secret sauce of 8 Skills for making friends as an adult. You can get them here:

SEND ME THE CHEAT SHEET Read the full article

[curiousfancy]

A decade of being fat positive

I recently realised that 2017 marks 10 years that I’ve been practicing fat positivity. It’s a slightly overwhelming thought. For one, I’m still convinced that 2007 was 5 years ago, so it’s a bit disorienting to discover that nope, it’s been a whole decade. Living a fat positive life for that long also means that I haven’t had to think about it very much in the past several years. It’s who I am, and fat positivity is just something I do, like sleeping or breathing. But a 10 year anniversary feels like a good time to take a look back and review how fat acceptance has transformed my life since that summer of 2007. 10 years ago I was still an undergrad with my twenties stretching out in front of me and no concrete plans for what I wanted to do in that time. I was also deeply unhappy with my body and consumed with the idea of trying to ‘fix it’ before I could fully embark on my life. I can’t imagine what a timeline where I didn’t come across the fat positive internet would look like because it changed everything - from where my life could have gone to where it actually did. I’ve talked at length about those early years - in fact when I think of the discourse surrounding body positivity, I find that most of it centers around those crucial first steps intended towards those who are just coming to grips with the idea of accepting their bodies. What I want to discuss, instead, are the long term results of living a fat positive life and how that’s played out in my case.

Fat Acceptance vs BOPO

Before I talk about the long term benefits of fat acceptance, however, I’d like to make the crucial distinction between what I call fat positivity/acceptance as opposed to what’s known as body positivity. Both these terms meant pretty much the same thing to me until the corporate takeover of the body positive movement in the early-mid 2010s which hijacked the phrase from its rad fatty roots and turned it into an anodyne, feelgood platitude. So when I say fat positivity, I’m referring to the core tenets of fat acceptance that I picked up from a tiny corner of the internet back in the day. It was very much a niche interest at that time, spread across a few LJ comms and standalone blogs. I spent those early years lurking on the Fatshionista LJ and in comment threads on Shapely Prose, following second generation fat activists like Lesley Kinzel and Substantia Jones. What stands for body positivity now wouldn’t have come into being without the foundational work laid out by radical fat activists, something that the bopo trend continues to ignore and remain wilfully ignorant of. Similarly, it ignores the demographic who built the movement in the first place - people on the larger end of fat, people who suffer the worst of systemic fat discrimination.

I also understand my rather awkward position in talking about this as someone who’s always been on the smaller end of fat by Western standards but pretty much on the opposite end of the scale in the Indian subcontinent. The face (rather body) of bopo looks closer to my own than that of people who bear the brunt of fat prejudice. However, when fat prejudice succeeded in destroying my life, it wasn’t because I suffered from disordered eating and body image issues. It was because the size of my body made me an outcast in the society I grew up in and continue to live in today. I still can’t walk into a doctors and expect treatment instead of prejudice, and when I want new clothes I have to resort to tailoring or shopping online, that too from stores outside India. If I wasn’t lucky enough to meet my fiance, I would have resigned myself to a lifetime of stoic loneliness considering how Indian men have never seen me as anything other than a fat joke. Outside the romantic context however, I’d still be trapped under societal expectations about the size of my body had it not been for fat acceptance. Some of it, obviously, is stuff I can’t change. I can’t make plus size clothing magically appear in shops, and I can’t make the medical profession take off its fatphobic lenses and see me as a real person. But I can call out doctors on their bullshit now and demand the treatment I need because fat acceptance has given me the confidence to do so. I still get the stares and the comments that I always have when I go out of the house but I’ve learned to not let them affect my everyday life. I managed to cut off all the toxic friends and acquaintances who saw my body as a receptacle for their fat hate. I’ve set clear boundaries with my remaining family, who in turn have learned to not bring up my fat in conversation, ever.

Fat acceptance hasn’t changed the landscape I have to survive in, but it gave me the tools I needed to navigate that landscape and make something of myself while doing so. Over the years, I’ve been more than aware of my unique position as someone who’s outsized in real life but physically closer to the ‘acceptably curvy’ ideal that’s turned the online and predominantly Western body positivity movement into a farce. It’s one of the reasons I avoid speaking on the subject, because unlike the majority of ‘bopo influencers’ I’m acutely aware of the need for people who are fatter than me, more marginalised than me to be visible in the community. The reason I’m writing this today is that I feel I have something useful to contribute to the discourse rather than just saying ‘hey, my size 18 body is okay too!’ I know my body is more or less acceptable in the online community I’m writing this for, I know that I’m not shunted aside for my size the way very fat people are. But I’m not writing this from the perspective of an online-only persona, I’m writing this as someone who continues to stick out like a giant thumb in a population of rather petite humans, someone who very literally was saved by fat acceptance.

Unhealthy Fatty

I’ve been seeing some talk recently about certain ‘bopo role models’ making statements like “body positivity is fine, but only as long as you’re healthy!” (And of course, I can’t find a link any of these discussions now because I’m disorganized af when it comes to writing, so if anyone can link me up, please please do!) When I started practicing fat positivity, I was similarly uncritical of this concept of the ‘healthy fatty’. After all, I’d spent my childhood and teens being mocked for not being able to keep up with my peers, in dread of becoming the stereotypical sweaty, out of breath, token fatty in the group. Even as I tried to come to terms with my body, I clung onto the idea of health, or rather the public performance of it. I’d push myself to walk faster and longer than my thin friends, I’d climb stairs while somehow controlling my breathing so that no one would know how my lungs were ready to burst. Health was the currency with which I had to buy my humanity as a fat person. In its absence, I had no way of justifying my existence. I had a skinny ex with whom I’d spend hours walking around town on weekends, not once able to articulate the pain that put me in, and the days of rest that I needed to recover from it. It was only after my scoliosis was diagnosed in 2012 that I finally started letting go of the pretence. I’m not proud of the fact that I needed to succumb to chronic pain before thinking critically about health and fat. I needed to go through the experience of my spine giving up before I could accept that I wasn’t a ‘model fatty’, and make peace with a body that didn’t cooperate with my demands from it. Even a couple of years ago, I couldn’t have admitted to this publicly, but that’s why fat acceptance is a journey. I’m no longer afraid of admitting that I am unhealthy, that I smoke too much and eat horribly and don’t get as much movement as I probably should, and none of that detracts from my humanity. It doesn’t make me any less of a person. That’s what fat acceptance is. It’s not about health, and it’s not confined to a certain range of sizes. If I take shitty decisions about my health and my lifestyle, that’s all they are. I’m no less human than my skinny friends who smoke just as much and eat just as badly. My fat is not a reflection of any moral or emotional lack, it just is. Even after my 5 year long backache started and I had to adapt to it physically, I’d feel like I had to justify why I needed to sit or lie down most of the time. I don’t do that anymore. I demand my space because it’s my right as a human being, and I don’t care if anyone thinks it’s because I’m fat. Having to justify your basic physical needs on a constant loop ends up whittling you down emotionally. Fat acceptance was what gave me the strength to break out of that mentally erosive cycle.

The morality of food

Related to this is the concept of ‘good’ or ‘healthy’ food as opposed to ‘bad’, ‘sinful’, ‘unhealthy’ food. Although I spoke about eating badly just now, I used it to mean not eating as regularly as I should for the sake of my gastric ulcers. The first few years of my fat positive journey were mostly spent in unpacking and mending my relationship with food. Eating disorders can happen to anyone, at any weight, but in my case it was inextricably linked to hatred for my fat body. To heal my relationship with my body, I had to stop looking at food through a moral compass of pure vs. sinful, and allow myself to eat whatever I wanted and whenever I wanted it. These days, when I admonish myself for eating badly, it’s because I’m skipping meals in favour of work and popping ulcer meds to counter the pain. Morality doesn’t come into it, acute, physical stomach cramps do. Back in my early 20s, when I mentally sorted food into morally opposed categories, it wasn’t because of any imperative towards health. I keep thinking about a journal entry from late 2006 in which I wrote: “It’s not even about being healthy anymore. I stopped caring about health a long time ago. I know what I’m doing is not remotely healthy but I don’t care about that. I just want to be thin.” ‘Healthy’ food was just the stuff that I thought would help me lose weight, even when that meant living on watered down soup and apples. Most of my health problems these days are a direct consequence of those years of starving myself with supposedly healthy food when I was young enough to feel invincible. The contemporary trend of ‘wellness’ with its juice ‘cleanses’ is no different from the soup diets of the 2000s. Both have a single, unified goal, which is to banish the existence of fat, and consequently, that of fat people. Because the so called health concerns of being fat are seldom about health - it’s about the value of thinness in our societies and how well we can perform thinness in public.

Performing thinness

Performative thinness is what I used to cling on to before I came across fat acceptance. As a visibly fat woman, I had to give off the unambiguous message that my fat body was only temporary and I was paying the price for it by always striving to be thin. I’d never eat in public, especially not the kind of ‘bad’ food that would implicate me further in my fatness. At university, I’d be hungry for the entire day, and then go back home to binge throughout the evening in the privacy of my room. Sometimes I’d throw up, and when I couldn’t bring myself to, I’d berate myself for not being ‘strong enough’ to do so. I’d constantly talk about the diets I was on, they were my disclaimer, the shield with which I defended myself from being seen as an unrepentant fatty. Repentance, sinning, and guilt were the trifecta of words I would immediately associate with food - words which continue to form the mainstream vocabulary behind something as universal and necessary as eating. If 10 years ago, popular culture dictated that a thin person eating a donut follow it up with ‘Oh my god I’m going to get so fat’, bopo culture of the present day has simply replaced it with ‘Haha, I’m going to get so fat.’ Outside of radfat circles, being fat is read to be as much of a moral failure as it ever was.

In 2008, after a year of daily exposure to the fat positive internet, I started eating in public for the first time as an adult. My ex girlfriend and I would get absolutely blazed and then go to our favourite restaurant for a three-course meal with milkshakes on the side. Funnily enough, becoming a dedicated pothead is what gave me the emotional space I needed to actually put fat acceptance in practice than just reading about it. Before I started smoking weed, I’d spend most of my time obsessing over food. There was this engine in my brain dedicated to running over calorie counts and meal plans 24/7 while the rest of my thoughts centered around daydreams of fat and sugar laden goodness. But once I was high and the munchies hit, I couldn’t bring myself to care about portions or calories anymore. I ate for the sheer joy of it, I delighted in actually being able to taste what I was eating instead of gulping it down in pangs of guilt. These days, my relationship with food has but a fraction of that intensity. I love cooking and my baked goods are infamous among my friends, I’m forever hunting down new places for the best street food and cake, but food no longer consumes me. It’s a necessity and a delight, not a calorie controlled prison. I haven’t had to think twice about eating in public for the longest time - if there’s tasty food at hand, I’m going to eat it and that’s that. At the beginning, however, it wasn’t that easy. I needed to be in a stoned fug before I could step out of the house without having a minor breakdown about what people might be thinking. In those early years, self identifying as a pothead gave me the break I needed to withdraw from social conventions, including those which were imposed on my body. The haze of smoke that surrounded me formed a cocoon in which I could ensconce myself and finally grow.

Inside the cocoon

Before I was a pothead, I was just fat, nothing other than fat. It was all I knew about myself. Sure, I was smart, articulate, and kind, but mostly I was fat. Back then fat wasn’t the neutral term I see it as now. It was the defining curse of my existence, the stigma I could never shake off even during the worst of my eating disorder. But once I started thinking of myself as a stoner, that’s what became my defining feature rather than my fat. Outside my smoky cocoon, the rest of the world faded to white noise. I dropped out of my MA within the first week with no plans for what I was going to do next. All I knew was that I had to fix my head before I could emerge as a fully functioning person instead of the one dimensional being that fatphobia had turned me into. I spent close to two years detached from everyone I knew except close friends and family, and in that time I started reacquainting myself with the body I had and figuring out ways to thrive in it. Even though I’d always been drawn towards pretty clothes, I’d rarely had the confidence to wear anything that didn’t disguise my shape. Accepting my body as it was opened the doors to a thrilling new world that I’d never believed could be mine. I never believed I could wear a sleeveless dress in public until the day I screwed up my guts and went out in one. People stared and passed remarks as I’d expected them to, but with 2 years of fat acceptance to prop me up, being called a fatty didn’t devastate me the way it once did.

By the time I went back to uni in 2010, I was actively calling myself fat, and inspired by The BMI Project, tagging my fashion photos with ‘obesity epidemic’ on Flickr. Without the self assurance that fat positivity had given me, I’d never have had the courage to pack up my bags and move halfway across the world to start anew in a place where I didn’t know a single soul. Like I said earlier, I don’t know what the trajectory of my life would have looked like in the absence of the ‘fatosphere’. Those first three years of self renewal and remaking are the foundation stones of who I am today. It’s because I’d found that corner of the internet where it was okay to be fat that I was able to normalise the idea of being a fat person and living as one, rather than a secretly skinny individual who just happened to be ‘trapped’ in a fat body. That was crucial. Recognizing that as fat people, we are individuals in our own right, and that skinny isn’t some default state of being that we have to aspire to.

Accepting my changing body

My journey into fat acceptance didn’t end with calling myself fat, it was a foundational block but also a stepping stone. I know this is a journey that’ll continue for as long as I live because there isn’t a destination, it always has and always will be a work in progress. At first I believed that all I had to do was get to my set point and accept my body as it would be then and that’s it, job done. I figured that once I reached my set point weight, I’d just stay there forever until I got old, shrivelled up and died. But our bodies seldom follow the plans we carefully lay out for them. Mine kept changing. I gained weight and lost it and gained it back again, and somewhere down the line I realised that fat acceptance wasn’t just about accepting one version of my body, be it the smallest or largest one. Everytime I gained or lost weight, it would send me into a full blown emotional crisis. My body would feel disjointed and alien, and I’d have to go through the process of becoming familiar with it all over again. I needed stability to feel good about my body - anytime it was in flux, so was I. For fat acceptance to work for me the way I needed it to, I had to be prepared for change. I had to understand my body and not just know it, I had to be comfortable enough with it so that I could change in tandem when it did. In all the time that I’ve spent around fat positive and bopo circles, I never found the concept of having to love my body either constructive or helpful. The radfat ethos that brought me into the fold focused not so much on love as acceptance, and inhabiting one’s body fully and without apology. I don’t know if I love my body, I don’t know how I could love something that’s such an intrinsic part of me. Love needs distance to grow so it can bridge that distance, but my body and I work as one. When my BPD flares up, my body suffers alongside my mind. I neglect to eat, I push myself through my nerve pain instead of trying to treat it because at that point, I just need to spite myself. I can’t disengage one half of me from the other, they’ll always have to coexist the best they can. But I no longer work against my body the way I used to, with deliberate, focused hatred. I know it too well to hate it, and I understand it too well to not be comfortable in it. And I know it will change, with children and age, and I no longer dread that. I’m a little curious, if anything - after all, pregnancy is bound to be a thrilling adventure with my lumbar scoliosis. I’m sure my body will frustrate and confound me like it does whenever I have a pain flare and am confined to bed, but we’ll work it out. That’s what old friends do. And that has been the most poignant gift of fat acceptance - turning my once reviled burden into a vessel I can mindfully inhabit.

Finding mindfulness

In the last few years, I’ve found myself looking inward a lot more than I used to. Taking pleasure in the quiet things, introspecting more and saying only what needs to be said. I feel like I’m finally conscious of actually living, of being a living, breathing, thinking creature that’s conscious of existing in every moment. I no longer feel like I’m careening abruptly through life, with no clue as to where I’ll end up next and how. I don’t think I could have found this inner quietude had I not spent all this time trying to inhabit my corporeal self as fully as I could. And that’s why the bopo line of ‘intentional weightloss is fine if you’re doing it to love your body!’ strikes me as utter garbage. If I was still trying to push change instead of accepting it as it comes, I’d still be chasing an arbitrary goal, feeling unfulfilled and incomplete, ever so slightly hollow. I started out to accept my body in all its fatness, so far on the way, I’ve discovered mindfulness. So before I conclude, here’s the 4 point version of my guidelines to living a fat positive life.

1. I will not diet or practice intentional weightloss. Instead I will focus on eating intuitively and continue to rebuild my damaged relationship with food.

2. I will not be critical of anyone else’s body, especially when that person has less body privilege than I do. Neither will I engage in any kind of body shaming or weightloss talk, but I will shut down instances of such talk when I encounter it.

3. I will not conflate weight with health but I will try to be kind to myself and look after myself the best I can with the resources I have.

4. And lastly, I will not let my body stop me from doing whatever it is I want to do. I will live the exact same life that I would if I was thin instead.

That’s what it is condensed down to its core: living the same life I would have if I was thin instead. Loudly, aggressively if I need to, demanding my space when I have to. No less boldly than if I were thin. And certainly not waiting until I was thin. When I think of my fatness now, I relate pretty strongly to this quote from Michelle Allison. It is completely arbitrary to me because it doesn’t affect any part of my life outside of others’ reactions to my size. And I’ve learned not to expend much thought on those reactions - a key contribution from my fat positive ethos. The day I realised my life was happening in the here and now is the day it began. Without fat acceptance, I’d still be waiting for it to start, just as I was waiting 10 years ago.