#today I am making a hanging little thingy to hang some bikinis on

[introspectionera]

I am crafting and once again it involves shells

[fatcanadianmom-blog]

Its a Fatkini First

Today, I wore a #fatkini…for the first time at a public swimming pool…in my small townI was mentally prepared to start disregarding the stinking pile of bullshit that is called “flattering” and wear a two piece to the beach. However, the beach was to be outside, 2 hours from my home. Or only 40 minutes from my home but with a pack of my closest gal pals, as we simultaneously let it all hang out  for a photo shoot in the name of empowerment. Living in a small town was so cool at first, and it still is in many ways. Yet now that I am in the second year of my daughter’s life, I’ve gone to enough playgroups, church services, local splash parks and kids’ birthday parties to know that for every friend you have in town, there are three people whispering self-righteous judgements about you. Basically what I’m saying is, people talk. They talk whether or not you’re a size 22 and wear a distressed hot pink t-shirt that says “babe” across the bust to the playground. They talk whether or not your Facebook photo shows you confidently displaying your fat, stretch marked belly. They talk whether or not you walk into the kiddie pool with you toddler on a Monday morning, wearing a bikini. I have experienced some people distancing themselves from me since I publicly began this #bodypositive journey. I totally understand though. Fatness could be contagious. Better run to the health unit and get your vaccinations!In the city if you are doing something “different”, you are one face in a vast crowd, so you don’t really matter. You don’t get as much criticism. What I will say though, is that in my farming town, the criticism is typically whispering and “that girl is crazy, bless her heart” smiles. So when I walked into the pool today, I was hypersensitive to the glances between other moms, and the avoidance by all the males. I pushed forward, and as I submerged my fat body into the lukewarm water and all those insecurities washed away. Just as I washed the “give a fuck” off me, I got this amazing feeling of comfort, fun, enjoyment and presence. I wasn’t hiding. I wasn’t squeezed into some “waist tamer” garment with extra fabric to hide my bits. (Those skirt thingies are cute, but they are pretty heavy when wet!)  I looked at my 20-month-old daughter and was reminded that every moment of discomfort, insecurity, judgement, (heaven forbid) shame that I endure on this journey is worth it. The more I push these limits, the more freedom and enjoyment I find in everyday life. Moreover, my daughter deserves to walk into any pool and any room with the sound knowledge that her worth is not dependant on whether her body type is palatable to the masses. Change doesn’t make itself.You know why I do the #fatpositive thing? Because diets ruined my metabolism. They stole time and enjoyment from my life. They left me feeling so distrusting of my body, broken and ashamed. They had me convinced that I was weak, undesirable, and lacked willpower. Diet culture told me I was broken, and that it was my fault. I plan to help my daughter preserve her intuitive eating patterns. (We all eat intuitively as babies and young toddlers.) Fat activism is so important to me though, because without destigmatizing fatness, people will not quit dieting and relearn to eat based on their hunger and fullness cues. In the current social climate, my daughter could very likely grow up believing that fat is the worst thing she could become.  She could pump herself with whatever elitist, diet culture bullshit she can find, and run on her little hamster wheel until her feet fall off. Heaven forbid she develop anorexia, orthorexia, binge eating disorder, or an assortment of other health issues. How much of her life could she waste “logging her meal” or going to a nice restaurant on the first date and ordering the “rabbit special” only to walk out starving, and never know what the sea scallops and mushroom risotto would have tasted like. (Mmmmm, mushroom risotto.) How much of my life have I wasted doing such things?I’m working towards recovery, and I am putting in the work. For anyone who thinks I’m eating whatever the hell I want, as much as I want, and giving up on my fat body, you are wrong. This is my road to recovery from disordered eating and deep seeded body image issues. This takes a lot of work, and I am showing up for the work every day. It’s as much for myself as it is for my daughter. I look forward to the day that I don’t wait for oncoming traffic to pass before I put whatever I’m eating in my mouth, so as not to feel ashamed. Ashamed that as a growing, breathing being, I need fuel. Look, diets are bad, mmkay? and fatkinis are awesome and playgroup politics are just a reality I’m fat, and have no plans to diet. You can be okay with that, or not. It won’t change anything either way. The great thing is that I care less all the time about the opinions of others. I’m busy living my own life, and all I had to do was give myself permission to. Swimming today was a good time. My kid is fearless and I had to keep reminding her she doesn’t have gills. Tonight, I choose to feel pride in how far I have come, and excited for the long road ahead of me. 

[rouxlkid]

how bout 📖

����- tell a story

alright. today y'all are going to hear the story of the VRW, otherwise known as the vengeful robot wasp. so i’m in cape cod bc i go there every summer. my friend from brooklyn and i are hanging on the beach with my dad, her dad, and her younger sister. we’re having a good time, chilling and eating and all that good stuff. note that we are both wearing bikinis. so at one point, we notice that there’s a wasp looking thingy hovering around the food. this motherfucker is HUGE. easily the size of my pinky. it’s fat and black and scary as fuck. it has a pointy bottom and it was not fucking around. so i’m like ok. i don’t want to be near this gigantic motherfucker. he is scary. so my friend and i get up and slowly walk away.

and this little bitch comes with us. this hoe flies around and FOLLOWS us. we stop. it hovers around us. we keep moving. it follows us. this motherfucker is out for blood and it ain’t stopping til it gets some. so my friend and i make the logical decision.

we run.

we take off running as fast as my short ass legs can carry me.

AND THIS FUCKING ROBOT FLY WASP FOLLOWS US. STILL. EVEN WHEN IM RUNNING LIKE SOME USAIN BOLT SHIT. NO JOKE. AND THIS ASSHOLE CATCHES UP WITH US.

and he lands on my boob. like the side of it that isn’t covered by my bikini. and he just sits there for a few seconds. and then i feel a sharp sting.

it. bit. me. and it’s drinking. my blood.

so i’m like holy fuck this gigantic fly wasp is biting my boob and what the fuck am i gonna do. i decided that i was gonna flick it off and run. i count to three. one. two. three. i flick it off and LO AND BEHOLD. I FLICK IT OFF SO VIOLENTLY THAT MY BATHING SUIT TOP COMES OFF. MEANWHILE MY FRIEND IS LAUGHING HER ASS OFF. AND IM SITTING THERE, BLEEDING AND SHIRTLESS ON THE BEACH AND IT KEEPS FOLLOWINGME I RUN STRAIGHT BACK TO MY TENT WITH MY DAD AND HER DAD AND SISTER, FRANTICALLY GRASPING MY TOP TO MY CHEST. MY FRIEND’S DAD FINALLY CATCHES THIS FUCKING WASP IN HIS BUCKET HAT AND TAKES IT TO THE OCEAN AND DROWNS THE BASTARD.

my enemy is dead. my wounds are tended to. my friend can’t breathe because she’s laughing so hard.

the vengeful robot wasp is gone.

for now.

[frequent-phases]

Heart - Part 10

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After parent-teacher conferences, Stiles was royally pissed at Scott for saving Allison and not his dad, leaving me to be the messenger.

With a heavy sigh, I pulled out my phone as I walked into first period.

Thing Two:

Stiles still isn’t talking to me. Can you please tell him I’m sorry... again...

I rolled my eyes and moved to the empty seat in front of a pouting Stiles.

“He just said he was sorry again. I think this is officially a million times.”

“I don’t care, I’m not talking to him.” Stiles said, playing with his pencil, refusing to look up at me.

I have known Stiles literally my entire life, and he has been this angry only twice. The first time was when his mom died, he wouldn’t let anyone close to his and he drifted away from Scott and I. The second time is also what brought us back together, I was being bullied by Jackson and his clique, a regular occasion, but I didn’t want my boys to worry, so I never told them. One day it was really bad and I was backed up against the lockers, Jackass and his friends were taunting me, I don’t remember what they were saying, all I remember is that I was crying and when I tried to get away, I was slammed back into the lockers. But that’s when Scott and Stiles swooped in and saved the day, Stiles calmed me down, while Scotty scared them off. Since then, the three of us have been practically inseparable, until today that is.

I came back to the real world and glanced at the door to see Scott starring and Stiles with sad eyes before glancing at me, I responded by shrugging my shoulders and shaking my head. Scott hung his head and moved to sit behind Stiles.

“Still not talking to me?” Scott asked leaning towards Stiles, but Stiles just kept staring at the board, his fingers twitching on his pencil. “Okay, can you at least tell me if your dad’s okay?”

I opened my mouth to tell Scott that Sheriff was just fine, but Stiles sent me a harsh glare and I closed my mouth, apparently, he really wanted Scott to suffer.

“It’s just a bruise, right? Some soft tissue damage? Nothing that big-” Scott cut himself off and Stiles’ mouth dropped and he looked around like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “You know I feel really bad about it, right? What if I told you that I’m trying to figure this whole thing out and, and I went to Derek for help?”

Somehow, this comment made Stiles even madder, “If I was talking to you, I’d say that you’re an idiot for trusting him. But obviously, I’m not talking to you.”

“Well, I am talking to you. What the hell were you thinking?! You’re seriously taking control lessons from Mr. Creepy? I don’t care if you’re a werewolf, I’m gonna kick your ass to next week.” I said, leaning closer and closer to my dumb-ass best friend, about to hop out of my seat and inflict as much pain as I could, but Stiles stopped me and pushed me back down into my seat.

The bell rang and everyone dug around in their bags to get what they needed for class, except for Stiles and me. I was still turned around in my seat when I saw Stiles’ face twist into defeat as he hung his head before spazzing around in his seat.

“What did he say?” Stiles asked and Scott just smiled.

I walked out of first period, trailing behind Scott and Stiles.

“Wha- he wants you to tap into your animal side and get angry?” Stiles asked Scott.

“Yeah.” Scott said like it solves all of the world’s problems.

“Alright, well, correct me if I’m wrong, but every time you do that, you try to kill someone and that someone’s usually either me or Liv.” Stiles said, glancing back at me and I nodded in agreement.

“I know,” Scott groaned. “That’s what he means when he says he doesn’t know if he can teach me.”

“How’s he gonna teach you?” I said and Scott turned around and gave me a shrug.

“I don’t know, I don’t think he does either.”

“Okay, when are you going to see him again?” Stiles asked, flailing his arms.

“He told me not to talk about it. Just act normal and get through the day.” Scott said, totally avoiding the question.

“Scott, when?” I asked him as I grabbed his shoulder and made him stop to face me.

“He’s picking me up after work at the animal clinic.” He said simply.

“After work. Alright, well, that gives us until the end of the school day then.” Stiles told us, looking around before his eyes landed on Scott.

“To do what?” I asked, per usual, completely lost as to what was going on in the Stilinski boy’s head.

“To teach him ourselves.” Stiles replied before grabbing my hand and pulling me along behind him.

I walked into the cafeteria, I smiled and waved at Lydia who was on her way out and flopped down next to Scott who was hunched over, attempting to hide behind his history book. I rested my head on Scott’s shoulder as Stiles hit the book.

“I think the book’s making more obvious. Besides, she’s reading anyway.” Stiles said and Scott moved his book slightly to the side so that he could see both of us.

“So, did you come up with a plan?”

“I think so.” Stiles said, taking a bit out of his apple and I just shrugged.

“Does this mean that you don’t hate me now?” Scott asked, with hope written all over his face.

“No. But your crap has infiltrated my life, so now I have to do something about it. Plus, I’m definitely a better Yoda than Derek.” Stiles stated with confidence.

“Oh, please, if anything, I’m Yoda.” I said, giving Stiles my best offended look.

“What? Why are you Yoda?”

“Because I refuse to be Leia. As much as I love her, I would not be able to pull off a slave bikini.” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, Stiles made a disgusted face and Scott’s head whipped towards me, his jaw basically on the floor, obviously having no idea what we were talking about.

 “So, uh, are you going to teach me?” Scott asked Stiles, trying to focus on his crisis.

“Yeah, I’ll be your Yoda.” Stiles said and I could see his struggling to hold in his inner fanboy.

“Yeah, you be my Yoda.” Scott said, still having no idea that we were referencing Star Wars.

“Your Yoda I will be.” Stiles said, in the best Yoda voice I had ever heard, causing me to bust out laughing, but Scott’s face was completely blank, so Stiles tried to explain. “I said it backward.”

“Yeah, I-I know.” Scott said, still completely clueless.

“All right, you know what? I definitely still hate you. Uh-huh. Oh, yeah. Come on Liv.” Stiles said as he gathered his stuff and stood up.

“But I didn’t even get any food.” I complained, my heels clicking loudly as I stomped behind my spastic best friend.

“Okay, now. Put this on.” Stiles said, waving a heart monitor in Scott’s face.

“Isn’t this one of the heart rate monitors for the track team?” Scott asked as he took it and examined.

“Yeah, we borrowed it.” Stiles said and I rolled my eyes.

“You mean stole.” I said, earning me a glare.

“Temporarily misappropriated.” He said to me before turning to Scott, “Coach uses it to monitor his heart rate with his phone when he jogs, and you, are going to wear it for the rest of the day.”

“Isn’t that Coach’s phone?” Scott asked, pointing to the phone that I didn’t even know he had taken.

“That I stole.” He blatantly stated before I slapped him upside the head, earning me another glare.

“Why?” Scott asked us.

“All right, well, your heart rate goes up when you go wolf, right? When you're playing lacrosse, when you're with Allison, whenever you get angry. Maybe learning to control it is tied to learning to control your heart rate.” Stiles explained to both of us. Scott’s eyes got wide and I could see the excitement bubbling behind them.

“Like the Incredible Hulk?” He asked.

“Kinda like the Incredible Hulk, yeah.” Stiles said, trying to humor Scott.

“No, I’m like the Incredible Hulk.” Scott said with childlike wonder in his eyes. I grabbed the duct tape and patted Scott’s shoulder, leading him out to the middle of the field.

“Scotty, the Incredible Hulk is big and green when he gets angry. If you want to be a superhero, then you can be Wolf Boy.” I told him as I began to wrap the tape around his wrists.

“You just made that up, didn’t you?” He asked, his voice weary.

“You betcha.” I said as I ripped the tape and walked back to Stiles.

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted to spend my free period!” Scott shouted to us as Stiles started setting up the balls.

“Alright, you ready?” Stiles asked him.

“No...”Scott whined in response.

“Remember, don’t get angry.” I said and Scott grimaced.

“I’m starting to think this is a really bad idea.” Scott said to himself as Stiles put the ball in the net of his stick-thingy.

The first ball hit Scott right in the stomach and he hunched over, muttering to himself. Stiles giggled at Scott’s pain before grabbing another ball and launching it. This continued for a little bit before Stiles held out a ball to me and a wicked grin spread over my face.

“How could I resist this?” I laughed and grabbed the ball, quickly setting up and lobbing the ball right at Scott’s chest, hitting it perfectly and Stiles looked at me, mouth agape.

“Where did that come from?” 

“There’s a reason the Softball coach always wants me on the team.” I said with a huge smile that Stiles returned before he continued to let out his anger on our best friend.

“You know, I think my aim’s actually improving.” Stiles said with a small laugh and Scott cringed as another ball flew his way.

“I wonder why.” Scott groaned and Coach’s phone started to beep a little faster.

“Ah, don’t get angry.” Stiles chided as he threw yet another ball at Scott.

“I’m not getting angry.” Scott said to himself, bouncing up and down and preparing himself for the ball that Stiles had picked up. 

I noticed Jackson hanging out behind the bleachers just as the beeping from Coach’s phone started to get faster. I glanced down at the noisy object before quickly walking over to Jackson and turning him around so that he wouldn’t see Scott wolf out.

“What are testicle one and two doing?” Jackson asked as he glanced over his shoulder.

“It’s payback for something, probably a bet.” I said quickly, trying to change the subject. “So, I never got a chance to thank you for sticking with me and, uh, you know, making sure I didn’t get ripped to shreds the other night.”

Jackson’s head whipped around to me. “Why would you thank me for that?” 

“Because of my whole defective heart issue. If you weren’t there, I would’ve been in too much pain to think to hide, and ultimately would have gotten viciously murdered.” I awkwardly nodded as looked down at my feet, not exactly knowing how my long time bully would handle my gratitude. 

“Well, uh, if I hadn’t done anything, Lydia would probably have ripped me a new one, and, you know, probably cockblock me for the rest of eternity,” Jackson said with a nervous laugh.

“Olivia!” I poked my head around Jackson’s shoulder to see Scott and Stiles waving me over, so I patted said shoulder and meandered over to my best friends who were giving me a questioning look.

“Next time we want to test Scotty’s wolfy powers, let’s not do it in the open where ANYONE could see.” I said with a very sarcastic tone, gesturing to Jackson.

The bell rang and I took my usual seat behind Scott as Coach kept urging us to take our seats. I looked up to see Allison looking like someone had killed her puppy as she gave me a pleading look. With a smile, I grabbed my stuff and got up to sit in front of Stiles.

“Scott!” Coach shouted, causing both Scott and me to look at him, “I said take a seat, not get up from it!” 

“Uhm, you see, I was giving my friend here my seat so that she wasn’t just standing there when you started class.” I said, completely talking out of my ass as I took the empty seat in front of Stiles with Scott glaring at me the whole time. Coach just rolled his eyes and started to write the lesson plan on the board.

I was focused on getting out all of my supplies and going over my notes from the reading we were supposed to do when I was startled by Coach shouting at Scott.

“Thank you for extinguishing any last flicker of hope I have for your generation. You just blew it for everybody. Thanks. Next practice you can start with suicide runs. Unless that's too much reading.” As Coach shouted, I could hear the beeping of the phone in Stiles' hand slowly became faster and faster to the point where I was fully prepared to dive under my desk at any moment. Then the most unexpected thing happened, it started to slow down, I looked over at Scott and followed his arm behind him to where his hand was intertwined with Allison’s.

I smiled when I realized that Scott’s initial theory was wrong, Allison doesn’t make him weak, she gave him the control that he needed.

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