There are 1,257 words beyond this point. This blog will take the average adult reader approximately 4.5 minutes to read. You might be able to consider this something of a part 2 to “Unwanted” (and other lies I believe).
I have had a serious case of writers’ block for about two months now. Generally, when this happens, it’s because there is something I need to write that I’m not writing. It is called writers’ block for a reason—there is literally an obstacle, a blockage, in the outward flow of words. A few nights ago, I was confronted with my obstacle.
I do not want to write this. But I also know I will not be able to continue if I don’t. This blog feels scattered to me—I am not sorry. I am still scattered.
It’s been a while since I’ve done this, but before I begin, I want to invite you to shut up. Read. Sit with me in this. I don’t want your platitudes or condolences or comforts, no matter now well-meaning they may be. Sit with me—in silence—observe how your own soul identifies with mine—receive this. Trust that the Holy Spirit is a sufficient comforter for me—and for you. Continue reading
There are about 1,660 words beyond this point. This blog will take the average adult reader about five and a half minutes to read.
Fat is not the worst thing you can be.
It really, really is not.
And if you really stop to evaluate your deepest darkest fear, I think you’ll agree with me. When you delve deep into the fears you harbor that have never escaped your lips—I doubt if “fat” will be on that list.
No, fat is just the thing you openly fear—and therefore mock. Fat is just the thing you make out to be the worst thing to the people around you. Maybe it’s something you think you are. Or maybe it’s something you’re trying fervently to avoid—or perhaps you try to look like you’re trying to avoid it.
“Oh my gosh I’m so fat.” she says, as she eats something unhealthy.
“I need to lose fifteen pounds.” she says, as she denies a treat.
“Gotta lose the beer belly.” he laughs at a party.
“OMG have you seen so-and-so? She’s put on so much weight. It’s unhealthy.” she gossips.
It’s never overtly stated as a fear, but when so many people express their need to avoid it, it seems to amount to that. Those are a few of the many ways I’ve heard this fear of fatness expressed—in my presence. In the presence of your actually obese loved one. Or maybe in the presence of an overweight stranger—who is also loved. Continue reading
There are about 1,160 words beyond this point. This blog will take the average adult about four minutes to read.
“You’d be a really pretty girl if you just lost a few pounds.”
I’ve heard this countless times in my life. It happened most when I was a cashier at a grocery store. It happens from time to time when I’m just being overweight in public view. It still happens—and I’ve lost more than a few pounds, but am still certainly overweight. I wrote about this in more detail in The way we talk about overweightness needs to change. Continue reading
There are approximately 1,650 words beyond this point. This blog will take the average adult reader approximately six minutes to read.
I grew up in a small town in northwest Washington State.
I thought racism was dead, like the history books said. Like my white teachers taught. And as far as I could tell, in my white community—there weren’t any racial issues. In the 2010 census, my town was 91% white, and 0.4% African American—and that was six years after I left the town, and they’ve been (tongue-in-cheek) trending toward a more diverse population for decades.
This blog will take the average adult reader about four minutes to read.
The premise of this blog is this: I am not a dude.
I’ve been treated dudely since I was a kid. (Yes, I just turned “dude” into an adverb. Deal with it.) My mother will recount the story of how I came home from school from the first day of kindergarten—after she bought me all dresses (and I apparently loved them)—and demanded pants as my primary butt coverer. My favorite toy in elementary school was my roller blades. I wanted to be a speed skater. I wanted to run the Iditarod. I joined my first sports teams in the second grade. From then until the time I graduated from high school, I played basketball, volleyball—and twelve years of softball. I wanted to be the first female to pitch for the Mariners. (I’ve since let go of that dream.)
There are 1,585 words beyond this. It will take the average adult reader approximately six minutes to read.
I do not believe being overweight is sinful. As an overweight female Christian, however, I can tell you three specific things about my own personal obesity:
- It was and is, in part, caused by medical issues.
- It was and is, in part, caused by others’ sin.
- It was and is, in part, caused by my own sin.
I do not believe that the excess weight on my body is actually sinful. However, I do acknowledge the role sin—and this fallen fucking world—has had on my body.
There are 1,328 words beyond this point. This blog will take the average adult reader about 5 minutes to read.
So long as the body precedes the soul, equality cannot exist.
So long as we see people primarily as the bodies they inhabit, rather than the souls that they are, there will never be equality of any kind.
This specific thought, “So long as the body precedes the soul, equality cannot exist.” came about in my head after spending some time over the last few years thinking about how the porn industry feeds misogyny. Porn reduces the actors of it to their bodies—and nothing more. Porn consumers’ actions say to the actors, “Your personhood—your soul—you—do not matter to me, because you are nothing more than a body.”