Pain WITH Love

One thing that women of all shapes and sizes deals with is pain. Its something we all have in common. All women hurt for some reason... and I bet you 90% of the time it doesn't show on the outside. Women are resilient, so we hold it in, put on a stiff upper lip, and move forward like nothing is wrong. But there is. May it be depression of any sort, self-esteem issues, an illness, an open wound left by someone else, they all hurt. We all hurt. So pain is the first thing we need to clean up in our Bikini Carwash.

I've seen a meme around where there is usually a pin-up girl of some assortment with the lines 'Pour yourself a drink, put on some lipstick, and pull yourself together.' I hate this. I really really do. It's passing on the message that when we're hurting we should make everything look like nothing it wrong. This is terrible, it feels terrible, and just a shit-head way to deal with your pain. We need to talk it out, research it, treat it, and THEN put on some lipstick and adjust our panties.

NO ONE knows whats best for you except YOU. YOU are the only person who has ANY say over how you should deal with your pain. As a sufferer of IBD; I can tell you that my pain makes me angry. I lash out at unsuspecting people, push them out, and wallow in my own inner filth until my delicious inner bikini turned into a pair of overalls, rubber poots, and a goose-down parka zipped up to my throat. Since being diagnosed, and being given control over my diet and medication, I'm back in a good place where my bikini is looking its best! Sometimes I put a robe on when I'm flaring up... but my bikini always shines through. I still get angry, because pain doesn't just go away. Its always there looming in the shadows like a seagull on a power-line just waiting to shit in your convertible. But learning and research is the pop-top to protect us from the shit-storm. If you're hurting for any reason: DO THE RESEARCH. BE PROACTIVE. LEARN ABOUT IT. The more you know the easier it is to confront and manage. Believe me... nothing triggers fear more than the unknown. This is true for ANY pain, be it illness or psychological imbalance.

So before you get a drink and throw on a pair of heels, put on your bunny slippers and pajamas. Make yourself as comfortable as you can. Take your mind off of what others might be thinking about you and think about what you think about you and what needs to be done to make you feel better. Only when you feel better will that lipstick and heels feel good. No one likes to feel like shit in a pair of peep-toe pumps. Or in ANYTHING for that matter.

I wrote this in 2013. I was glancing back over my main blog and stumbled across this, it was written as a response to some asshole calling me fat on a mutual friend's wall on FB.  It's essentially my body-image mission statement.  I will not shy away from the word "fat" because it is not a negative thing.  The word is harmless.  Let's make it not just harmless, but I want to examine why it's good.



My whole life.  No amount of going to the gym, healthy eating, exercise, bicycle, yoga, pilates, belly dancing, weight training, calorie counting, vegetarianism...nothing...changes my essential shape.  I've converted about sixty pounds of this fat into muscle, but I'm still not even remotely thin, and I probably never will be, and what's more, I don't want to be.  It doesn't trouble me.

I feel the muscles rippling under my generous padding.  I'm ridiculously flexible.  I'm strong.  I'm light on my feet.  I'm graceful. I'm resilient.  I literally carry my own weight, well.  I've worked hard on this body, and I can work hard with it. It's amazing what I can do.  Sometimes, I amaze myself.

Turns out, being fat is good for me.  Here's why....

I've spent a lot of time figuring out how to dress, and how to maximize the potential of my finer qualities. I'm beautiful, I have gorgeous eyes and a wonderful, genuine, generous smile.  So, I focus on smiling a lot, genuinely.  I love looking at people, and looking in their eyes.  My skin is velvety.  I spend a good deal of time making sure it stays that way.  My shoulders are sexy, so I show them off.  My breasts are amazing. I show them off.  My legs and ass are strong and muscular, I show them off.  My belly is soft and lush to the touch, I love touching it, and I love having it touched  It really does feel nice squishing about in my hands.  My narrow hips are surprising. They're bony and sexy, and they make very convenient handles.  I have spent a lot of time acquainting myself with my body.  It's a delicious sensual experience, it's a playground, and a temple.   It's both primal and refined.  It's all good.

I care about how I represent myself to the world.  I never want to be unpolished, or sloppy.  I feel like not only do I represent myself, but all women of a certain size.  Every morning, I get up caring about my looks, and how I show myself to the world.  I want to do us proud.  Not only that, but I want to look good for my guys. I want them to be proud to walk next to me, and show me off.  I want to turn them on, and I want to be attractive.

Because of my size, I've worked very hard to find self love, and self acceptance.  Many people never even think about this, but it's something that I have smashed myself against for many years.  I've arrived now.  I don't cringe at my photographs anymore. I don't shy away from full length mirrors anymore (in fact, I embrace them, so I can get a good look at the tattoos I don't normally see).  I'm going to the beach Friday.  I'm going to look hot as hell in my bathing suit.

Because I'm fat, when I was younger, I worked SO hard on being a good person that people would like no matter what.  I try to be tactful and charming. I'm fucking hilarious. I've studied great comedians, timing and delivery.  I was always fat, and I had no friends when I was a kid... so I read whole libraries worth of books.  I'm brilliant, I'm educated, and I continue to be well read.  Rather than hanging out and being shallow with the cool kids...I devoted every spare bit of time to learning learning learning.  I've watched scores and scores of good movies.  I taught myself to write, draw, and paint, and to cook.  Immersed myself in countless hours of exquisite music. I've learned the art of conversation. Without the distraction of banal social bullshit, I've also learned to be alone with myself, and relish my own company.  I've learned to never be bored.

Because I already look different, I never tried to fit in.  I've always been an outcast, so I thrived in that role, turned it on its ear, and made being the "outcast" something positive.  I physically stand out from the crowd, so why not embrace it?

I've learned who I can trust, I've learned more than I ever wanted to know about how other people view me, for better or worse.  I've developed lightning flash intuition.  Being fat has conveniently cut many people out of my life, simply because they had a problem with my size.  That makes things nice. Never a need to worry I'm wasting energy on the wrong people. They show their hand early on.

I've also learned to look past everyone's physical appearances, and all superficial criteria, and to not judge anyone by anything, ever.  Being judged hurts, I've learned.  So, I don't do it.

Because I'm fat, I've worked extra hard learning about nutrition and good health.  I have more risks to worry about, of course, which means I go the extra mile to keep myself healthy.  I take lots of extra care, with getting a balanced diet.  But, also, I love myself enough to eat with relish and abandon. Self denial is not in my vocabulary (about anything, really).  It's a fine balance.

Here's the thing about self denial.  I don't do it. Not for love, not for sex, not for just doing whatever the fuck I want.  I will never deny myself a worthwhile sensual experience, no matter how it shows up, and sometimes, that means food.  Or sometimes it means just stepping out of my jeans and wading into the ocean in my panties.  I love myself, and I would never deny myself anything. Just like, I would never deny my loved ones anything.  I won't turn down an amazing meal made with love. I won't speculate about calories, or potential consequences. If someone (including myself, because I love myself) fixes me a delicious meal, or takes me out..then I embrace it with full openness and really fucking live that moment, taking in every bit.

My Inner Bikini Carwash

You might be wondering... 'What, exactly, is going on in here?' We're having the Bikini Carwash of a LIFETIME, and you're ALL invited to join! Sounds a little risky, no? Well, let me explain...

First, we have to strip down and expose our inner bikini. That bikini represents something in all of us that wants to be seen, heard, admired, and empowered.

Second, we have to spraypaint our cardboard sign for the public to say 'BIKINI CARWASH EVERYDAY', we're all our best selves and ready to scrub down.

Third, we need a water supply and some soap. In this case words flow like water, we all need water or nothing gets clean, and water is the catalyst for washing away the weight of extra crap that we don't need. Soap, in this case, is the funny shit that makes bubbles and carries away all of the fucks we used to give and don't need anymore.

Fourth, the cars that come in for a cleaning represent our daily lives. Situations that my confront that need different treatment. Every car is different, and so are our lives. But they all get clean in the same way. A little water, a little soap, and a GLORIOUS woman in a mental bikini scrubbing it down.

And finally the last step... Sending the cars on their way after the service with a smile and a wave, because that job has passed, the fucks you thought you had to give about it are gone, and the only person left is you. GLORIOUS YOU. In your hot bikini, waiting for the next car. And with every car that comes and goes, you get better at cleaning them up, rinsing yourself off, and moving on to the next one in line. Sometimes there might be more than one car in your bay... but you've got water, soap, and your bikini for DAAAAAAYS.

So join in our Bitchin' Bikini Carwash for some encouragement, some empowerment, and some thoughts on your bikini that every woman needs to be reminded of. Myself included.
Grab a sponge, girls! LET'S GET SCRUBBIN'! Rose Royce on Soul Train - 'Car Wash'