Dimples in my butt
Dimples in my butt are how you know im smiling. đ
Im writing this, because some days, itâs hard for me to relate to the (exceptionally beautiful & inspired) Moms out there, whoâs bodies changed b/c they were pregnant. Although ALWAYS complicated, for many, much of their weight gain was celebrated. Look at my bump, my life-nourishing breasts, ohh eat it babe-youâre eating for two anyways.đŒđ»đ© Postpartum, itâs a completely bullshit array of mixed opinions, but none-the-less, from an outsiders perspective it can feel like the #babyweight compassion is higher, socially speaking. You gave life, therefore we can give you leniency to âget your body backâ đđ (also bullshit propagated by patriarchal, fashion and the #unhealth industries).
â€ïžIm saying all of this, because I wish, for all the early years of being in this body, they had celebrated me, even just a little. I wish they told me that my curves, my juicy booty, my thick thighs and the trauma-induced emotional eating was beautiful. Nahhh, I didnât give birth, Iâm just a really smart, fat girl with a broken heart.
đŻââïžI come from a family where all the women are gorgeous...actually; and, when youâre the really smart one, but also the really fat one, it was hard for them to not look at me with pity. Women are only useful based on what they look like, right?
đFirstly, how we socialize and normalize beauty now, from then, it wasnât 111% their fault. The 90s/00s were all about cocaine chique, undernourished grunge and ecstasy slim. #plussizefashion #plussizemodel #bodypositivity wasnât a thing. I remember when @torrid launched and I thought all my fashion worries were over, except I was a broke teen and #biggirl clothing was really expensive #extrafabrictax. I got REALLY into accessories as a way to individualize myself. (Picture a wall of hats and jewellery. Either I was hiding myself or boldly stepping out. Life.was.complicated)
đŻI never had a problem getting laid tho. Fat was exotic, fat was comforting, fat was fetish; so, I used it. I was worthy because at least that hot guy, who would never date me, had sex with me. Until, one day my heart couldnât carry my masks anymore.
đšI HAD to face my shit. I HAD to choose to heal. I HAD to stop hiding from my excuses, and emotionally heal. That included, the relationship with my body. She has been my armour, my boundaries, my most complicated #bff relationship. But like, donât get it twisted. I didnât lose weight to heal, I started healing and then a lot of the emotional baggage I was carrying also came off through self-realization. I LIKE being a CURVY/SHAPELY woman.(and, now itâs so #vogue) This is about the shift of complete acceptance, regardless of my weight or ability. I donât even own a scale, because I donât care to. My closet sizes range from 8-14 (depending on who made it) and, I rip off the tags anyways, because those numbers DO NOT define me.
â€ïžHOW I FEEL, WHO I AM & HOW I LOVE is what makes me and, NOTHING CAN DEFINE ME, EXCEPT ME. #takeitorleaveit #zerofucks
đšThis week in #TheSexForBreakfastClub we are working on telling ourselves that we love ourselves and sharing our experiences on our weekly Friday #heart2heart call. I canât wait to share my story this week & hold space for theirs.
đČThe journey of #love will always be with you, regardless of how you look or move in it. My #heart is my #lifelong companion and accepting her first, is my primary task at hand, always - then, itâs about using that big, beautiful heart to love the rest of your #goddessshaped package. All of her. Completely.
đ§So yeah, look at the dimples in my butt, because sheâs smiling back at you. Happy, healthy, juicy, sexy, bouncy, meaty, strong; and, I thank her. Thank you booty - for holding me up, for being the sway to my rhythm, the cheeky in my sass and the full on joy in my life. Because, after all of this, it seems, I am a mother. I have birthed a love and, that love is me.
â€ïžLove you, so hard. Carlen