Growing in the sixties I wore a girdle. I hated them as they always felt wrong…on so many levels (reasons I had not yet figured out).
For a while they went out of fashion, but they returned. Packaged as modern and liberating.
Loose fat, it seems, is something we must contain and stuff back in to its casing like a sausage, according to marketers who sell the new form of a corset.
I wore one to a wedding a few years ago. Yes, the photos showed a flat stomach, but my face was bright red as I sweated profusely and I spent more of the event in the bathroom trying to get cool. Not a fun memory.
This is just another way we are told our body isn’t good enough. Not doing this anymore.
I refuse to suck it in anymore. In every way. My belly fat isn’t going away and loving it, instead of restricting it and hating it, stops me trying to starve myself.
I refuse to suck up to the diet industry’s idea of an ideal body
I refuse to suck up to anyone’s idea of my perfect body
I refuse to suck up to engaging in body bashing conversations… directed at myself or anyone else
I refuse to suck up to a patriarchal racist idea of beauty
I refuse to suck up to buying foods or banning foods because they are clean or not clean, healthy, not healthy. I am eating what I want to eat.
I am not sucking anything in or sucking up to the madness.
Isn’t it time to stop to stop sucking up to anyone and anything?
Thanks for reading,
Christina