The Distress of the Privileged


The Weekly Sift

In a memorable scene from the 1998 film Pleasantville (in which two 1998 teen-agers are transported into the black-and-white world of a 1950s TV show), the father of the TV-perfect Parker family returns from work and says the magic words “Honey, I’m home!”, expecting them to conjure up a smiling wife, adorable children, and dinner on the table.

This time, though, it doesn’t work. No wife, no kids, no food. Confused, he repeats the invocation, as if he must have said it wrong. After searching the house, he wanders out into the rain and plaintively questions this strangely malfunctioning Universe: “Where’s my dinner?”

Privileged distress. I’m not bringing this up just to discuss old movies. As the culture evolves, people who benefitted from the old ways invariably see themselves as victims of change. The world used to fit them like a glove, but it no longer does. Increasingly, they find themselves…

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You know what I wish existed?


Tutus And Tiny Hats

A show about a bunch of people being friends and having adventures and living their lives, along the lines of Sex and the City or How I Met Your Mother, that just happens to feature a group of fat characters.

Preferably played by Amber Riley, Gabourey Sidibe, Rebel Wilson, Joy Nash, and maybe Mindy Kaling (who isn’t actually fat, but is larger than average for Hollywood).

I know there are good shows out there featuring fat characters. I recently started watching My Mad Fat Diary, and I LOVE it (although I wish there were a reliable way to watch it in the US, sigh.) I’ve also heard good things about Huge, which I want to watch sometime.

But I really just want there to be a show about fat people that doesn’t focus on our weight. A show that might mention fatphobia occasionally as it comes…

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Ideas for #ChangeTheWorldNotOurBodies: fat community projects


Tutus And Tiny Hats

woman standing and holding microphone, wearing red lace dress A Second Helpings performer.

If you’re looking for a place to donate for the #ChangeTheWorldNotOurBodies campaign that I started yesterday, why not check out some awesome fat community projects that are currently looking for funding? I’ve mentioned most of these in various posts, but I figured it would be helpful to round them up in one place.

Help Fattitude: A Body-Positive Documentaty reach its stretch goal of $50,000.

Support Abundant Bodies at AMC 2014Our movements need to think more critically about body policing, sizeism, and fatphobia. Help make this track a reality by supporting Abundant Bodies @ AMC2014. 

– One of the participants in the Abundant Bodies track also has his own fundraising page for travel funds.

Second Helpings Exhibit & Performance FatineeAll fat, all queer art! An event of obese proportions.

Make Me a Radical Dietician (by Michelle, aka the Fat Nutritionist

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a day with depression

My mom’s side of the family is having a reunion, which will be over tomorrow when we all go our separate ways again. It’s been a crazy hectic experience and I’m glad I got to spend time with them… and I’ve had enough of them to last a lifetime until the big family wedding celebration Fox and I are planning for November.

Over the course of our time here, I’ve realized that Mom is the sane one among her siblings, and I’m about on par with my saner cousins. My relationship with Mom is the epitome of functionality compared with the relationships my cousins have with their parents.

Let’s just take a moment to let that sink in.

This whole thing has really put a lot into perspective for me. I’ve seen (and heard my cousins comment on, with a calm acceptance) our complete and utter lack of effective communication…

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Other things I have learned….


It is important to draw upon my strengths, and channel them into working around my weaknesses.

I have realized that a LOT of my difficulties in communicating, daily life, anything really….

….have so much to do with that I was trying SO HARD to express myself in ways that whatever group I was in expressed themselves.   As someone who spends a lot of time navigating different circles, and am very empathic, I have a habit of losing myself in the process of relating on a deep level to those around me.   It’s been all or nothing.   Either I continue to hold others’ pain in my body and memory as I continue to move about life….every single day, thinking of every person I’ve ever met, and feeling all those emotions at once….or it gets so overwhelming that I break down, and hide in my mind.

I have an active imagination, to say the least….escapism has become an art form

There is balance to be found.

I can communicate to verbal thinkers through poetic language, helping them to imagine what I imagine.   I can communicate through visual and creative media entirely……through my own art, through video, through music……I can speak in lolcatz and bitstrips.   What’s really surprising to me is that when I DO draw on my own strengths in this way……it reaches people who are the opposite of me even better than when I tried to speak their own language.

I can communicate with people who are from different generations and political and religious and geographic cultures by connecting around what, even if it’s just one thing, that we DO share….and allow others’ to speak for THEMSELVES as I want to be allowed to do as well.  I don’t HAVE to do things that I’m not good at, because there is enough that I AM good at to be able to compensate and function in the world anyway….so long as I focus on that and that only

……I feel like such a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders, and I’m falling back into myself.   I don’t have to hide anymore.   Because I know I have a tribes, even if we’re not all always in the same physical location at the same time.   Maybe sometimes hermitting is necessary to figure such things out.   I can seek knowledge and company, synthesize it all, and then (when I’m ready)….go out and apply it to the world

Loud Hands Project:

Intense World Theory:






I have a lot to process.   This past year or so has been a whirlwind, alright….in fact, I feel like this year has been an entire lifetime.

1.)  my health finally broke down to the point that I COULD NO LONGER FUNCTION.   I had to accept help in ways that terrified me….and figure out priorities.  Stuff like “leaving a legacy”, which by all rights I should not have to think about yet….

2.)  This made me really overwhelmed and pissed off….out of desperation, I guess I ran at full speed on instinct toward….Something.   Anything.   To make sense of it all.   I had nothing to lose anymore, and dove head first into activism even though I had NO IDEA WHAT I WAS GETTING INTO OR WHAT I WAS DOING.

3.)  I was on the leadership team for a poetry slam about disabled, neurodivergent, and mad identities…..and this was both incredibly powerful, and incredibly stressful.   Like….I’m talking everyone was hurling everything at me.   No matter what the fuck I did, because I was apparently (without even ASKING for this position) the “face” of the movement.   I learned to read through tone to get to the heart of the matter.   I had to learn what to hold onto with all my passion….and what to leave behind.

I learned how others, all sorts of others, see me…and people like me, versus how I want to be perceived and feel I truly am.   And despite the vitriol, at its heart….I saw some vague sense of understanding and desire.   Perplexed faces.  Faces of longing.  I started to learn (again, out of necessity and desperation) how to tailor my messages to people who use entirely different languages.

4.)  I went on a quest of sorts….a quest for stories.   Stories of people who are a good influence in my life, whether that means holding my hand or challenging me to move forward or both.   I cut ties with those who aren’t.

5.)  I got really loud about all this online.  I just didn’t have any fucks to give anymore.  I felt like a teenager….a longing to be HEARD.

6.)  …..I noticed increasing visibility, and all sorts of deep seeded fears came up.   Fears and memories from my childhood and all of history.  Memories that have shaped who I am today.   Fears about getting noticed.  Being in the spotlight.  Realizing how, throughout all of history, certain kinds of people have been PUNISHED (over and over and over) just for daring to be themselves in this cruel world.  I felt less alone than ever.

7.)  and then….then I saw these:

….and it hit me all at once.

I know what I want my legacy to be, even if I don’t quite know what form this will take:   I want to help make confusing, scary things less so to the confused and scared.  I want to help provide safe platforms to spread stories of empowerment…..diverse stories, people grappling with all different kinds of scary things, and working through it, by tapping into their own courage and abilities, crafted by them alone from their own perspectives.   So maybe others can realize, as I have, that they’re not as alone as they may think.

You are not alone….

But also know this:  I don’t believe in sugar-coating anymore.   Because I now trust you to handle the truth, so long as you have support and coping skills along the way.