Fighting Approval

I can have the worse cocky attitude you have ever seen, but if you tell me that something doesn’t flatter me I’ll stop and take a second look. Approval is the hardest battle in the #BodyPositiveMovement next to Acceptance. If you’re new to the movement then I should note that the latter is more on a personal level of you accepting yourself. In my experience, approval is a little germ that has crept it’s way into every small crevice of my life. I still catch myself asking my love, my sister, my mom and even my son “what do you think about this,” in referencing a particular piece of clothing, outfit, makeup or hairstyle. When they agree with my idea that it looks good, I have a renewed sense of self confidence because they have approved of my acceptance.

I went natural (hair reference) a year and a half ago. This is a journey within itself outside of the #bodypositvemovement but still a major part in it as well. It is harder to get approval of my natural hair than of my natural body. No one in my family, my cousin aside, is a fan of the natural movement. They accept my choice, but they’d rather I’d slapped a perm in my head than rock my fro to work or a night out. Their inadvertent negativity to my natural hair choice has made me more aware of my innate need for approval. Twisting my fingers through my funky fro one evening I asked my mom, “how does this look?” She held a semi-smile on her face and responded, “well you know I don’t like the natural thing, so you probably shouldn’t ask me.” Being myself, what I heard was simply I’m not you so it doesn’t matter.  She was right! Now anytime I find myself about to ask someone, “how does this look” or “how does this fit,”  I turn the question inward and ask myself.

Do I feel good in this outfit? How does this make me look? Did it make me smile when I put it on? If this criteria is met then I’m good. It is still a growing process as I still find myself catching a whisper of someone else’s discontent hidden behind a cheerful voice and unasked for suggestion like “why don’t you get your hair braided?” Um…because I’m grown, I’m a bitch and I do whatever the fuck I want…anymore questions or suggestions? So don’t bother asking anyone if something “fits right” or “looks good on you” because they are not the ones wearing it, you are! I have stood in the mirror too long before changing and adjusting myself because of the thoughts of others, believing I needed their approval of who I was and what I was wearing. Do you find yourself seeking the approval of others for your choices about you? If so, ask yourself, what bills do they pay in my house? Exactly.



“Big Sexy”…..

“Big Sexy” and every none compliment you could give a plus size chick…

**Virtual Rant**

“What’s up big sexy?” *Cue extreme eye roll*
This is in no way a compliment (to me). I am 28 years old with a Bachelor’s and a Master’s degree so I do not need you to inform me that I am big prior to telling me that I am sexy. I’ll tell you why this bothers me so much. It goes in line with other HORRIBLE greetings/pick up lines I have had the UN-pleasure of hearing.

1. Your face is cute.
2. You are so cute for a big girl.
3. You’re cute for a black girl.

Trust me, that list goes on and doesn’t get any better. What in the entire fuck? Seriously, I heard comments like this so much growing up that I was foolish enough to believe them. I began to compartmentalize other plus size women and women of color. “I’m not as fat as her” or “She’s darker than me,” were words that had come out of my own mouth. Just that easy I let society manipulate my view of beauty so that I could fit there’s even if it was in a small margin. These thoughts were confirmed with even more insult-pliments (compliments through the insulting of others) like “You’re fat but not sloppy fat like her.” Bitch what? Shit like this was actually okay to me. That is a toxic way of thinking.

It took me a long time to love and accept myself. It wasn’t because I thought I was ugly, it was because society was trying to convince me that I was. This in turn made my every day battle a constant struggle to prove them wrong, not convince myself. I come from a long line of strong bitches. Yes bitches, not in the literal sense but metaphorically. By bitch I am referring to those ladies who speak their mind no matter what and seriously does not give a fuck what you think about them or what was said. In knowing where I come from and my household, I encountered so many women who found it hard to fight society for their beauty. I expected to see this hurt and confusion in young girls because it is a growing pain in the fact that you are still discovering yourself in your youth. What amazed me was running into women 10 or 20 years older than me still battling a self-hatred of being fat. 45 years on this earth and self love and acceptance had yet to broaden this woman’s horizon. The words big, fat, huge, cow, and hippo brought tears to her eyes even if they were not in reference to her. Winning cookies in a raffle bothered her as she assumed it was an inside joke about the fat woman.

I know every person’s journey is different. Not everyone has her mindset or mine for that matter. The point is, when you say “big” sexy you may be hurting someone instead of making them feel good about themselves. GrrU8R1442497364I love every inch of me because it’s mine and nobody can love it as much as me. I own the big girl title, but I will not let you call me “big sexy” for the ladies out there that don’t quite yet. But do feel free to call me a @KockyFatBitch when I don’t respond to your lame ass! #LongLiveFatBitches

Liebster Award ;-)

liebster2So I have been totally nominated for the Liebster Award (Yay!) which is an awesome way to welcome new bloggers to the scene. Thank you so much to the beautiful person inside and out who nominated me, Shelby Lynn!!! According to the rules I have to answer some questions so here goes…

NerdyxNotes‘ Questions:

  • What is your favorite book and why? My favorite book is Leslie by Omar Tyree. I love it because it takes traditional urban drama that I love to read and throws in a boat load of magic and superstition. Plus it deals with the battle of coming into yourself.
  • What is your biggest pet peeve? My biggest pet peeve is someone who cries more than they act. It’s okay to cry when you have to, just don’t cry about the same thing if you’re not going to try and fix it.
  • If you could relive a particular year of your life knowing what you know now, what year and why? It would have to be my Freshman year at Christian Brothers University (2005) because I really think a #BodyConfidence organization there would have skyrocketed plus I would have went into Engineering like they told me to do.
  • How do you come up with new blog posts? I live life. I have a passion for lying…I mean writing stories. So when life gives me one I come here.
  • If you could pull a Freaky Friday with anybody who would it be? Oprah
  • If you were able to have any color hair, what color would you choose? Purple
  • What is your favorite clothing store? Avenue
  • Who is your blogspiration? TheFiestyFox
  • Who is your favorite book character? Leslie
  • What is the most embarrassing station on your Pandora station list? I so have a breakup station
  • Who’s concert would you give your left arm to attend? It would have to be blues/bluegrass mega show.

My Questions:

  • What inspires you to write?
  • If you could travel in time, what time period and where would you go?
  • You have 30 seconds to address the world, what do you say?
  • What is your favorite book and why?
  • What are your top three clothing stores?
  • What is your favorite song?
  • Who are your top three bloggers?
  • Is there an outfit that you still building confidence to where? If so, what is it and why?
  • Who’s your celebrity crush?
  • If you were a super hero(ine), what would your name be?
  • Are you a fan of Fattitude?

I would like to nominate:

Ana Elrich


….I am so supposed to put like 11 people on here but I’m still new to the scene and don’t know that many…so…




You never know how sensitive self-esteem is until you have to build that bitch up from nothing. Life recently reminded me of just that fact. My self-confidence, self-love, cocky bitchness, self-acceptance, self-appreciation and fuck-what-you-think mindset broke on me all at once. My wall I had built came crashing down. It was not because of something someone said to me. It was neither because of a mean spirited online post nor from just pure ignorance of the human race. It was because medically something ugly was attached to me.

Still in shock, I am fighting tears even typing this. How could something so ugly be on or ball and chainattached to something so beautiful is what I kept asking myself with the results in my hand. I was broken, a defective woman. Who would want damaged goods? Between sobs I searched online for answers to my dilemma, this couldn’t be life. “You’re not alone. Half of America is dealing with this.” These words were supposed to comfort me. They did not. Half of  America was not me.

Brick by brick this wall I had taken the last ten years to build was coming apart. Not only was I defective, broken, I was a fat-nappy headed-black-broken-defective woman. brick by brickDescriptive terms that had went from hurting me to healing me went back to destroying me with the flick of a switch. Two days before my two-year anniversary with the love of my life I was thinking this amazing man was superficial and would agree with my negative outlook and find something better. I was wrong.


He reminded me of who I had become. For a brief second I had lost sight of the victories I had won because I started to focus on one loss. After a couple of days of slumming around I am sure I would have come to the same conclusion, but still the support system is one hell of a thing. This situation did make me stop and ponder still. Was I building my self-esteem or was I just building a wall to shield me from the world?

I was doing both. I had built the wall in order to give me time to work on the only strong-black-womanenemy that mattered, I. While the wall I built battled the world, I was becoming champion of myself. I was winning too. It was just that added weight (no pun intended) to my structure that left me being jumped by everything I was trying to keep out and defeat. Last night they had won, but the fight isn’t over. I needed my wall to fall so that I could better assess the situation. When I first started building, I wasn’t ready for battle yet. I had to strategize and train. They have fucked up now. I want to thank you life for waking this sleeping giant.

Have there been times where your self-confidence has taken a hit? What do you do to continue your #BodyConfidence journey?



Tessa Book Cover

Chapter 1 Excerpt:

Saturday morning the sun crept its way through the blinds and found Tessa’s blood covered face. She began to stir as the light illuminated her eyelids giving her a red light show as the beams bounced off the blood in her eyelids. “Aaahh!” she winced as she reached to shield her eyes with her right hand. The bruising on her arm matched the torn purple t-shirt she had worn last night in color and distress. Her face was equally bruised ranging from crimson red to a dark blue. Bzzzz! Bzzzz! Bzzzz! Her phone vibrated on her nightstand. She turned her body attempting to silence it but was met with a sharp pain on the left side of her torso. Her body was of no use to her this morning, something she hadn’t seen coming the night before. Even more so she hadn’t expected it to come at the hands of her boyfriend He’brewq (Hay-Brook). Tessa had never thought of herself as the type of person to indulge in an abusive relationship and still did not. The right and logical thing to do would be to call the police. However after her run in with He’brewq and his best friend Prez, she was not too eager to stir the pot and get authorities or her family involved. She of course, like some women she thought, found stimulation in the occasional rough housing and rough sex. However this moved beyond turning her on, it scared the hell out of her. So did this morning after when her movements were limited and all she could remember from the night before was He’brewq’s massive hand around her throat. Standing 6’5” weighing roughly 265, in times of passion he would lift Tessa’s nice sized frame as if it was nothing. Only 5’9” she had him by 30 pounds, but it didn’t matter. {Read More…}

Available Soon!

BBW Exclusive Excerpt:

Using the wall to square up, she began swinging and was connecting most if not all of her punches. With the way the two were moving around you could have sworn her bathroom was twelve feet by twelve instead of eight feet by four. Growing tired of her resistance He’brewq’s hands found their way around her neck and squeezed until her arms and legs went limp. {Read More…}