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Bariatric Burdens…

ball and chainSo let’s start this off with a confession. I am, along with my mother, going to have bariatric surgery. For those of you who don’t know, bariatric surgery is a surgical procedure used to control how you eat. There are different types but my mom and I are having the gastric bypass.

From the beginning I was fully against this. I actually was angry at all of my fat role models who had chosen this path. I felt betrayed. How could they preach to me about loving being a fat girl and then opting out via surgery to no longer be a fat girl. I felt as if they were just perpetuating a lie as long as they had an audience. This thought alone made me want to run to the hills when my mom even mentioned it. I honestly thought that you couldn’t call yourself #bodypositive if this was a path you chose to follow. To alter your body this extreme for the sake of losing weight.

Needless to say, I was very judgmental and honestly stil am judgmental as I start this journey. This actually is my second-ish first attempt, as I only needed one more weigh-in and a visit with a psychologist in order to have the surgery. I opted out and continued living. I pretty much rebelled against the whole idea and continued living. I however am one of those types who are extremely protective of their parents, so as I rebelled I couldn’t help but notice my mother’s drive to go through with it. She’s actually having the surgery next month, May 2017. So a strong piece of me starting pushing to support her by doing the same.

I however am still extremely critical of the whole concept. I still have a major attitude with any and all staff who smile and say, “you’re going to love the new you.” I love the me now. Yet I am still moving forward with this. Is it really to support my mom? I have gotten bigger but still this bothers me. My mom spoke with the psychologist already, and I was thinking they were going to ensure that you are comfortable with this decision but she said they only want to make sure you’re not a druggie…

So who the fuck do I talk to about this? This blog.  Writing it out.  All of my beautiful plus size role models have lost a LOT of weight…and honestly there is nothing wrong with that. Body positive ideals have no weight minimum or maximum. It’s your body no matter what you choose to do with it, it’s your choice. Love the skin you’re in either way. I say this because I am and forever will be the Kocky Fat Bitch because she made me who I am today.

I’ll use her and this blog to detail my journey and my story for future fat girls out there. Whether they choose to go this route or not. There are numerous other ways to achieve a healthy lifestyle and fat DOES NOT equal unhealthy. Don’t ever believe that bullshit. Now I myself gained like an extra 20lbs for no damn reason…well fast food but that’s not the poing, so I am going to gone take this easy hard road. I do not want to breach 500 lbs and honestly should not at all be that heavy. I am not getting any younger so this is my journey. It is definitely a forced lifestyle change.

I will keep you posted and probably will post pictures on a separate blog (WTF Day 1 etc).

March 14, 2017      Weigh-in: 468 lbs



Black Lives Matter

*Virtual Rant*

When I hear people, especially one of my favorite rappers Kevin Gates, say things such as “I deserved to get my ass beat, I was acting like a n*gger. I was being belligerent. All lives matter;” it totally pisses me off. 1. If you do not have a weapon, I do not care how much you curse, scream, swing or kick, that does not make it okay for you to be gunned down. If you’re unable to be subdued, could not a shot in the leg or arm suffice? Tasers? Clubs? Okay anyway moving pastblm2 that, my issue is the the constant yelling of All Lives Matter in an effort to combat Black Lives Matter….look, yes all lives do matter. Black Lives Matter is being stated so that this fact is brought to the forefront with EVERYONE else. The media coverage of a black person’s life and a white person’s life is COMPLETELY different. The treatment of a white person by police is COMPLETELY different than that of a black person. I know, I know you’re probably saying it’s not black and white, but yea it actually is in the south. Black is just not black anymore, well never was. Black is and has always been, down here, not white.

When CNN references a black man who was killed in police custody as “the son of a heroin addict” so as to paint this image of someone everyone should give two shits about, BLACK LIVES MATTER is what is being screamed. This is to combat this overwhelming need of the world to justify the killing and degradation of the worth of black lives. My senior year, two girls went missing during their Senior trip in the year of 2005. One went to Miami and the other went to Aruba….guess which one was all over the news. I’ll give you a hint, she has blonde hair and blue eyes. May they both rest in peace. This piece is not to make lite of anyone’s life or plight but to give you an idea of why people are screaming black lives matter. STOP telling us we’re not worthy of believing in ourselves because our neighborhoods are drug infested, believe it or not we’re actually trying to fixblm3 that.

We’re too loud? That’s us, we’re a joyous people that to a fault like to include everyone. We’re fighters but we’re the most loving and caring people on the planet. We have always been a nurturing people who have carried nations in our bosom. Black Lives Matter is pleading with the world to care about our deaths just as much as everyone else. And if you don’t see color, please stop. Color is a crucial part to our roots. WE are just getting in an era where we are teaching and instilling in our kids the beauty of their skin and hair. See color and just love every shade of it, that would be totally better.

I know there’s no order to this piece, like I said it was a rant. So if you see the #BlackLivesMatter don’t get disgusted and irritated, just remember what we’re asking you. We hurt like you hurt, we deserve the same amount of love and respect as anyone else. Just like you shouldn’t tell a rape victim they were asking for it in regards to their actions or dress, don’t say it about black people being gunned down by the police when they are unarmed. For a long time, black people and women have been an easy target. Black Lives Matter is just trying to remove that target from our backs by getting the world to care about what happens to us just as we have always cared for the world. Somebody loves you baby.

-A Thinking Black Woman


Fat Bitch Books

So I received a copy of Things NO ONE will tell FAT girls by Jes Baker like three days ago from my internship at Fattitude. If you have ever doubted the awesomeness of self-help books, PLEASE pick this book up. It totally makes you ready to go to war with the superficial ideas of “pretty” in the world. It has an host of amazing chime ins by some super awesome body positive activists that really hypes you up for what you may consider a new truth. Another cool factor is the fact that Jes poses challenges throughout the book that ultimately have you thinking, “readingfuck it, why the fuck not.” Seriously, I totally love this book. I am definitely keeping this for my daughter when I am blessed to have one. I want her to know self love from the beginning and do not want her or anyone to miss out on life due to hiding. Another PLUS of this book and her site is the fact that it and she makes you aware of other authors like her and even shares information on the books she felt she had to read. My next goal is How to Be a Fat Bitch by Rachele Cateyes….bitch yes! Do you all not know who I am by now? I am THE KOCKY FAT BITCH. Did you not think I was going to get in on this book? I read a sample on the link and this beauty got me when she said this is for all the fat bitches out there. Yes ma’am, that’s me! Have you read either of these books? If so, tell me what you think! Give me some suggestions on some good body positive literature you’ve come across or have grown from. I love you big girl.


Fat Punchline Workhouse

Monday thru Friday I work with a group of individuals who are for the most part kind and sweet people.  However they, like most groups of people, get in to water cooler conversations that result in one woman’s weight being the butt of a few of their jokes. My natural defenses when it comes to anyone verbally attacking the physical appearance of another person is to do the same to the attacker themselves. Like seriously, you’re judging her weight when you’re rocking the biggest doughnut up here?

Being that I have recently found my way into the Body Positive Movement I find myself taking up arms with anyone that society or a group of idiots may deem not acceptable to their standards. When the snide jokes come up about weight or this one lady in particular I’m there ready with a distinct frown on my face awaiting an explanation of what exactly appears to be funny about the situation. Of course when asked to explain themselves everyone gets lost and the joke is over. Of course this got me to thinking as to why grown individuals felt comfortable enough to make someone else work environment unfavorable for their entertainment. Although I’ve never seen her within earshot of their conversations, it’s the plight of the fat girl. Years of secret jokes, random snickers and side glances become so second nature that we accept it and keep it moving. So I’m sure she has caught a glance of this foolishness that myself am no stranger to as well.

I love my job and for the most part I love my work environment too. How could I possibly counter this adolescent behavior in working adults without becoming public enemy no. 1(which I totally would)? Perhaps I was too quiet in my #bodypositivity. I figured me just being is enough. I need to show my support for the plus beauties in my work place. Plain as day on my desk is a huge printout of the F attitude logo. I am by nature a very combatant person. The thought of confrontation excites me. Seriously. I live to make people eat their words especially when their crude and insensitive. “Oh I meant sloppy fat people, not you.” *Gag* Any FAT person you talk about IS me so fuck you. Any BLACK person you talk about IS me so fuck you. Any NATURAL person you talk about IS me so fuck you. Long story short, we are our brother’s keeper. I am not telling you to go “Red Wedding” on your co-workers but please do call them on their shit. I know I will. 🙂



Chubby Crossroads

Meet me there…

There’s this funny thing about crossroads; they always make you stop. You either stop out of pure fascination from it’s sudden existence in your path or in caution of sudden cross traffic that may knock the shit out of you and have you sitting on the side of the road confused. The same goes for body love and acceptance. Eventually you’re going to come to a crossroad that’s going to have you second guessing everything you’ve already been through and may even have you doubling back to see if you missed a turn somewhere. Then there’s of course the infamous story of meeting the devil at the crossroads to sell your soul for some amazing talent that is although amazing is short lived at best. This, however, is not about that.

This is about the chubby crossroads. You may have not heard about them or considered them but if you’re a big girl or guy you’ve crossed them plenty of times in your life. You’ve actually crossed them so much that they seem almost irrelevant. Crossroads are described as a point at which a crucial decision must be made that will have far-reaching consequences. Let me explain: chubby crossroads are those impasses in which we either choose to love what we see or hate it. You wouldn’t think it would be that crucial until you realize you’ve taught yourself to hate yourself due to the world around you. Each time you look in the mirror, get dressed, go out or venture into a situation of being seen; you’re at a chubby crossroad.

It’s like this; when you got dressed this morning or better yet when you woke up this morning and looked in the mirror did you love what you saw? Or did you start picking at “flaws” to fix? That small mental conversation with yourself started you down a road that is either going to build you up or break you down. Both roads will teach you a lesson, some harder than others.

Then you have the massive intersections, these are the ones you seen coming and you know you have a decision to make and in your mind you’re just absolutely sure which way you’re going to go when you get there. Yet when you pull up there’s roadwork, some sort of delay or obstruction in the path you just KNEW you were going to take. Sometimes there’s someone to direct you on an alternate route and sometimes it just you on your own having to figure shit out. The point is, when you come to these crossroads you don’t hop out your car and say fuck it, you keep it moving. No matter what life throws your way, KEEP MOVING. I came to my chubby crossroads after I joined the movement and started using my voice. I was here but now what? Was I supposed to shut up and go back to normal, stay on the same path or make my own road? Of course I’m KFB and 220 (2nd to none) so I had to go about finding my own way of doing things. One drop is never enough if you’ve never been thirsty. So my pretty fat girls own your life; don’t be afraid to be a bitch; take up as much space as you want because society won’t even offer you a seat!



Dating While Big;)

So this whole thing about accepting your body totally becomes non-existent if you can not accept the fact that someone else can accept your body. I’m talking about your current or potential lover. Being rubbed, hugged and caressed with your clothes on had always not equaled being rubbed, hugged and caressed on while naked. Some of the those smooth lines created by my jeans are a little more rigid in person. This was a major fear of mine. I’m a bisexual female and was comforted on one part of the scale when my brother told me that “with dudes, pussy is pussy no matter what it’s packaged in.” Okay. So no matter what someone is going to want my twat. Not exactly a vote of confidence but I give the bugger an “A” for effort. I was young and accepted this to substantial enough reassurance for my attraction to men. As I grew however, I refused to let men be wrapped up in the premise of being hungry little animals only looking for a meal. I also learned that while individuals have “types” that they prefer, that I didn’t have to be limited by their limitations and also that as a beautiful young woman had the same option. I eliminated those not emotionally or physically equipped to handle loving a big girl.

Every dating site I managed to be a part of I made sure in big bold letters you saw BBW clearly written on my page. It was my badge of honor and the more love and attention I got because of it only reassured me of the fact that everyone does indeed have a type and baby they love them some big girls. I found myself adding and following other big girls just to improve my craft. Cute hair styles and outfits that I had never thought to try I began to experiment with to test out on my admirers. Like mosquitos to fresh bathed skin, they soaked it up! It was all love until I had to tell them I wasn’t interested. How dare this fat bitch tell me she doesn’t want me? She’s lucky I’m even talking to her. “You’re fat anyway!” *Cue Laughter* I was fat when you first messaged me sir.

Why is it hard to believe that a plus size woman has options? Or that she is not desperate to jump any available dick out there? Is it really that offensive for you to be turned down by a beautiful big girl? I guess it doesn’t feel nice now that we’ve found ourselves and the tables have turned.


CAUTION!!!: Some links contain #FatHate language.

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