“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*
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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

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Walls

WALLS

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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.

Us

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?

@KockyFatBitch