Jessica from Kerflop recently posted a piece on what she believes. It was beautiful, and it is more in line with what I want to believe.
I first heard the term “Traditional Build” on the Verymom (now Kerflop) website over a year ago, and have gone on to read the Ladies No.1 Detective Agency books with my jaw dropped. The main protagonist is an African woman named Precious Ramotswe. She is a woman who fills a size 22 dress and feels beautiful. She is treated and spoken of by others as a desirable woman. When another refers to her as "fat" it is with admiration, or a sense of covetousness. To my readers ears, the character's in Alexander McCall Smith's books pronounce the word "fat" the same way that I would say "svelte."
It makes me want to cry. Not many folks around me admire my "Traditional Build." If they did? I still wouldn't know it, because I certainly don't admire my ample traditions.
I come from a family and culture that measures a woman's success, desirability and state of emotional health by the size of her jeans. Jeans that I have never been able to fit my butt into. They are some teeny-tiny, no-thigh-having jeans, and I hate them.
I am in the process of rejecting those stupid jeans, but they still hang in my closet. I get sick of them and throw them away, but the next morning there they are again, and they mock me. Stupid Jeans.
Anyone got a blowtorch?
*edited to add: I do not blame my messed up thinking and body attitudes (or my messed up body for that matter) on anyone. I am an adult, I am in charge of what/who I am... it is taking time and effort to get to where I want to be, however. I am not indicting anyone in this little post, INCLUDING my stupid ex who used to call me a fat @$%&*% cow as a motivational technique. Wait... I think I did just indict him with that last sentence. Fine, I am indicting no one but him.