Women’s Health (Ha!) magazine published an article by Anonymous (Not the cool one, I assure you) entitled, “How Becoming A Nudist Helped Me Accept My Body” (I refuse to link because fuck that magazine and all it promotes) with the following image at the top:

(Photo depicts a thin, white, seemingly able-bodied woman from behind with long wavy brown hair coming up out of the water.)

My immediate and initial reaction was an overly dramatic eye roll. Not at being a nudist, mind you. Nah, to each their own, live and let live is my way. My reaction was mostly to the photo. My inner thought was a very snarky, “Oh sure, it’s a helluva lot easier to love your body, especially amongst nudists if you are the embodiment of western social beauty standards! Psshht!” Today I decided to examine my own snark and read the actual article. My initial reaction, I found, was not wrong. Ugh!

This was written by someone who claimed to already love their naked body, to feel their best when wearing nothing at all. They then go into how they were at their largest size after years of yo-yo dieting. The writer then aims to demystify what nudism is and how meetups and events work. Sexual and lewd behavior is not allowed, it’s all very normal and nice, just nude. I was open to what they had to say until it ended with:

“Now that I feel a healthy acceptance of my body, I feel all the more motivated to improve it. The body that I love is healthier than ever, and I consistently make an effort to nourish it, exercise it, and pamper it.

After all, I have quite the audience these days. And I love it.”

One of these days I will surely get my eyes to permanently roll so far back the can no longer sit in their natural place! For fuck’s sake! How did I fucking know?!?! This person never loved their body and they still fucking don’t! This person points directly to how their size increased and then recommits to the same destructive pattern in yet another futile attempt to “improve it” after participating and feeling part of a community that has embraced her and believes:

“Nudists (or naturists, if you will) consider the human body a beautiful creation, and something of which no one should be ashamed.” 

What in the actual living fuck?!?! NO! This is not how that works! Why did I read this infuriating article? Why am I sharing this here and with you at all? Because we all need to recognize and think more critically about this bullshit that gets shoved down our throats in all media, even and maybe especially when it paints itself in pretty, body positive colors. UGH! Yeah “body positivity” is really just another way the weight cycling (read diet/fitness/etc) industry adds to its billions of dollars in profit. That profit comes from those who just want to feel better, to feel like they belong in this world, to feel whole and human and right. It’s all lies!

You need only to scratch the surface to find co-opted language ripped from the fat positive/acceptance movement directly. I remember the gross, deep, awful feeling that sat in the pit of my stomach as I saw for the first time the weight watching ad depicting an outright rip off of Marilyn Wann’s “Yay! Scale”. I’ve seen companies such as lane bryant pushing a seeming body positive message in order to shill their control-slimming-torture garments in order for us all to fit in…or is it really just fall in line?! No thank you!

All bodies are good bodies

“There is no wrong way to have a body!” I believe originally said/written by Lesley Kinzel, but google results were too numerous and varied to prove this, thanks to further co-opting in the name of body positivity that actually isn’t at all. We don’t need media further profiting off of us when we’ve been beaten up our entire lives by a society that sees us as inherently wrong and othered. I refuse to consume anything that makes me feel like shit or tries to convince me to. Fuck that noise! That’s all it is, too, is noise. It is a din that finds its way into our very pores and then sells us pore minimizing creams lest the rest of the world discovers we inhabit actual human bodies.

I am obsessed with Sailor J, who has a YouTube vlog in the style of makeup tutorials. Only she uses her fantastic and sarcastic sense of humor in such a way I have not encountered online. To find inspiration in someone so much younger than myself is humbling, but awesome! One of my closest friends is 24 and while the world opens its doors to her as it slams them on me, she is open-minded and willing to see what that means and why that is. Sailor J reminds me of her, but funnier and more feminist in her own way. Love them both! I think it is both easy and wrong to dismiss the views and experiences of those younger than us/me. I highly recommend Sailor J’s Contouring 101 video. I have no interest in the subject itself, but it is a fantastic commentary on the absurdity of beauty standards in a patriarchal society.

I am fat. And I have this radical idea that I am allowed to exist.

There is nothing wrong with having a fat body, of any size. There have always been fat people, throughout time! Humans seek to control anything that feels out of their control. Today’s beauty standards have not always been based on thin, white, euro-hetero-centric bullshit. How fucking boring and unreasonable is that?! I love the diversity of where I live, the San Francisco Bay area in California. I love that nobody looks the same or is shaped the same. I have visited places where that is seriously not the case. It was surprising to me and I couldn’t feel comfortable in those locales. Why anyone would want that I will never understand, nor try to, honestly.

While we cannot change other people, or their beliefs or ability to see people of size as whole and equal, we can choose to laugh in the face of those who oppress us with those boring and small-minded views. We are not here to be pleasing to everyone, or anyone, other than ourselves, dammit! We have just as much a right to exist in this world, to seek happiness and create a life of our choosing, as anyone else. They will try to lie to our very faces and insist we live a life confined by their standards and miseries, but that isn’t the life I want. That isn’t the path to fulfillment. Follow the money, examine what media you consume and think critically about it. They love to take and take and take from us, but to walk in our radically self-accepting shoes would rock their damned world!
(Que “Fat Bottom Girls” by Queen LOL!)

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,

<3
S

P.S. Check out and use the hashtag: #FatAndFree on Insta & FB!

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (and updated daily): http://on.fb.me/1A18fAS 

Or get the same “shared” content on Twitter: @NotBlueAtAll

I also have an Instagram I’ve finally started to actually use: https://instagram.com/notblueatall/

And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.): notblueatall@notblueatall.com

“I gave myself permission to feel and experience all of my emotions. In order to do that, I had to stop being afraid to feel. In order to do that, I taught myself to believe that no matter what I felt or what happened when I felt it, I would be okay.” Iyanla Vanzant

I struggled for a very long time to acknowledge my feelings, to feel them, to sit with them, about anything. I would make jokes, “Feelings?! Blerg! Nope!” or make barfing sounds (because my inner child will never die!), but I didn’t recognize this repulsion as fear. I think that is what it was all along. A fear of feeling anything that I couldn’t control or would remind me of darker times I’d survived. It was so much easier to tamp those feels down and pretend all was right in the world.  It’s sad to say, but I even used the whole positive thinking tropes as a way to ignore any emotion that didn’t feel in line with that. I suppose it was my own weird way of coping with what I wasn’t yet ready to process.

Our brains are there to help us, support us, to get us through what we don’t think possible. When we dream, even if we have nightmares, it is our brain’s way of defragging or cleaning up the bits that life leaves in the grey wrinkles within. It doesn’t mean anything, necessarily, but if it helps you to gain perspective it can be meaningful to examine. Our brains can protect us from that which we aren’t currently able to face, such as trauma. I recall being so stressed out beyond measure that I actually didn’t feel stressed at all. I’m certain that this was my brain’s way of ensuring my/its survival. It wasn’t until I left that job, this was a long time ago, that the weight of that stress was fully felt. At such times we insist internally/externally that we don’t have time for this shit. Or that feelings, stress, processing is for the weak. Ha-ha! I can assure you that the opposite is in fact true.

“I’ve found that growing up means being honest. About what I am. What I need. What I feel. Who I am.”

I spent years in a relationship longing for my desires to be fulfilled, but completely unable to express them. That was a quick and sure path to misery. In my marriage we both, I think, followed this pattern. Not speaking meant not confronting what was obviously wrong in the relationship. This was a pattern in the long-term relationship that followed my marriage as well, though I did my best to be upfront and straightforward, insisting to do better this time, but the other person turned a blind eye at every turn. Avoidance of feelings does not erase them, it only prolongs what you must at some point eventually face and deal with. In the end, you won’t be the only one suffering. I tried to push the issue, head on as is my way now, but they resisted so hard that eventually they would just acknowledge the issue and promise to do better, ad nauseum. Nothing ever improved until we were both living the lie that was our relationship for four years. Ugh!

The struggles of that relationship affected my friendships. People I loved and trusted and cared for deeply gave me full and encouraging permission to compromise my own principles. It made me distrust the world to the point where I didn’t talk about anything personal at all. It is very likely what kept my writer’s block in place for so long, too (what a miraculous relief it is to be writing again). Some of those friendships had to be severed when the pressure to sidestep what they saw as an unreasonable if not inauthentic relationship became toxic. I was quite clear in expressing my boundaries, but folks who ignore or push your boundaries are not people you actually want in your life, I promise. I isolated myself out of a necessity to be myself. It was a tough time, but soon I had new people in my life who I shared those truths and boundaries with who accepted me and loved me for them, not in spite of those boundaries and principles.

Compromising yourself for the sake of others rarely turns out well for either party. You’re essentially living a lie and forcing someone else to, too. Whether either knows or acknowledges this is not the point, you will be miserable, but maybe not immediately. I spent twelve years like this and didn’t understand why or how we could both be miserable. When you hold back so much of yourself when you stop sharing and becoming your true self and seeking that in the world and your own journey, you live for someone else and it is a lie. To be honest is to be vulnerable. Vulnerability is a scary thing, but it is a powerful and necessary thing. I pushed vulnerability away for so long in fear of being rejected, even in my own marriage. I found truth and honesty in leaving to become what I needed to be, whatever that meant or turned out to be in the end. I’m now finally feeling the fruits of that labor, and still seeking and becoming what that is.

“All I wanted was to live a life where I could be me, and be okay with that.” Charlotte Eriksson

Something that has helped me along the way was the suggestion by a then-coworker to read the book “Daring Greatly” by Brene Brown. Brene Brown has one of the most watched TED Talks of all time and it’s all about vulnerability. Daring Greatly came after this, but it pushed me to find a way to own my vulnerability and to find power in it. It showed me ways that these things can come up in our lives where we would typically run from or avoid those feelings. Having someone to talk through these things while also reading that book helped immensely. It makes me incredibly sad that that same former coworker went through that with me only to then turn their back on it and me entirely. C’est la vie!

I have had many other people reach out to me to tell me that by being so open, transparent, and ultimately vulnerable in an often public way, has helped guide them to find their own light and truths from within themselves. Nothing has ever moved and inspired me like that. That is what reignited my voice and my writing here. I am so grateful to have this platform to share my stories, to give voice and names to the things we all struggle with. It helps me just as much if not more than it has helped others. I know I am living my most authentic life, being my truest self, and “riding my own melt” when I am helping and supporting others. It may not make sense to everyone, but to the ones that it does strike a chord with, it is golden. Thank you so much for that.

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,
<3
S

P.S. Check out and use the hashtag: #FatAndFree on Insta & FB!

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (and updated daily): http://on.fb.me/1A18fAS 

Or get the same “shared” content on Twitter: @NotBlueAtAll

I also have an Instagram I’ve finally started to actually use: https://instagram.com/notblueatall/

And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.): notblueatall@notblueatall.com

Everyone is talking about “The Holidays” but I won’t. I don’t buy into societal obligations that leave us stressed out and feeling like garbage. NOPE! And, No Thank You!!! I want to talk about our support systems, most importantly starting with ourselves. Yes, you are the biggest and most important part of your support system. It seems like no one talks about that vital component. It’s always addressed in the external. Your friends, family, etcetera. In our quietest moments, in the darkest of times, the one thing we have always is ourselves.

That thought used to make me feel a great sense of unease. It wasn’t until one of the darkest times in my life that I really faced this fear of being alone with my thoughts. I had avoided it for so long, relied on so many coping mechanisms, quite successfully, for so long that I wasn’t sure what would be left to face and that was enough to avoid it. Brains that have experienced the amount of trauma, especially during more formative years such as I have, work extra hard to avoid the scariest bits of both our minds and the world. It doesn’t matter how long ago the trauma happened, it’s all still in there.

It was the day I had filed for my divorce. I had left my husband six months prior but kept putting off that final step, though we’d signed all the documents well before this. I went to the courthouse alone, didn’t see much reason not to, though my husband later wished he could have gone along, that’s just who he is. I had paid Legal Zoom to prepare all of the paperwork since such things make my head spin (like taxes), so I felt prepared. The court clerk was helping someone else before me. As I waited and couldn’t help overhearing how this woman had already filed a restraining order against her husband and was trying to finalize a divorce that seemed to have been dragged out, my heart hurt. I felt fine otherwise, but she began to cry and I wanted to comfort her but who the hell was I to this person, ya know?

Soon it was my turn at the clerk’s window. I handed over my stack of papers and said, “I would like to file for divorce, please.” with the meekest smile that ever crawled across my lips. The clerk began to go through the papers and soon started shouting what seemed to me to be random letters and numbers, getting louder and more insistent with each repetition. I was taken aback and stunned and confused. This was certainly apparent on my face as the clerk became overly flustered. “I understand what you’re saying, but I don’t know what those letters and numbers mean.” I pleaded. Finally, and I mean a good five minutes of this bullshit, she explained that I had in my packet an extra and unnecessary form. Why she couldn’t simply say this from the start I don’t know, but she slid it back to me under the security glass and I tucked it away from her sight. After that, all was done and I was told I’d be contacted for my court date.

I drove home, it was still pretty early in the day, about 10 or 11 am at the latest. I text a couple of friends, I didn’t contact my husband that day.  A sinking feeling took hold of me. Then wave after crashing wave of inexplicable sadness. I was so confused and felt abandoned and more alone than ever before in my life. “But why?!?!” I kept thinking and even whimpering to myself in my dim and later dark bedroom. It felt like mental hell, but I couldn’t figure out why and that was the worst of all. Then, finally, hours later, a bff I had known for over twenty years replied to my text from that morning, “Yeah, it just feels like the worst failure ever, even when you know it was the right thing to do. Ride it out.” (They are not the empathetic or compassionate sort. We’ve since lost touch.)

It did feel like the worst failure ever. I had an amicable split and remained close friends. We weren’t happy together, but we didn’t really fight or ever betray or lie to each other. Others thought we had the perfect relationship, and in a lot of ways we did, but I knew better. I left to find an identity for myself outside of any relationship, something I had never in my life had. I felt compelled to leave, it was what I wanted and needed to be happy or to at least seek the happiness I thought the world might hold for me. Yet I couldn’t avoid the feeling of failure. I wasn’t talking to my family at all by this point, but my grandma is always in my heart and mind. Would she understand? (She had passed just a few months before I was married, but we’d been engaged for 3 years, together for 6 before then.) I forced myself to face these demons alone in my room that day and evening. It felt like facing death. (I was not so well versed in the ways of my panic attacks at that time. Now I would have recognized the preceeding symptoms and possibly have been able to prevent the eight hours of crying and hyperventillating.)

After about eight hours (I know how dreadful that sounds and I can assure you it felt worse), something finally gave and I started to feel a sense of why this all was. It was for me! It was my choice, I did this to create the life I wanted. This mattered so much! It felt like a beacon of light from within myself. It felt like a baby step towards the person I wanted to become, my truest self. It felt like a friendly and helping hand, only from within. I put on some music and lay on my bed, wrapped in blankets, still fully clothed from that morning’s outing. I tried to envision the life I wanted to carve out of the world for myself. I pictured dancing, laughing, hugging fellow rad fatties, creating and crafting, touching and moving, all seemed to be in support of myself through the service and support of others. And that realization was a breakthrough. I didn’t leave my room until the following day, but I felt loads better before actually finding solace in sleep.

I spent five years of my teens in a physically and emotionally abusive relationship. It had stripped away more than just my identity. It left me physically and mentally destroyed. Escaping was an obsession, but I was mostly obsessed with who would or could save me. In the end, I saved myself, with the support of one of the few friends I had in the world (though when they re-entered my life I barely knew them). They sensed something was very wrong without knowing exactly what. They offered me a place to live twenty miles away from my abuser. While it wasn’t exactly that simple and straightforward, it did truly save my life, they saved my fucking life! We never talked about what was wrong or why I needed to leave, no one wanted to, especially me. They were going through a divorce at the age of eighteen, I was lost and terrified at age nineteen. We became great friends for a time, we had fun and leaned on each other for support. I’ll never forget the first week after I had moved in, we had an epic whipped cream fight after buying a pumpkin pie at the store.

It took me years of self-loathing, both related and completely unrelated to my body and eating disorder issues, some damaging behaviors, and risky encounters before I finally met someone who saw me for me. That was when I met who would later become my husband. We were friends at first, but abuse survivors recognize each other, even unconsciously. We bonded over that shared pain and fell in love when we both split from our relationships. I still love my now ex-husband, but I can’t speak for their feelings for me. I left when I realized that all of the trying in the world on my part wouldn’t amount to a hill of beans if they refused to do anything at all to save our marriage. I had saved myself before, but this time I had to save us both by leaving. It hurt, a fuck ton!

This time I had no more self-loathing, I had healed most of the harm done to me at the hands of others and myself and had very few fucks left to give. I had never lived alone, though. I had found a room for rent about three blocks away from my husband and best friends apartment building. My new roommate was a stranger to me and it took us both a long time to warm up to one another, though we were always kind and accommodating. There were no distractions, though, not even from myself. I was forced to deal with all that I hadn’t until that point. It was hard, and it was powerful. What I had was a better foundation within myself and support system in my friends.

Years later I finally enjoy being alone. I often prefer my own company, and that of my puggo, to general socializing. I have been through another fucked up long-term relationship, an even more fucked up breakup, mental and physical trauma from a couple of terrible jobs, but I have and know myself more than ever! I know what I am capable of and feel quite certain and sure of myself. I have found great strength and inspiration in the works of the Bronte sisters and Luisa May Alcott. The women in their books often had nothing at all but themselves and yet they didn’t die and even when they failed and flailed and struggled through the most desperate of times, they held onto that inner sense of self for strength and persevered.

I now see the world and my own life’s journey very different than even just a year ago. I am beholden to no one but myself (and my ridiculous puggo). Yet I feel more supported and loved and wanted and needed in the world than ever before in my life! I’m broke as shit, have been unemployed for two and a half months and have had to face some severe depressive episodes, but I feel strong. I feel more me.  Sometimes I feel the tap on my shoulder of depression or the whisper in my ear of self-loathing and self-harm, but I know that deep down, even if I succumb to those often unavoidable moments and spells, I will pull through and be a better me on the other side of it. I can face these things head on even when I don’t get a toe-hold before they take possession of me for awhile.

Yes, I have friends that make me feel cared for and loved and seen, but what makes that possible is that I am able to do that for myself, too (though not consistently, I’ll confess). It takes a shitload of self-work, self-reflection, and exploration, sitting with feelings that make me want to scream and run and crawl out of my skin, being the most vulnerable with myself and deciding to just fucking own it. I no longer run from my aloneness. I don’t avoid the deeper and darker crevices of my own mind. I sometimes prefer to dig even deeper because I know it will be meaningful and provide perspective and growth that others simply cannot provide. I have to be here for me first, before anyone else, or I won’t survive. And I have been through far too fucking much to hide from all of that again.

I have found incredible strength and inspiration, especially very recently, by those who have found some value in my words and stories here on this blog. I know I don’t write like others, I still struggle with some hidden shame in that, but I love that I am able to help others find their inner light and strength by sharing my own and how I got here, how I keep fighting and trusting in the journey that this life has given me. I cherish each voice and story that reaches me. I see you. I hear you. I feel you. I love you. It is an awe inspiring thing to connect in this way and I thank you ever so much for coming along for the ride.

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,
<3
S

P.S. Check out and use the hashtag: #FatAndFree on Insta & FB!

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (and updated daily): http://on.fb.me/1A18fAS 

Or get the same “shared” content on Twitter: @NotBlueAtAll

I also have an Instagram I’ve finally started to actually use: https://instagram.com/notblueatall/

And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.): notblueatall@notblueatall.com

Apply for that job. Date that person. Buy that plane ticket.
Move to that city. Do all the things that scare you, because they’re worth it.

What have you held yourself back from doing?
Who in your life has insisted you couldn’t do something?
Have you been told you can’t do something simply because of your size?
Has fear kept you from living your most authentic life?
What would you do, right now, if you knew you couldn’t fail or be hurt or shamed?

One of my nearest and dearest friends, Tigress, posted something along these lines on her iofthetigress page and I found myself typing my own responses before reading what others had written. I just immediately knew what that list was and how much I’ve done in my life despite what others said I couldn’t or shouldn’t. My list of things I’ve done feels both bigger and smaller now than they did when I did them. Time is a funny thing! Haha!

It is a terrible thing to allow others to steal your thunder, to crush your dreams, and worst of all, make you doubt yourself and what you’re capable of. These things become impossible to affect you once you stop caring what anyone else thinks of you. They are also impossible to live with if you want to live a life of our own making and choosing. At a certain point, you have to decide what is best for you. No one else can do that but you.

At the age of 14, I was part fearless and partly lost. It was an exciting time, it was a dangerous time. I’m quite certain that many who knew me then but didn’t keep in touch would assume the worst of my life’s course from that point on. Luckily, I’m one helluva survivor and fighter when I need to be. It is unfortunate that I had needed to be at such a young age and for so long after.  An abusive boyfriend took control of every aspect of my life and identity, though I escaped five years later, it left me a shell of my former self. I literally had to start over from scratch. I really don’t want to call it a blessing. I’ll never know what those important and formative years could have meant for my life’s trajectory, but it is what I survived and formed the individual that I am today.

Finding love in a friend and bonding over our mutual life traumas created a relationship that was strong, long lasting, if not entirely healthy. We were young and broken. We tried to fill each other’s brokenness, but never addressed our own on our own. Instead of telling each other that a traditional marriage wasn’t really our thing, we both entered into that institution thinking it the only way to stay together. We spent so much of our lives not living for ourselves but for each other. That likely sounds normal and right to many of you, but I can assure it is not. Making life decisions for yourself so that you won’t upset or lose the other person is not an authentic life at all. You begin to live a lie and lose yourself and all that you are in the relationship. That is the reason I left my marriage, after fifteen years together in life. I can assure you that nothing has scared me more than leaving my best friend. I am not sure I would make that same decision knowing what I do now, but it felt absolutely necessary at the time.

“If you feel safe in the area you’re working in, you’re not working in the right area. Always go a little further into the water than you feel you’re capable of being in. Go a little bit out of your depth. And when you don’t feel that your feet are quite touching the bottom, you’re just about in the right place to do something exciting.” David Bowie

When I first had the idea to open my own cafe, it seemed so ridiculous and far-fetched. I went to my nearest and dearest friends with the idea, secretly hoping they’d talk me out of it immediately. They did not. They cheered me on, lent a helping hand, and encouraged me every step of the way. Every second of that, we’ll call it a project or obsession as it was never a lifelong sort of dream, felt terrifying. And yet it is one of my proudest achievements! It taught me so much about myself, what I’m capable of, who my true friends are, and where I do and don’t belong in the world (business is the short answer). It was absolutely the hardest thing I have ever done on my own terms. I had so many business professionals insist that what I wanted to do was pointless, fruitless, if not downright impossible. I defiantly smiled right into their faces and said, “You don’t get it. So, watch me!”

What other great big scary things have I done? I started fat positive meet up groups a few times. I started this blog and talked about so many things others call taboo. I organized 2, some may say legendary, fat positive events in San Jose that were free and open to the public: Fatty Affair! I have become a regular performer in the annual big moves bay area dance shows, both as a dancer and later as a singer. I have walked a fashion runway three times now (once in lingerie), though each time it feels so ridiculous and not “me” at all. Haha! I have walked an imaginary runway in front of a group of not imaginary strangers completely naked. I have been photographed completely nude for Adipositivity. I have flown in a helicopter in Maui, even though I had to buy two seats…it was gloriously worth it! I have been to Paris and Rome and a large portion of Ireland. All at a size 26/28 or roughly 300 lbs. Yeah, I did that shit! It was scary as fuck each and every time! But I did those damned things and no one can take that away!

We can’t allow others, the haters, to dictate our lives! Whatever obstacles you may have, I hope you will stop holding yourself back from living your best life! You deserve to have and be whatever you want! Get out of your comfort zone and Choose You! You’re worth it!

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,
<3
S

P.S. Check out and use the hashtag: #FatAndFree on Insta & FB!

Donate to this blog here: https://www.paypal.me/notblueatall

My blog’s Facebook page for things I share that aren’t on this blog (and updated daily): http://on.fb.me/1A18fAS 

Or get the same “shared” content on Twitter: @NotBlueAtAll

I also have an Instagram I’ve finally started to actually use: https://instagram.com/notblueatall/

And as always, please feel free to drop me a line in comments here or write me an email, I love hearing from readers. (Tell me your troubles, I don’t judge.): notblueatall@notblueatall.com

I want to thank the readers of this blog for the endless support and inspiration! It was a reader comment on a masturbation related post that lead to this one. Please comment with your thoughts, tricks, and tips! This post is centered around vagina having humans who may have trouble reaching said vagina for pleasurable penetration/stimulation. If this is a topic you’d rather not read about, or would prefer to not know my own preferences and experiences on the subject, I hope you will return another day or dig into the archives for some fat-positive fun!

**********************

To begin with, I just want to say that there is nothing wrong or shameful with self-stimulation and masturbation, period. I think everyone should be getting off in whatever comfortable and safe way they see fit, regardless of size, ability, gender, age, race, etc. We all deserve pleasure and it has been proven time and again in scientific and medical journals that masturbation is a healthy practice! It’s heart healthy and stress relieving, we all need more of that!

***Please do not masturbate in public or in front of others without their prior and expressed consent. Thanks!!!***

I have what myself and my BFF call a “B-Belly” because it sort of looks like the letter B in profile, or a double belly if you will.  While I have taught myself to love what my body has to offer, it can occasionally present issues in the boudoir and without. I also have a knee that won’t bend very far, so some things I simply cannot do without accommodation. There are other things, like using a menstrual cup, that I can do that other friends simply cannot. This is because of reach. It could be for a variety of reasons, but for me, it’s my boobs and belly often get in my way or prevent my reaching. (Seriously, restroom sinks/counters are the bane of my existence.)

I hope you can try these or any self-pleasure experience in a relaxed state and take your time, too! Try not to have any expectations other than fun and exploration. Getting to know yourself in your own way, in your own time, is so important and exciting, but also the first step, I believe, in being an even greater lover for others. We all just wanna have fun, but when you know what you want you can make your lover feel more confident in pleasuring you, too! It also takes some of the pressure off when you’re first getting acquainted with someone new, or yourself for the first time. Set the mood, take some time, breathe deep into the glory of all that is you and your fabulous body and how amazing it can feel!

I realized that I had only mentioned the subject of reach, previously, and I have a couple of options that may work for you, but please see this as a starting point and not the end-all of what may work best for you. Positions for digital or toy penetration may prove difficult depending on your personal flexibility and mobility levels, but I have found that laying on my back, with a pillow or two under my butt/hips, and my legs straight up the wall in a v-shape, provided more access/reach. It sort of redistributed my belly/boobs in such a way that allowed me to reach, and because this of just who I am I guess, I quite enjoy the scenery of my topography, too!

Another old favorite for me is a sort of squat position with my back against the wall or even just against the side of my bed with my feet on the floor (this is how I first discovered that I squirt/ejaculate, so have fun and don’t be alarmed if things get wet – I panicked). The edge of my bathtub (when I had one) also worked great for getting a wide enough spread for better reach, though I prefer my massaging showerhead than penetration in that position, I did occasionally throw in my “Lucid Dreams” when the mood demanded it (I friggin’ love that toy – mine is old enough that the vibration died but the shape of it hits my g-spot perfectly)!

My immediate thought for reach for vaginal penetration was to suggest a dildo with a suction cup base. I have personally tried this, though I was a bit too excited by the idea, and ordered a size far too large for my anatomy. I have had friends who have used this style in the shower (suctioned to the wall for a bent over position), the tub ledge -if you have one- for a seated option, and even suctioning it to the toilet seat lid (sounds strange but they really liked the height of their toilet). This seemed like a cheaper option for me at the time, but as I quickly regretted my size choice, I also struggled to get the base to stay stuck on my bathroom tile. I will always recommend reading reviews online, but if you have an awesome store in your area like we have Good Vibrations here, where it is a friendly, inviting and educational environment, I hope you will ask your local experts, too!

I happen to be friends with a couple of sex education professionals and my BFF who has taught fat specific sex workshops, so I hit them up for ideas, too! They suggested some toys you may be interested in checking out and I can vouch at least for the womanizer pro 40, though pricey (it was a 40th B-day gift from my BFF), and only for clitoral stimulation, once I got used to it, it became quickly my preferred toy (even over my magic wand!). If you already have a magic wand (or a knockoff) you might check out an attachment for g-spot stimulation, mine came with two attachments, one straight and one curved. I remember enjoying the hell out of those and the wand provided more than ample reach. I have always wanted a glass dildo, but have never tried one. I’ve heard that the option to heat or chill the glass is a nice thing to play with. Please do look into different materials and how best to care for them. Regardless of your own personal hygiene, different toys require different care and cleaning solutions, so be aware before buying and never share an unclean toy.

Please also check out the fat-specific sex shopping guide here, as provided by my friend Andy: https://www.goodvibes.com/s/sex-toys/c/gv206/shopping-guides/shopping-guides/fat-positive-shopping-guide You can find more content/info and fun on Twitter and Instagram @GoodVibesToys and @EducatorAndy

I hope you find what works best for you! And either comment here or let me know what you think: notblueatall@notblueatall.com

Rad Fatty Love to ALL,
<3
S

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