(Fuck you)I’m Still a Woman

I saw it happen to someone today and it reminded me of what I went through myself.

I remember struggling under the weight of a massage table and my various bags while some asshole chatted on his phone just outside the door. Once I was inside I paused to readjust my shoulder strap and watched as this summer’s eve opened the door for a thin woman who was carrying only a purse.
I
Was
Pissed.

I began to notice it everywhere.

-Clothing stores that cut off sexy at a size 12
-Television shows where the hefty girls are comedic relief, the dateless best friend, the asexual sidekick, the compassionate caretaker.
-People thinking that I was strong or capable of physical labor they would not have asked someone half my size to even consider.
-Websites and comments that compare women of size to animals and furniture,
-Classified as pretty but never beautiful, photographed boobs up.

This idea by the general population that my weight makes me invisible as a person and non applicable as a woman.

(fucking sigh)

My dress size does not dictate the diverseness my femininity!

My “Womyness” is something within,
It goes past my hips and thighs and as my trans sisters can attest to it is deeper than even my vagina.
It is not measured by the size of my breasts or their ratio to my stomach.

The honor of being a woman is something you are born with.
Not something that is earned.
Not a gift given to you.

So fuck you society. You don’t get to take this away from me.
You don’t get to take away the feeling of hands brushing up my legs, or silk curling around my sides.
You don’t get to take away the thrill of the tease or the batting of eyes.
I will not surrender to you and consider this shell to be a sin.
I will not pay a penance for my plumpness.

I defy you with every v-neck top
Every short skirt
Every lacey bra
Every ruby red kiss
Every dip of my hips
Every laugh of joy and cry of orgasmic release.

You don’t get to tell me who or what I am.

You don’t get to tell that woman… that beautiful beautiful woman who she is either.

Baby Mushrooms

For those of you who don’t know we are kinda spoiled out here in California.  Some people out here are actually shocked to realize that racism still exists. When I recount stories from my childhood they cringe and say ooooooommmmmgeeeeeeee seriously dude.  They are rather dismayed to find that in certain areas of the United States your life expectations, habits, and activities are still dictated by the color of your skin. There is a whole list I could go into but near the top of that list is dating outside of the race.

 

Riiiing

me: Sup

~~:Hey

me: Haven’t heard from you in a while

~~:Yeah… hey you really dating a white boy

me: ummmm yeah

~~:Yeah so you couldn’t date me but you could date him

me: ummmm yeah

~~:is it because he’s white

me: ummmm no it’s because he doesn’t suck… you know… like you.

 

 

 

Riiiiiiing

me: Hello

~~:Hello

me: Omgeee I haven’t heard from you in forever!!!

~~:Yeah how your people and them

me: Good, where yah at darlin

~~:so so… so I heard that you are dating a white boy

me: You mean man

~~:Yeah “The Man” and I was thinking that maybe its just a phase like when you were a lesbian

me: I was never a lesbian

~~:I knew it!

me:No I never thought I was a lesbian I thought I  was bisexual

~~:oh well yeah that phase

me:It wasn’t a phase I was just confused

~~:Yah you were

me: I wasn’t lesbian or bisexual I’m totally pansexual

~~:Pah-what?!  What the hell is that?  Is that even a word? That’s some shit you just made up.  Look whatever… just think about what you’re getting into.

 

 

Riiiing

me: What

~~:(laughing)

me: What do you want

~~:I got a joke for you

me: Keep it

~~:Aww come on it’s quick… knock knock

me: (silence)

~~:Knock Knock

me: (silence)

~~:Knock Knock

me: (sigh) Who’s there

~~:Guess

me: Guess who

~~:Guess Who’s coming to dinner!!!!! Bahahahahahahahaha

me: Damn’t you suck!!! I’m hanging up!!!!

 

Okay so far and to date I’ve been accused of giving up on my black brothers, conspiring to “wash the line” (non-withstanding the fact that my ovaries are most likely completely useless) giving into a slave mentality and hating my own blackness. This is a complete double standard.

 

I didn’t take this much heat for dating a white woman.

 

~le sigh

anyways… I kinda expected all this so no big deal.  It’s comical and something to blog about.  I was bouncing along pretty fine.  I had pre planned witty retorts tucked in all my pockets and a mug full of fuck you for the next person who was gonna preach to me about my failure as a black woman.  I was ready for anything

 

Anything except that old woman.

 

There is this woman I bump into sometimes… she calls me fat alot and gives me oranges.  I think this means she cares about me.   You maybe wondering why I subject myself to an old lady that verbally abuses me for my size then glares at me until I eat but she is totally the bees knees, gives great advice and is the exact kinda fuck-odd-devil-may-care-crazy I inspire to be at her age. She always asks me about my love life.  She is worried about me finding love since I am so fat.  She thinks I’ll die old and alone which is really awful since I’m such a nice girl.   When I told her that I was dating she asked if he was fat too and I told her no.  She thought this was good because I would lose weight with him.  She then asked what he looked like and I told her, eyes, height, haircolor…

“Is he white”

“Yes”

“Ohhhh you will have such beautiful babies!!!!!”

 

I nearly chocked on my orange. She went on excitedly for five minutes about how lovely  our interracial children would be and how she wanted pictures.  She even gave me an extra orange.  The whole conversation left me feeling off balanced.  It was one of the few times I was stunned to silence.  I know she meant it as a compliment…I think, but we just started dating and she is already plotting our chromosomal mash-up exchange and outcome.  Besides aren’t all babies supposed to be beautiful? Wait I can make that statement with a straight face…

 

I think

maybe…

 

Anywaysssssssssss, when I told him about it he kinda had the same reaction… “Did you thank her for planning the rest of our lives?”

 

She’s not the only one who said that either.

 

At first I felt the need to say/scream  that my all black babies would be lovely and so would his all white babies. I think its hilarious that the people who support us so much that they want us to reproduce are making me more uncomfortable than the nay sayers. So I had to chill out and think about it.  Maybe when they see people who have love for each other despite the divide of ethnic and social differences it gives them hope for the world coming together as a whole… or maybe they really do have a fetish for multicultural children.

 

We were at Trader Joes gathering supplies to make a salad with.

I suggested the white mushrooms because of the low price.

“The crimni have better coloring, same price”  And he grabs the brown mushrooms from the shelf.  I immediately become hypersensitive and hyper-aware… I even look around to see if anyone noticed.

“I think the white mushrooms have just as good coloring you know” I say defensively…  I may have pouted even.

 

He pauses and gives me an odd look… the one where he tilts his head to the side and kinda leans forward as if he is making sure that he is understanding what he is seeing.  I instantly stiffen and want to check my nose for buggers.  He pulls back and puts the brown mushrooms in the basket “You wanna know that I think… ”  He says as he slips his fingers through mine and steers me toward checkout “I think that if the crimini mushrooms and the white mushrooms got together they would have beautiful babies.”

#@#$%*$&@&#*$*@*@$!!!!!1!!!

Yawn and stretch) now that I have had some rest…..

Normally I paint a scene and give everyone a bit of background information but I feel that this incident of jackassery needs no such introduction

For suggesting that I lack the ability to do my job because I am fat.
Fuck you!!
Fuck you!!
Fuck You!!!!!!
I wish I had paid more attention in latin and biology class so that I could appropriately place you into the correct order, family, species, and genus of Ed Hardy Brotard you were obviously born into.

You know two years ago I would have cried. I would have been embarrassed. I would have not eaten for a week and then crawled inside a couple of cartons of Häagen-Dazs but now

Now I refuse to let some sizest shit head send me spiraling into a binge and purger.
Yeah I’m fat
and I’m also a damn skippy therapist
My size has nothing to do with my precision or skill you (insert all sorts of hyphenated f-bomb references to the vilest creatures imaginable) My deep tissue is a beast and my therapeutic precision capabilities have been trained tested and proven. So lets call a spade a spade. It wasn’t about the massage was it? It’s because as Kathryn put it “I didn’t make your dick hard”. If you wanted a massage you can jack off to you should have peeped the fucking metro jackass.

And while I’m on this mini massage rant
Little Miss Vanity… male massage therapist don’t want to molest you.
Homophobic Douche Bag… male massage therapist don’t want to molest you either and I know several tiny female massage therapists that will make you cry uncle with their deep tissue.

We are professionals… we go to school for this and judging our work based on size, sex or sexual-orientation makes you kinda suck

like a hoover.