I’ve been battling with this for quite some time now and, I’m ready to put all of my emotions out there and hopefully gain some connection to those who’ve been through something like this. My name is Briana, I’m 5’6” and I weigh 274 pounds.

When I was 6, my mother put me on my first official diet and, from then on, it’s been an uphill battle of fighting what seems to be the inevitable. It’s a constant cycle of her finding a new diet (this time it’ll be easier Briana! Just put the effort forth), giving me a big and grandiose speech about how we’re going to work ‘together’ to lose the weight, both of us using the new program for a few months, her deciding that she’s done and binge eating, and then me following in her footsteps because I have no choice since she stops buying the diet food. In between all of this my mother always makes comments about my weight, my looks, my ‘laziness’, and my dedication. And it hurts.

I’ve self harmed for about the past four year because I just could never, and really I still can’t, accept the idea that I’m okay the way I am. Mostly because I’ve never been told by my mother that I’m fine the way I am. It’s always, “Your eyes are so beautiful, but your cheeks are a little round.” or, “Don’t worry we’ll get the weight off before Prom so you can look beautiful in your dress.”, and finally “You’re gorgeous Briana! You just need to lose some weight and you’ll be happy.”

I’ve struggled through depression, anxiety, OCD, and insomnia for years now and I’ve kept it all bottled inside of me until around November. I walked up to my mother and showed her my scars, my cuts, and my pain. I refrained from telling her about my mini-battle with bulimia because I didn’t think she could handle it and I was able to overcome that myself a few years prior. While she was upset, of course, she couldn’t risk pointing the blame to herself. I told her that I hate myself, I told her that I purposefully walk certain ways so I don’t accidentally see my reflection, I told her that I feel so uncomfortable in my own skin that it doesn’t even feel like me.

Her reaction was, “Obviously this is because of your weight! We’re starting a new diet tomorrow.” And thus, the cycle started again. I’ve been suffering in silence for so long and while I definitely want to lose weight, I don’t want to do it for these reasons. It feels wrong to force this upon myself when I’m still battling so many other demons and I’m terrified that if I do manage to shed some pounds it’ll send me into a horrible remission. I never feel like I’m good enough for her and it’s reached it’s boiling point.

I’m not afraid to say this, I hate my mother. I love her because I have too but, I hate her for what she’s done. I hate her because I can’t even tell her about any of this because she’ll spiral out of control and put the blame on me while simultaneously making it about her. This has all come to a head in the past month and I’m doing my best to skate by. I’m going to college in a year so, hopefully I can manage. I’m still on the diet and I can already feel a sort of remission beginning, and not because I want it. Because my body is so preconditioned to punishing itself when these things occur. I’ve lost my appetite completely, I’ve been taking a surplus of vitamins and pills to upset my stomach so I don’t want to eat, and I only consume anything at dinner because my parents are both around.

A majority of this submission was to vent, as well as finally lay all of my cards out on the table and hopefully finds someone that understands me. My mother always asks me who my hero is and she scolds me when I don’t say it’s her. But how could she be my hero when one of my only goals in life is too never become her? So my question, pulled away from all of this emotion is, When does it stop becoming motherly love and start becoming bullying?

This is less of a problem and more of a moment of win and I wanted to share it with you guys, since you would understand.

I’m in my late twenties, but go shopping with my mom fairly regularly, since we’re both plus size and we live together, so we may as well, right?  Well, we had a stack of those Real Women Dollars things from Lane Bryant, so we went there yesterday.  While she was trying on a pair of jeans for a trip to Vegas in March, I was wandering around when I remembered about a dress that I’d seen on their website while bored-browsing one day.  I went to see if they had it, and if it was in my size.

LAST ONE IN MY SIZE IN THE WHOLE STORE.

I tried it on and just… It was one of those moments that I rarely ever get when I try something on at the store and I don’t want to change a thing about it, I just want to be like that gif of Fry from Futurama and be like “TAKE MY MONEY”.  I stepped out of the dressing room to show my mom, who also liked it.

When I got changed again, the clerk who’d been helping us out (we were trying to find a pair of boots, which they did not have, so she’d called a few other stores to see if they had them, no luck with the boots) told me that she thought the dress looked awesome on me.  I’m sure she was just trying to make sure I bought it, but I already thought it looked great and was not letting go of it.

Then she asked if I was planning on getting Spanx.

I do not like Spanx or other “shaping” garments.  Most of my weight is carried in my midsection, so, really, where’s it going to go?  That whole nonsense about it “pushing it into your boobs”?  Yeah, not on me.  It just makes a giant muffin top.  Besides that, I find shaping things to be an enormous hassle, as well as demeaning, restrictive, and just a huge pain in the ass in general.  I’d rather be comfortable and happy and able to laugh and eat and run around and take my clothes off without worrying about it. 

So I told her the truth.  I told her that I Jiggle and no matter what, I’m going to jiggle, so why spend $65 on a thing I’m almost never going to wear because I find them useless and uncomfortable?  She just laughed and gave me a high five.

And then I bought the dress, which is now hanging in my closet.  The only problem is that I have nowhere to wear it!  Maybe I’ll invite some people over for New Year’s Eve and have a little party, just so I can wear it soon.

This is the dress.  I’ve never had a lace dress before, since I never found one that looked right (most lace things I’ve found in my size are ruched, and with my weight being mostly in my belly, the ruching becomes flat).

Hi!

I’m trying to stay on track with keeping the posts queued so there aren’t any long gaps with no new posts. And attempting to get to all of the messages in the inbox. So I’ll continue to do my best with that! 

But we need more submissions/stories, please! We’re always looking for positive/negative perks and problems, but we’re currently also asking for stories about your struggles/triumphs/anything to do with your experiences with body image, no matter your size or shape! 

Thanks darlings,

Olive

I’ve been big since I was 7 and I’ve been bullied because of my size, I hated my self for a while. I did diets starting at 8. At 15 I didn’t want to do it anymore I didn’t want to change and I wasn’t unhappy because of it, it was because of other people that I felt the need to look like them because they made me feel like it was wrong. Now I’m 18 and 250 lbs I want to lose some weight because I don’t feel healthy and I’d like to be able to go into shops and just buy a pair of jeans and know that they’ll fit me. It’s really hard to get into a mind set where you feel ready to make a lifestyle change but I think it’s impossible unless you love your body no matter how big small or curvy it’s always going to be beautiful. 

i just wanted to say something. earlier that person asked if this blog was real, and then they said more hurtful things. after i read that i literally felt like crap all day. ive been battle something for about a year now. my doctor said my body is basically going through menopause because i have these cysts inside, outside my ovaries, and they found one in my fallopian tubes. im 21 years old. my hormones are out of whack i have no control of my emotions or weight. i work out so much sometimes i get really sick from not eating while busting my buns. when i started to feel sick with bad cramps the doctors told me basically “oh youre too heavy cramps should die down if you eat right” so in the beginning i used to jog 6 miles a day use my home gym and did p90x like a pro. in a year nothing changed. ive been debating on a hysterectomy because i cant do this anymore. and i more so i cant deal with all the pain because i love my size!

when i read that post this morning asking if we are real i almost cried. people judge and they dont even know. why is it that people can believe a skinny person can eat whatever they want, not work out and still be a twig, but they cant believe a chunkier person working out all day long eating right with no results? its a double standard.

i was really hurt. but now i realize i let some anon ruin my perfectly good day. and i am actually happy being size 16, with my big old lady lumps. im 21 on the way to 22. i live my life i actually have a lot of boyfriends, boys do love us girls! and sometimes i like to take promo pictures for my favorite dance clubs because they like my look and not the skinnier girls. i drink i have fun. i live my life and honestly i do not judge others. and i got to thinking, the odds of that anon being over 18 is very low. lol probably still listening to the parents and having a curfew. but i dont know for sure because i will not judge even though others judge me. its just sounded like the voice of an ignorant teen who doesnt know any better.

i love this blog so much. i love love love olive. but props to stella too! thank you guys for helping me get through a tough year.

My name is Sasha and I’ll actually be eighteen years old this month. And I should mention that I’m not female or male, I don’t identify with any gender. But I figured I would submit this because it might help someone else.
From the time I was able to eat solid food my father had been teaching me bad eating habits, that is to say, I’d eat the food my mother gave me which was healthy and in a good moderation, and then my father would take me on his lap and feed me half of his plate. He endorsed my eating disorder my entire life, giving me lunch my mother would pack him for work when he didn’t eat it, creating the idea that portions that were four times what one should probably eat, were okay to eat. It got to the point where in first grade I weighed a hundred and ten pounds. I kept growing through life, my mother struggling to keep me on a diet and the diet failing when I would sneak into food even when I didn’t really want to. Around sixth grade I hit my all time low (and not in weight) I laid in my room all day after school, I never went outside or did anything and the dysfunction in my home life didn’t help, it made it all worse. I also suffered mental abuse from family members, cast out of their little cliques due to deeply rooted vendettas from my childhood that people who should have been mature adults never let go, and therefore treated me bad to make up for the crimes another committed. In my adolescent years all of this was fuel to the fire and I only got worse. Around fifteen I began to discover who I was deep down, and I pulled myself out of the ashes per say. The path was slippery and though my B.E.D didn’t get better, understanding that it wasn’t my fault that it was there and that it was an actual addiction and disorder healed a lot of the emotional wounds it caused. I’m seventeen now, soon to be eighteen and I’ve started on the larger and longer path to not being better, because the reality is I’m perfect to me. But getting healthier. And the main thing I’ve learned on my journey is to not try and live up to the standards of what others believe beauty is. /YOU/ have to live with you at the end of the day. Don’t think skinny, think healthy. I’ve often thought about just not eating at all and that isn’t the answer, and it gets you no where. I’m six feet and five inches tall and weigh about five hundred pounds. I am in every sense of the word “Big.” I have a big heart, a big mouth and a big voice. But I’m also a million amazing things no one can take care of me because I’m living for me at the end of the day, not someone else’s idea of who I should be. Only a handful of people are roots to your tree, don’t hang onto the words of a leaf because they fly away while your in the same place, changing constantly but holding onto what they said because you didn’t know better. Be you, be proud of that, and remember that FALLING IS A PART OF THE JOURNEY. Deciding everyday after every slip to stand back up and keep going is how you make it. Life may seem like hell, but if you are going through hell, keep going. And love yourself. Because there is a whole great big future waiting out there for you, you just have to get to it. And it’s as fabulous and wonderful as you always dreamed. 
 -Sasha Matthias Owens

I don’t use the word “Fat.” Simply because people make it a hateful word. I’m plump, it’s positive and it sounds fun. I’ve always been plump, and have been bullied for it. But when I see that people are embracing it and showing how proud they are, it makes me feel welcome and a part of something. When I see this blog I can’t help but feel proud of myself for being plump. Thank you so much for helping me believe in myself :)

I’ve wasted so much of my life believing that my entire worth was summed up in what people saw when they looked at me. And being fat therefore meant I was worth nothing. It meant that all of my thin friends and siblings were automatically better than me, that they were what people wanted. It meant that my dreams of acting or being a famous musician were impossible. Society likes everything big, its cars, its houses, its wallets, but not its women.  

 After years of being ignored began to give up. The only place I was happy was with my family and the few friends who treated me as equals, in my own world where I shut out everything negative about society and its standards that I didn’t measure up to. When a handsome guy walked by I automatically believed that he was not interested. You begin to accept the way society treats you and believe that you aren’t good enough because you’re not thin, or pretty. You listen to the bullshit people say about how easy it is to lose weight, people who are thin and have always been thin and have no fucking idea how PAINFUL it is on every single human level to be fat in a thin world, people with no empathy or understanding.

For a while there, I was almost convinced. Almost.

But over years of intense introspection I began to say, you know what, FUCK that. No one is going to tell me what I’m worth. The entirety of who I am is absolutely NOT defined by what I look like. And I don’t want to know or be around anyone who thinks that of me or anyone else. There is so much more to a person. SO much more. Its ridiculous to measure a person’s value based on something as uncontrollable and meaningless  as how they look. Once I began to realize this, I became happier. It helped me sift through all the bullshit people and ideas that we’re subjected to daily. It helped me see what really matters in life.

I don’t see myself as a victim. Society and the people in it who believe in the bullshit that thin and pretty equals value are the victims. They are the ones missing the point that what really matters is not what is seen, but in what is felt. In what is learned and enjoyed. They are the ones missing out, not me. 

I am 19 years old. I am 5 feet, 10 inches tall. I’m a Pisces. Music is my life. I play guitar, piano, and I sing. I paint. I love to draw. I love to read. I love film. I love swimming. I’m a makeup artist. And one day, I hope to be an actress. I’m messy. I hate doing dishes, but I love doing laundry. I bite my nails. I say yellow is my favorite color, but I think it actually might be blue. I find crooked teeth to be attractive. I like guys with long hair. I thinks brown eyes are beautiful. I like people with weird quirks and talents. And LEAST important of all, I’m fat. I’m 228 pounds and shrinking.

Who are you?

Okay! So we’re not going to stop posting the perks/problems of being curvy, but we’d also like to start posting some uplifting/inspiring stories about the plus sides of being curvy. These stories can be about how you came to accept your body, struggles you went through, any sort of triumph, weight loss… we’re looking for pretty much anything related to body image.

As always, we won’t flood your dashboard with text posts, but we thought it would be nice to give people a chance to tell their stories and reinforce the fact that no one is alone and we all share the same struggles.

We’re looking forward to seeing what you girls have to say :)

- Olive and Stella