this is my body, deal with it.

WARNING: The following picture might be considered obscene because subject is not thin. And we all know that only skinny people can show their stomachs and celebrate themselves. Well I’m not going to stand for that. This is my body. Not yours. MINE. Meaning the choices I make about it are none of your fucking business. Meaning my size IS NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS.

If my big belly and fat arms and stretch marks and thick thighs offend you, then that’s okay. I’m not going to hide my body and my being to benefit your delicate sensitivities.

This picture is for the strange man at my nanny’s church who told me my belly was too big when I was five.
This picture is for my horseback riding trainer telling me I was too fat when I was nine.
This picture is for the girl from summer camp who told me I’d be really pretty if I just lost a few pounds
This picture is for all the fucking stupid advertising agents who are selling us cream to get rid of our stretch marks, a perfectly normal thing most people have (I got mine during puberty)
This picture is for the boy at the party who told me I looked like a beached whale.
This picture is for Emily from middle school, who bullied me incessantly, made mocking videos about me, sent me nasty emails, and called me “lard”. She made me feel like I didn’t deserve to exist. Just because I happened to be bigger than her. I was 12. And she continued to bully me via social media into high school.

MOST OF ALL, this picture is for me. For the girl who hated her body so much she took extreme measures to try to change it. Who cried for hours over the fact she would never be thin. Who was teased and tormented and hurt just for being who she was.

I’m so over that.


Self-portrait by Stella

reblogged from

About Stella:

I struggled with body image my whole life. As a young teen, I was diagnosed with Polycystic ovarian syndrome. PCOS makes it incredibly hard to lose weight, and spikes up your insulin levels which can lead to diabetes and other complications. I felt like I was just getting bigger and bigger and could do nothing to stop it. I was so awkward and uncomfortable with what I looked like that I began to self-medicate in the way most teenagers do, except it was to a scary excess. Finally, my parents intervened and when I was 15 I got the help I needed. The past 2 and a half years have essentially been a struggle to come to terms with who I am and live life in a constructive, not destructive manner.

A couple weeks ago, I started a blog, just as a way to get out my thoughts and feelings. I found the body acceptance movement online, and it was like my eyes were open for the first time. I realized that my size or weight is not something to be ashamed of, it is a part of me. Health and weight are not synonymous, and I know that to be healthy means to manage my sobriety and PCOS the best that I can. I may not ever be thin, but that’s okay. It’s all about progress, not perfection.
So I posted a picture of myself in my underwear with a message to all the people who’d ever bullied me about what I looked like. Amazingly, in less than a week, it got over 50,000 likes and reblogs. It’s upwards of 80,000 now, and the response has been 90% positive, I would say.
Two friends of mine, Savanna and Lucy, are in the process of planning a documentary on sizeism and its effect on young girls. My dream is to go back to my middle school, where all my body image issues began, and work with young girls on the issues of self-esteem, body image, sizeism, and bullying. I want to give these girls something I never knew, which was that your body does not define who you are as a person. To people who judge people on their size, weight, pants size or health – shame on you. No one is the authority on beauty, and everyone has a different road to trudge to happy destiny.

3 thoughts on “this is my body, deal with it.

  1. one thing about life in Mozambique is the pool, especially if you have kids…the pool. It´s always summer here and kids want to swim, so I often had to spend lengthy afternoons at the pool . Nowhere can you observe human behaviour so accurately, I believe (but of course through generalization, only, can I say that.)
    I find it fascinating how most Mozambican females seem to not suffer from any of the stereotypical weight issues. They show up in the skimpiest gear imaginable and then they start performing, dancing, walking around the pool like real divas. None of them look like the sticks you find in the mags and adverts. Some foreigners have a different poise, even the really skinny ones, they often seem very self- conscious and only really move around to get in and out the pool, staying in their chairs and burning their really white bodies into crisps. They are truly provocative, these Mozambican females, and really, they are truly beautiful. It´s a love for their bodies that shine through, you can notice it even just in the way they walk.
    There really is no one who is the authority here, just yourself.

  2. well i used to be that stick (even to some point in a magazine..although i wasnt cut out for modelling)..and i was bullied a lot,because of my stick/skeleton figure. alike the teenage girl/female who has a lot more weight;who is often picked on.. i felt really deeply unhappy about my body.. i think that females should unite more instead of comparing bodies. it took a long time to accept my body,only until a few years ago i wasnt really happy to take my clothing off near pool,lake or beach. so painfully aware. and then i figured;to hell,i want to enjoy my life/body/etc. i feel sorry for my girls because im so happy now to wear the skimpiest bikinis possible (would prefer naked) and during summer time to always be naked in the house

  3. i don’t think i will ever be comfortable taking my clothes off (and by that i mean even walking around in a swimming costume) in public. that makes me really upset, because as a young child, before the teasing happened, i was completely unselfconscious and liked nothing more than to get rid of the encumberment of clothes. i used to come home from primary school, rip off my shoes and socks and school dress and spend most afternoons playing in the garden in nothing but my panties. that all changed when i started being called “fatty” on the bus (i was never fat; just a little silkwormy in the way so many preteen girls are, before the chrysalis of teenage transformation hits… i think they were just using it as a taunt to get at me because i was just… different… and nothing else they tried really worked. it really worked.)… add to that the comments on my red hair, and my breasts (those still continue) and and and… i don’t think i will ever shrug off the discomfort and the need to protect myself from the eyes of strangers. if i am in private around people i trust, my feelings about being naked are entirely different. i am completely at ease.

    how i adored morrissey. the kink of this, too.

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