i hate the presumption that fat people don’t understand how you are apparently supposed to lose weight.
Like, do you think my skinny sister can tell you how many calories are in a serving of peanut butter? Or even how much a serving of peanut butter is? (2 tbsp, 190 calories) I can take a pretty good guess that she doesn’t look at her plate and think “1/4 protein, ¼ carbs, ½ vegetables”, or whatever similar chart is supposed to be the ideal portions.
I know that you do cardio to lose weight–anything else is just building and toning muscle. Crunches? Pushups? You can’t target weight loss, you can’t say “I just need to bring my stomach down a little, so I’ll do some crunches”. Doesn’t work that way.
I was watching This Is Us with my mother, and the fat representation in that show? Pretty damn good. But by far, my favorite joke, was when Kevin (thin/average) asked how many calories were in a glass of wine, and Kate and Toby (both fat) simultaneously stated it without hesitation. Cuz they know. Because they know how many calories are in what serving of anything because that is all anyone ever tells them to think about. When fat people eat, we apparently have to see all the numbers, and know what the breakdowns are (carbohydrates, sugar vs fiber, good trans fats, bad trans fats, etc. etc.)
like, yes, I’m fat. Yes I eat whatever I want. “Do you know how bad that is for you?” I’m probably more aware of how bad it is than you are. Let me eat my damn poptarts and drink my damn chocolate milk and stop showing your fake fucking concern for my health.
I’m wearing a tank top right now and for the first time in my life I don’t hate it. I totally think I could wear tank tops all summer maybe.
1st Phorm is a supplement company that makes the BEST protein I’ve ever had. I just ordered like 200 bucks worth of protein, BCAAs, and preworkout because I love their products so much. They also give free workout plans and nutrition plans. All the employees are certified trainers and nutritionists. They are more than just trying to sell me stuff. They want me to succeed. They are phamily.
For real though, I tried the ice cream sandwich flavored protein and OMG y'all. Soooooo good. It didn’t have the weird “I’m drinking protein” taste. Amazing.
Trying a new allergy med tonight.
Should be sleeping.
At the tournament I discovered a lot about myself and my karate and things I need to do to improve.
Came home and had dinner that night with friends from the dojo and had so much fun talking about when the mom of the family and I were in high school.
Today I hung out with friends and family and it was really good.
I've always hated my arms so I would never wear tank tops or anything that didn't have sleeves but it gets super hot here so this summer I have decided that I'm gonna just go for it and wear tank tops instead of burning up and so I bought a tank top and some fun bright teal pants and I wore it today and I actually felt good about it! Thank you for having this blog, it has truly helped me a bunch💖
Oh my god I bet you look so gorgeous in your new outfit!! I’m so proud of you! I hope you stay cool out there. So much love.
I hate it when it gets hot outside.
Hot weather = Tank Tops
Tank tops = Binder is showing
T-shirt = I fucking sweat to death
Binder = Almost rib crushing pain
Binder = Flat chest
Flat Chest = I’m happy because no dysphoria but above problems arise
regarding the hobi tank top post: i didn't like hobi at first, he was my least favourite member. now he basically double biases with yoongi because of the sugar free video where he was in a tank top because i fell in love with him and those aRMS. damn hobi damn
*cries while reading “i didn’t like hobi at first, he was my least favourite member”*
When I was fifteen I wore jeans and sweatshirts during the summer. I thought my thighs were too big because there was no gap. I hated how fat my arms were. I though everyone would look at my stomach with disgust. I started talking less and only about what I thought other people liked.
When I was seventeen I started wearing t-shirts, but still hated my arms. I looked at smaller girls and hated that I couldn’t bring myself to buy tank tops or bikinis. I didn’t even own a pair of shorts. I would look in the mirror and cry because I wasn’t beautiful without makeup, curled hair, and lacy tank tops. I tried not to laugh, everyone always said it wast too loud. I listened to music other people liked and only read at home.
When I was nineteen I bought a pair of shorts. I never wore them. I went out in 90 degree weather in jeans and sweaters. I woke up two hours early to get ready, but would leave ashamed of my image and full of hated. I stopped watching television. Music gave me headaches. I only pretended to care about things.
When I was twenty one I wore shorts. High waisted shorts that showed off my waist. I wore tank tops without sweaters. I didn’t layer clothes because I felt like my breasts made me look too heavy. I felt comfortable without makeup and messed up hair. I sang songs that aren’t on the radio. I read as much as I could. I talked too loud and fast about things that weren’t traditionally cool. And I laughed, I laughed so loud and I wasn’t ashamed.
It took me years to look and the mirror and be happy. It took me years to feel comfortable with who I was no matter what I was wearing. It took me years to enjoy things and share that joy with others. It took me years to find out what it meant to love oneself. And I’m not going to let someone take that away from me because they aren’t okay with who I am. I finally like me, and I’m not going to stop, ever.
I was tagged by the amazing @honeybadgersrock
5 things you’ll find in my bag:
-Pouch with lyrics
-Chap stick 5 things you’ll find in my bedroom: -Notebooks
-Books 5 things that make me happy: -Friends
-Making people smile 5 things I’m currently into: -Gabilliam
-Rain 5 things on my to do list: -Write more lyrics
-Put instrumentals to those lyrics
-Raise my grades
-Fix something I regret 5 things people may not know about me: -Despite me generally hating how I look, I constantly wear tank tops because I like how they look on me!
-I am okay at drawing, I mean I could be worse but, I usually actually like how they turn out
-I am an older sister to my lovely little sister who like to piss me off by taking my stuff
-I use slang a lot when I talk and I usually don’t finish my words completely
-I get crushes really easily but, they fade away after a couple days usually
I am so sorry this took so long to do, I didn’t have a stable wifi connection :(
I tag: @assistantofmisssaffron@theabandonedbook@leland-chapman-the-bounty-hunter@suchcovfefe@the-golden-trash-can-tm
C- Living with hyper-pigmentation has rendered my self-esteem basically non-existent. I haven’t worn a bathing suit in almost 15 years, a tank top in 17 years. I hate summertime the most. My friends all want to go swimming or to the beach and I can’t go. I am constantly wearing long-sleeves and hoodies. I avoid low-cut shirts and short-shorts. I don’t feel at all attractive and will even keep a shirt on during sex. I took it off once and although I was well-received, I felt disgusting and still regret it. I think about that one time I was entirely naked in front of this person and it makes me want to throw up. I make me want to throw up.
I find myself even in public staring at people who are able to show skin and it makes me anxious, jealous. It makes me question whether or not I will have any value to anyone if I can’t look like that. Why would someone choose me when they can choose someone they can actually stand to look at?
I haven’t told anyone about it. Some of my friends know I have hyper-pigmentation but, no one knows that it actually bothers me or that it makes me question myself constantly. I hate it so much. People don’t mean to be hurtful but, when they mistake my spots for “track marks” or ask “what happened to you?” It kills me. Nothing happened to me, I was born this way. I don’t do drugs, I never have.
Sad part is, I am a psychology student, lol. I know this level of self-esteem is not normal and I know my beliefs about myself are dangerously similar to body dysmorphic disorder but, I can’t stop. Whenever I look in the mirror or think about myself, I want to cry and/or vomit. Even writing this now I want to cry. I want to be considered “pretty” so bad but, any compliment I get, I disregard. My beliefs and behaviors, although founded, are not logical. And yet, I can’t stop. I guess a lifetime of sneers and probing questions really wears on you.
My family wonders why I think so negatively about my body, but somehow they fail to recognize the sexist pig I have for a father.
We cannot watch the news without him commenting on the reporter’s “bingo wings” when literally she is of average and healthy size. We cannot watch a commercial without him asking my mother if she thinks a spokeswoman is pretty. We cannot watch a sitcom without him complaining that the one female on the show has gained weight and wondering aloud if she’s pregnant then proceeding to announce that he hopes she looses the baby fluff. He points out attractive women to his wife and daughters while we are public. He points out heavier women and says that they are all lazy. He jokes to women about stroking their legs. He demeans them when they are his idea of attractive and criticizes them when they are not and then my family wonders why I hate my body.
He tells me that if I wear tank tops I will be sexualized. He whistles at me when I walk to my room in a towel. Once while I was going through the height of awkwardness during puberty I got up the confidence to wear shorts and he commented that I needed to eat less. And my family wonders why I hate my body.
This barely touches the surface of the awful things I have heard him say and my family wonders why I hate my body.
“Cal? Where did you put the remote for my TV?” I say walking into the living room, looking for my younger brother, I had been sick for awhile and looked sort of messy, large sweats, messy bun, no make-up and a spaghetti strap tank top on. “You know I hate when you watch TV in my room with you asking, and I can never seem to find the re-” I stop walking, dead in my tracks as I see the 4 boys staring at me. “Y/N we’re in the middle of practice!” Calum says, trying to shoo me out of the room. Michael, Luke, and Ashton all knew me, but they never saw this, my true form… the messy, bossy older sister who could probably use a shower.
I quickly run up the stairs and back into my room, shutting the door loudly before burying my face in the pillow of my bed. God dammit Cal, why didn’t you tell me you were going to have practice here. Suddenly having another sneezing fit from the aggravation, I sigh and blow my nose, rubbing until it is red. Oh God, I can’t imagine what I look like right now. ‘Y/N The Red-Nosed Reindeer.’ minus the cool antlers, cause lets face it, having antlers would be awesome. I sigh giving up on my quest for the remote control and cuddle up in my blankets once more.
There is a slight knock on my door before it opens and in walks Ashton, holding the remote in his hand, and some tea in the other. “Hey, Y/N. Calum told me you were sick.” He smiles handing me the remote and mug while sitting on the corner of my bed. “Yeah, a little obvious huh? I bet I look horrible.” I say blushing, Ashton was in my year at school and we were good friends, he was a little flirty and really nice, but I liked it. “Just a little.” he laughs before touching my hand to tell me he’s joking. It is obvious he’s had a crush on me. “I hope you feel better, Y/N.” he says, kissing my forehead before getting up.
“Ash you can flirt with my sister later, we need you to figure out the drum solo now.” Calum says peering through the doorway. “Shut up Calum.” I roll my eyes and hide my blushing face. Calum laughs and takes Ash downstairs, saying things like 'Okay, ground rules: She is my sister, I want to hear nothing about what you do with her. You respect her. Also, her time of the month is in 2 weeks so watch out, also buy her lots of chocolate during that time, as for yourself, some soundproof headphones. God knows they work for me.”
“Ashton! I need a hug.” I say opening my arms to my brother. “Y/N, you’re 18 stop acting like a weird child.” he says, smashing buttons while playing video games with Michael. I had been watching for a while but I got bored and suddenly felt the urge to be hugged, but apparently that wasn’t going to happen. “Well someone is grumpy.” I pout and put my arms down, crossing them over my chest. “Well that’s because someone is losing 29 to 14 on Call of Duty.” Michael laughs. “Shut up Michael.” Ashton grumbles, smashing more buttons, he truly was terrible at video games.
The couch dips next to me as Luke sits down, a plate of nachos in his hands. Luke Hemmings, does he ever stop eating? I stare up at him for a while just watching him eat before he notices and stares back. “Wha?” he asks, his mouth still full of nachos. I smile a bit, what a loser. Loser, yes. Cute, also yes. “Nothing.” he finishes eating and puts the plate on the table in front of him before stretching his arm back around me and laying back, and watching them play.
“Luke will you cuddle me?” I ask, shyly wrapping an arm around him. He blushes and wraps his other arm around me so that we are in an awkward couch sitting hug type thing. “Uh okay.” he smiles, moving his lip ring with his tongue.
“No you won’t Luke. No cuddling my sister.” Ashton says, pausing the game and swatting Luke’s hands off of me before handing him the controller and hugging me instead. Luke moves away and starts playing with Michael, rolling his eyes at Ashton. “Like you said Ashton, I’m not a weird child anymore, I can cuddle whoever I like.” Ashton wraps his arms around me protectively and sighs. “Well you’re still my baby sister so that means, no boys. Also, you wanted to cuddle me first.”
Michael had always been really protective of you, and when your mom suggested that you go on tour with him and 5SOS, he thought it was a horrible idea. It wasn’t that he didn’t want you with him, just.. you and a bunch of rowdy and hormonal teenage boys on a bus for 3 months.. not a good idea. No matter how much he tried to get you to stay home, you had already had your mind set on going with him. “Michael nothing is going to happen! Everything will be okay, plus, I have my big brother to protect me. Sure, you may be a hair dying, video game playing, man-child… but you’re MY hair dying, video game playing, man-child.” you joke punching his shoulder. “Fine, Y/N. I’ll let you come. But only because I know you will find some way to come anyways.” he smiles pulling you into a bone crushing hug.
That was 3 weeks ago and you couldn’t have been prepared for what happened in the weeks to come. You had known the boys as long as Michael had and you all got along really well, with some more than others. Ashton treated you like a baby sister, so did Luke , but Calum… that was something different.
“Hey Y/N, come look, it’s a cat playing Jenga.” Cal calls you, patting the couch next to him. It was just you and him on the bus right now, the other boys had gone to get Nandos with Niall while you were all in England together. Both you and Cal decided not to go, you had a strange relationship, sort of like best friends but it was clear you both wanted something more, you just weren’t sure how Michael would react. Walking over to Calum you sat down and layed your head on his shoulder and looked down at his laptop, watching the little kitten surprisingly not fail at Jenga. You laugh and look up at him, both of you locking eyes before your faces slowly come together, his lips meeting yours in a quick his. You two pull away and he gauges your reaction before moving in again, this time more forcefully.
The bus door opens, but you two don’t notice until you are forcefully pulled apart by someone a lot stronger than you, opening your eyes to see your brother Michael holding Calum by his shirt collar with a lot more strength than you knew he had. “CALUM WHAT THE HELL?! THAT’S MY LITTLE SISTER!” he yells, pushing Calum against a wall. Your eyes widen, never having seen this side of Michael before. “I can explain dude! Nothing happened, I just kissed her!” “Okay I got that, but my question is WHY? And THAT IS MY LITTLE SISTER!” Finding your strength, you run and put your hands between them trying to push your other off of Calum. “Michael don’t! I like him it’s okay! It was a mutual choice and we just kissed! Nothing bad happened!” You say to your brother, hugging him. “You like him? He likes you… Why.. what.. Well. I guess that’s okay then, but if you ever hurt her, I will whoop you.” Michael says walking away, back to Luke, Ashton, and Niall who were all watching.
“Y/N Michael has a crush on you!” Your twin brother chimes, while being chased around the house by Michael. Luke had gotten his phone and started reading his messages between him and Ashton about you. This discovery really wasn’t anything new, I mean… it was painfully obvious, but Luke found it all the more funny to make the poor red haired boy suffer. “Shut the fuck up Luke! Y/N he’s lying!” they say, running endlessly around the couch before Luke finally leaps over it with his ballerina legs. Luke tosses you the phone, which you thank God for catching, because iPhones+ hardwood floors don’t make the best of friends.
“Aww so you don’t like me Clifford?” Michael sputters, out of breath from all the running and walks over to you, as you stuff the phone in your bra. “You can’t prove anything, and you think I won’t reach in there and get it?” He says, turning almost as red as his hair at the thought. “No you won’t, cause I would kick your ass.” Luke says, playfully tackling Michael to the ground. “Run to the bathroom, Lock the door and read them Y/N! Then we can both make fun of him Y/N!” Luke knew you had the biggest crush on Michael, and this was the best way for him to tell you you thought. You loved your brother and he knew how much you liked abnormal things, like a confession of love being thrust upon you through texts shown to you by your brother. You lock the door, and slide down on the floor in front of it, hearing someone struggle to get up the stairs, no doubt Luke making Michael drag him up. You unlock his phone and smile as you see the messages. She is so fucking beautiful / I just want to date her / why am I so fucking shy / ash help me ask her out / do you really think she’d go for someone like me? / I also think it would be awkward to date her cause she’s Luke’s twin / would making out with her be like making out with Luke? / Oh god why did I think of that ;-; /