I drive these brothers crazy I do it on the daily They treat me really nicely They buy me all these ice Dolce and Gabbana Fendi and Madonna Caring they be sharin’ All their money got me wearing fly Whether I ain’t askin’ They say they love mah ass in Seven jeans True religion I say no But they keep givin’ So I keep on takin’ And no I ain’t takin’ We can keep on datin’ Now keep on demonstratin'My love my love my love my love You love my lady lumps My hump my hump my hump My humps they got you
i like to talk to my pets when im feeding them [but i guess everyone does] and I’ll commonly refer to my toads as ‘my lumps’ even to their faces, well another word in my vocabulary I tend to use a lot is ‘lovely’ just because its a nice word so I guess it was going to happen eventually that today, when I went to feed PJ and Moontoad on this brisk december afternoon, i accidentally and unironically turned to them and asked “how’s my lovely lady lumps??” and im still kind of reeling from it to be honest
It’s getting to the point where I can’t hide it anymore. People who haven’t seen me in a while run into me in public & I see them notice. I feel obligated to say something but I’m not sure what. Many have made some harsh judgements & said some venomous things about my body, which is weird, seeing that my body has zero effect on their lives. I guess it’s finally time to address the rumors. The answer is YES: I have gone through some BIG changes recently! NO, I am not pregnant! I’M JUST #BLESSED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I’ve been skinny my whole life, but I’ve also always hated myself. Of course, I never realized how skinny I was until I gained so much weight that I couldn’t even fit into the biggest pair of sweatpants I own. SWEATPANTS! Who knew sweatpants could ever be tight?! Like, usually this cliche involves the image of a sad lady trying desperately to wiggle into a sexy dress that’s too small, but no dudes, my Eureka moment was contorting my lady lumps into a big ass frumpy pair of sweatpants that fit me like a pair of children’s tights so furiously that I fell backwards, nude, hitting my head on my kitchen table, which sent several pieces of pizza flying onto the floor, where I cried like a massive infant. It was the most Cathy the Comic shit that ever happened in real life, in the history of ever. The past 2 years have been absolutely brutal as life’s bony fingers slowly tightened around my throat, so I did what I could to comfort myself while still trying to stay alive. I don’t hate myself anymore. I don’t recognize myself when I look in the mirror, but I DO finally recognize that my obsessive thoughts, like, “if I don’t lose this weight, no one is going to love me”, or, “if I don’t fit back into these pants, I’m literally going to be alone forever” are extremely disordered & poisonous & not even true.
So guess what, guys? I gained 20 pounds! Actually, probably more than that. But here’s the thing: I’m totally cool with it. Maybe my body will stay this way, maybe it won’t. It’s seriously just whatever, & I can’t think of a bigger #blessing in my life! Finally! Finally, the way my body looks is just whatever! It can’t control my happiness anymore! My body, & what others think of it, no longer dictate my self worth! In lieu of flowers or marriage proposals, please just think about how cool your body is. You can even think about how cool MY body is, just don’t expect me to give a shit. I’M TOO BUSY CELEBRATING THIS #BLESSING!!!!!!!!!!!!
(These photos were taken by Scott Doyle, Houston’s premier weight gain photographer. Contact him at firstname.lastname@example.org)