my thighs are fat and awkward

female kpop idols who have blessed us with thick thighs in a society where thigh gaps and thin body types in general are idealized:

  • bestie’s dahye
  • mamamoo’s hwasa
  • red velvet’s joy
  • snsd’s yuri
  • sistar’s hyorin/soyou
  • wjsn’s cheng xiao
  • aoa’s seolhyun
  • brave girls’ hyeran/yuna
  • twice’s dahyun/jihyo
  • secret’s hyosung/hana
  • ailee
  • 15&’s jimin
  • oh my girl’s arin

feel free to add more if you please & continue to support these girls!!!

People think fencing makes me into like this cool suave epic sword fighter but no. Me fencing is more like:

• ow ow my hair is caught in my mask help
• I smell like rust. Or blood.
• I don’t think I can smell sweat anymore
• no I didn’t take a shower I fenced
• dead knees
• more dead knees
• black toenails
• my nose itches but I can’t take off my mask
• is my butt really that unattractive or is it just the knickers
• that person smells nice. Why do they smell nice. We don’t smell nice. They’re weird.
• my majestic weapon isn’t even sharp
• my majestic weapon is bent at a 90 degree angle
• my majestic weapon is broken
• I am the human baked potato
• I only have one pocket why isn’t the other cheek special
• hair stays in place because of sweat
• bruises everywhere
• this lame didnt used to be green
• *crushing on squad mate* some real lannister shit going on here
• why does their butt get to look good
• I didn’t think that would be a stupid move but eff me I was wrong
• chin acne from masks
• my glove is wet ew
• oh someone’s bleeding again
• ooooo nerd drama time
• one thigh is bigger than the other wut
• I did not think counting was so difficult buddy
• no money
• oMg fOoD
• *takes mask off too fast* can someone see where my glasses flew off to this time
• please be the red light
• fuck no I meant green
• fuck it’s red
• yells that make cavemen uncomfortable
• sweat everywhere
• these are the most expensive shoes I own and they are also the smelliest
• obnoxious socks
• does this lame make me look fat
• beginner’s luck or experienced fencer’s stupidity
• death grip handshakes
• dead fish handshakes
• awkward leftie handshake
• that wasn’t even a handshake
• feeling like the Pillsbury dough boy right now
• “engarde.” I have suddenly forgotten everything about fencing.
• is that even legal
• there goes my shoe
• don’t look at the box don’t look at the box
• shit I looked
• Thor is jealous of my thunder thighs
• this jacket is warm and comforting but also wet and disgusting
• I hate fencing
• I love fencing
• it’s okay

Please, feel free to add to this list of fencing awkwardness

alright y'all time to tell you why this comic is literally the best and my fav thing rn, and deserves a huge fanbase. ok so :

• tons of woc kickin’ butt

• relatable characters with real flaws! and fleshed out personalities!

• a really good twist on zombie apoc. stories, usually very lighthearted and fun

• gay characters! canonically homosexual characters! homosexual woc!

• canon trans character! (unless i misinterpreted something)

• body diversity. we got ana sofia killing us w her curves and chub, while lakka is delicate and cute, we got elise w her killer thighs and strong build, tol and narrow min su etc.

• subverts stereotypes really nicely! fat girl gets asked out to prom while skinny white girl is awkward

• everyone is attractive and loved no matter what?

it’s a blessing add more if y'all need to. read with discretion if you’re triggered by gore, violence or blood.

I can feel every bit of my fat and it’s screaming at me and I’m in the post awkward stiff position because I can’t touch any part of myself without feeling it all and fuckfuckiate so much this weekend and my stomach hangs and my thighs touch and my cheeks dear god they have nail marks from me scratching them in a breakdown because they’re so FAT and I just want to throw up until my throatbreaks dear god I’m so FAT AND MINDLESS AND WEAK I CANT GO A MINUTE WITHOUT THINKING OR EATING FOOD 🐷🐽

I saw the uniform from @sweetelite-staff and had to draw it for myself (taking a break from the sprites and indulging myself a little).

She’s a performing art student (dance), really shy and self conscious outside stage because of her size and height (the uniform absolutly makes her totally awkward).
Since she has fat thighs, her stockings always roll on themselves and thus, she wears garterbelt to maintain them on place (she was scold for having them on down to her ankle). Of course, the garterbelt isn’t the most discret and makes her really self conscious (but adhesive or glue didn’t work…).

(I drew the skirt a little bit too (much) short, but I wanted to show the garterbelts >///<)

my name is natalie and i’m fat. i’ve been more fat than i am now. i have been less fat. i’ve been the same fat. i’m fat from the side, fat from the front, fat from the back…you get the point.

fat girls have been lied to over and over in many ways our whole fat existences - told that we are restricted to certain styles/trends of clothing because anything too tight/short/revealing isn’t ‘flattering’. told that we should be glad to be hit on/cat-called by creepy men because hey, at least it’s something, right?! told that the world isn’t open to us and that we can’t be incredible creatures because we’re fat. told that we’re ugly/undesirable/weak/stupid/disgusting. told that we don’t deserve to be loved…or even to live.

it’s not true. none of it is true.

people ask me often - “i hate myself. how do you do it?” it’s simple.

one day, i decided that i was worth greatness, whatever size i was or wasn’t.

i wish i could go back to awkward, shy 13 year old me, look her dead in the eye and tell her that she. is. perfect. tell her that she can go anywhere, be anyone, wear anything and that she will always be important and will never, ever, ever be merely ‘the fat girl’.

i won’t drown in sweat in texas summers to cover my fat arms in sweaters or shield my thunder thighs from the spring breeze just because you don’t want to see them. my fat arms and thunder thighs have always been here for me when much of the world wasn’t. i won’t be beat down by people who do not care if i cry myself to sleep at night.

my mom has always told me that i am my biggest fan and ya know what?

she’s right.

you’re allowed to feel good. don’t let anyone take that away from you.

This Is How Fat I Am

This is how fat I am. This is the fat that takes over the features of my small face. This is the fat that crept up in the months after my beloved baby brother died unexpectedly a little more than a month after his 26th birthday, and the day before my 32nd. This is the fat I gained when I went back to work and began consuming two full lunches every day to keep my exhausted and grief-stricken self going. This is the fat I gained when we moved back to our home province and my parents were in denial and my mother in law had no sympathy for me. This is the fat I gained when I ate and drank for solace and protection during the awful 13 months my husband and I lived with my parents and we all fought and railed and drank and neither I nor spouse could find work. This is the pizza I ate when my cat was dying. You can see it where it sits on my body. This is the fat I gained when the house we rented didn’t have proper heating and it was 13 degrees Celsius for two weeks inside the house and we had to break the lease and move into a new house that cost $600/month more than the previous place. This is the fat I gained when my major work project grew in scope and shrank in delivery time till I was working 50-60 hours per week. This is the fat I gained when edits on my book were due in the midst of my work chaos. This is the fat I carry when I contemplate all that has changed in my life since February 2012, and when I wait for the next disaster to hit. This is the fat I carry when I remind myself that despite my sob stories I still occupy a place of incredible privilege. This is the fat I carry when I count my calories. This is the fat I carry when I don’t count my calories. This is how fat I am when I exercise. This is how fat I am when I don’t exercise. This is how fat I am when my husband tells me I’m beautiful and I want to believe him but don’t/can’t/won’t. 

My body reminds you of the smiling Buddha. My sloped shoulders are his ears, my tiny boobs are his eyes, the shadow beneath my protruding belly is his smiling mouth, my hips and thighs are his extra chins. When you look at my body you don’t see a warrior; you don’t see what I have endured and survived. You don’t see strength and pride. My body looks to you like failure and complacency. You see a fat woman who looks awkward in her clothes because she likes pretty things but can’t figure out what to do with this newish awkward puffed marshmallow body. This body. This is my body, my vessel. This is how fat I am. This is me. Here I am.


Gerard Way Taught Me To Accept Myself For Who I Am

My nose is not too big, my lips aren’t too small, and my thighs aren’t fat. I’m not too awkward, too weird, too crazy, or a failure. I’m starting to own whatever music, movies, colors, and styles I want to without worrying what everyone else thinks. I’ll say what I want, wear what I want, believe what I want, and be who I want.

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