Okay, I am pretty excited about this challenge, you guys!

First I must explain what and who inspired it. The Glee promo was released recently with footage of their upcoming “Born This Way” episode, in which we see the kids in shirts that exclaim the things that are a part of them, yet people use it against them.

  • Brittany: “I’m With Stoopid”
  • Quinn: “Lucy Caboose”
  • Mike: “Can’t Sing”
  • Tina: “Brown Eyes”
  • Sam: “Trouty Mouth”
  • Kurt: “Likes Boys”
  • Mercedes: "No Weave”
  • Artie: “Four Eyes”

Then I saw this post. How about you? It got the wheels turning. It was fluffynorbert that started it all.

Then purpleheadphones said

This icon thing is honestly a really good idea. I actually just made a post about how it needs to transcend fandoms and not just be limited to us Gleeks. I think that others need to see that when they can display what others look down on them for and not fear getting picked on about it gives them more confidence and something to incite courage and the ability to be proud of themselves for who they are and everything about them, good or not.


What have people tried to use against you? What’s something you once wanted to hide? What’s something you once wished you could change?

Click here to see a collage of some of the icons that have been made so far.

Thank you to fluffynorbert, fiftyrantsperday, and purpleheadphones for all their inspiration.



Re: Stop Hating Your Body Challenge 4

I’ve mentioned this many times before, but here it is again: my thunder thighs. I have big thighs. In the past, I’ve always wanted small, skinny thighs, and yes, I’ve longed for that “gap” between them. 

I desperately wanted a body like this:

But you know what? I just don’t have that body type. Some people are naturally tall and skinny. Others, like me, are short and stumpy. I’ll never to be able to have naturally thin thighs. I’m not going to starve myself to get them, either. 

Right now, I am perfectly happy with my body because I know I’m healthy. I’m strong, and I’m getting stronger with each passing week. I’m on a journey to fitness on which I am training my body to be more athletic. I’m not doing it to “look prettier” or so boys will give me attention. I’m not doing it so I can “be better” than others. I’m doing it for me, for myself, because being strong and being fit is what makes me happy.

I am really glad to be able to say, “I love my legs.” They’re big, they’re fat, they’re muscular. They’re mine, and god damn if I don’t think they are beautiful. 

“BIG BOOBS” would be my “Born This Way” T-Shirt.

The one thing that people tease me the most for at school is my double D’s.

I used to wear baggy shirts and jackets to cover them because all the girls would make fun of me, and all the boys would stare at them and be inappropriate. I was so ashamed. I just wanted to get rid of them.

Despite the back pain, the teasing, the fact that I have to wear an XL because of them, and not to mention the stretch marks, I’ve come to love my big boobs. They’re beautiful.


“Pollyanna” would be my “born this way” shirt.

When I was young, I was called ugly and stupid because of the insecurities of others, however, these things were untrue.

But then when I wouldn’t let it all get to me, I became “too positive”, “abrasively optimistic and cheerful”. It would annoy the shit out of my peers. I believe it to be because certain people can’t stand to see you happy, be it because of jealousy, disbelief, or they feel that if they are miserable, everyone else should be as well. 

To this day, I’ll get stuff like that and I don’t really deny it, I AM pretty damn positive, even if I get mad, I am usually pretty quick to let it go because I don’t like the burden of anger on my shoulders. Life’s too short to waste it lingering in anger or sadness longer than you should. You can ALWAYS find SOME reason to smile. Sometimes we have to fight to find what that reason is, but it’s there.

Even if I annoy people for the rest of my life, this is who I am, and I’m not hurting anyone, I will not be made to feel like a loser just because people don’t understand.

So you’re right. I’m fucking Pollyanna =)

I have come to terms with me. I know what I am, that’s final.

The word fat has ALWAYS been used against me as an insult, and the truth is that it only worked when I was in middle school. Once I transitioned from 8th grade to my first year of high school fat no longer had an effect on me.

I learned that people can not hurt me with that one word, if you want to get under my skin, you have to search under my skin. I AM FAT, and I fucking love my fatty body. NO ONE WILL EVER CHANGE THIS FACT!

some ignorant person: “oh, Kristina, you’re soooo fat!”

me: “I know, thanks for being captain obvious”

and I usually smile afterward.


*edit: I still don’t consider myself “hot.” That’s just a weird thought for me to process.

When I was little, I had this weird problem in which I had to make sure everything was clean and organized. I never thought anything of it until I got older. I became scared to touch things in public. I couldn’t open doors and I couldn’t sit at a table without wiping it down. About 2 years ago, I was diagnosed with OCD. I have had it all my life, but never thought anything was wrong, until I got anxiety attacks because of it. I started to see how obvious it was.
Being a college student, and even when I was in high school, people judge you like you chose to have the problem or you are just faking it. I wish I was at times, because I hate having it. I feel alone all the time because I know that no one could really understand unless they have it. It got to the point that I would pretend nothing was wrong and put up a huge front so no one had any idea. But the comments you hear people say about OCD hurt me on the inside, even though I would never show it.
Last night, I was at a tattoo shop, and there was this boy getting tattooed. He made a comment saying that Anxiety Disorders happen by choice. We chose to have the problem. It felt like a stab in my stomach. I have heard those comments so many times before, but seeing someone say it without a care in the world made it hurt even more. I cried last night. I had to. That was the only thing I could do. It was the only thing on my mind.
I know I am different. I am slowly accepting it. I am slowly learning to look in the mirror and realize that what I have is part of me. I’m sure in time I can be able to look at people and say that I have OCD without feeling ashamed. I have a mental disorder. Doesn’t make me different. It makes me unique.

Hey, I’m doing this for the SHYB challenge, I think it’s a nice way for people to shake off their insecurities. 

These words up there are the names people used to/are giving me. These are the words that upset me the most. They call me a freak and I try hard to fit in with the others. Even after I lost a lot of weight, I still feel like a balloon. Because people told me so. I’m afraid to even say I like curvy girls, because I would be instantly put down for it.

I also like to sing and dance during free periods in school. And I’m psycho for it? I didn’t realize I should cry.

You know what? I admit that I’m not on the level of self-acceptance that I want to be at, but I’m getting there. And I would like to ask people…what do you want from me? I’m human, I’m not perfect, I have flaws, I’m insecure about them and I’m working them out. But I’m not here to please you. I can be whatever I want to be.

I’m sick of you trying to suffocate me with your standards. I consider myself as out of the box and I still don’t know if I like it or not. But it’s me. So let me breathe.

My submission for the ‘Born This Way’ challenge:

People have called me 'ruthless’ my entire life.  There are other names: bitch, cold-hearted cunt, heartless…the add, multiply, and never divide.  People always misinterpret my sarcasm for being a complete asshole.  People see my actions as cut-throat.

You want to know the truth?  I am ruthless, but not in the negative sense.  I don’t play games and I am completely honest with every person I come in contact with.  I work my ass off to have everything that I own.  I am a woman living in a competitive world striving to work in a competitive field where people don’t think I will become a damn thing.  Sometimes, I don’t even think my own parents support me.

I work myself to the bone and I don’t need people throwing out names at me just because they don’t take the time to understand me for me.

Don’t confuse ruthlessness for being passionate about something.


My Born This Way icon.

I’m never going to be a size 6. I’ll be fucking lucky if I’m ever a consistent size 10. My thighs and hips are out of proportion to the rest of me (I have a relatively small waist and average boobs), and no matter how much weight I lose, that’s all I’ll see.

But you know something?

I’m well on my way to not giving a fuck.

As for the second part - it’s kinda self-explanatory, isn’t it? I actually don’t mind dyke when it’s not being used as an insult (and it nearly always is). Better than lesbian (takes too long to say), gay (another insult) and homosexual (don’t get me fucking started. If anyone ever calls me homosexual I will cut them. I hate that word.) I prefer Sapphic to all of those, but there you go. Plus, there’s that stereotype of dumpy, short-haired butch dykes, isn’t there? Guess I kinda fit that. Oh well.

For my BTW icon I chose the phrase “Covertly Fierce” to describe who I am. Ever since I was little I was taught to be incredibly quiet and docile. I was treated like I was unable to do anything by myself, when in reality I was the one keeping my whole family emotionally sane. As a kid of first generation immigrants I handled tax forms, wrote doctors notes and called administrators on the phone and I was always a shoulder a cry on for my parents and siblings. For the longest time I denied myself the emotional support I so willingly gave out to others and on the surface I seemed perfectly fine. I claim the name Covertly Fierce to show that despite the emotional turmoil I had to deal with by myself, I’m still standing here and although I may look like much I am capable of much more then you think.

Triggers: Profanity, Mental Health Issues, Police Involvement

Born This Way T-Shirt Design

External image

My name Is Liz. I actually just had a submission published, and the love I got from people was wonderful. My Born This Way t-shirt represents the view that many people in my small-minded small town have of me. I am known as the town psycho. I was removed from my school (I technically still go there, but they send me to a therapeutic school), I’ve been publicly removed from places by the police, I’ve had violent seizures where people can see me, and I’ve always had panic and anxiety attacks in and out of my school. People who have never even met me know my name because I’m that “crazy girl you shouldn’t let baby sit your kids”. 

Some people are surprised to find out how “normal” I am when they meet me. My best guy friend’s girlfriend (who I am no really great friends with) once told me that when she first met me she thought I was going to be a psycho, because these three girls had spent an entire summer telling her what a “crazy bitch” I was. 

So I have decided that what would go on my t-shirt is just that, “crazy bitch”. 

Baby, I was born this way.


I’m a know-it-all. You can compare me to Hermione Granger, because that’s what people like to do. I’m okay with that. I love her. She inspires me.

I like learning and reading. I love participating in class because that’s how I learn. I like teaching other people and don’t like seeing people say wrong things in front of me. So yes, I correct people, and yes, I talk a lot in class, but that’s because I’m smart. If you have a problem with me being smart, I don’t care. 

My brains make me beautiful.

I’ve got thick, wavy, frizzy hair. I’ve been mostly ok with being fat (that was what it was) but I used to feel like my hair was what was keeping people from finding me attractive. I sort of came to terms with it and figured out how to deal with it while still staying low-maintenance (AKA being lazy xD) 

After I came to terms with it, I’ve enjoyed dying my hair and playing around with it. The first time I did it, though, this guy (who was totally nice when he wasn’t around his stuck up friends) made some really catty remarks about it… which hurt a little. Other than that, though, everyone’s been really positive. 

I love my hair now.  It’s something I’ve learned to love as my own, even to the point of writing an introductory speech for my public speaking class that related my overall personality traits with various aspects of my hair. It’s so different from most everyone’s I know, even when I DON’T have awesome bright red in it that I pretty much HAVE to embrace it as my hallmark.

<3, Lil Eris

(If you want to see my hair: Thanks for all the positive feedback!)

Growing up I always singled myself out from the crowd, I did that before anyone else could push me away. I chose to be alone, to sit alone. But at the point where I didn’t want to be alone anymore, no one wanted to be my friend because I had made myself out to be the weird loner kid. I tried so hard to get people to like me after that, but now I just don’t care.

There is nothing wrong with being alone. Being alone taught me that I have to accept myself. There is nothing wrong with choosing to sit at home, rather than going out and being some wild, crazy beast.

I am who I am. And I am that weird, bitchy girl. I am a loner. I am mean, but I am loving. And protective. And I will stand by everyone I love.

My BTW shirt would be “Terrible Luck”. For as long as I could remember, my family and friends have always joked about how terrible of luck I have always had. 

Life has handed me nothing supremely awesome. Any time I deserve something, I never get it. I am extremely talented and professional, but can never land a good job. I’ve been single for a very long time, and no one seems to be interested in me.

But you know what? Yeah, sure, I may have terrible luck. But there are some things I am lucky about. The fact that I’m alive. The fact that I am a strong and independent woman. I’m lucky for the way I view the world, and the sense of humor I have gained from it. I am lucky to have such great writing talent. And I am lucky to feel as beautiful as I do, even after years of being degraded.


(submission to the SHYB Born this Way challenge :) )

Since high school, I’ve been called a drama queen by almost all of my friends, and most of my family, including my now husband. I was in theater in high school, and I hopefully will end up teaching it in the future. It used to not get to me so much, because, well, I was a drama queen… I was in the theater more than I was at my own house. But people didn’t use the theatrical connotation, they used the over-dramatic gossiper, side of it when describing me. And for awhile I smiled because it gave me a sense of belonging… I just wanted to fit in like everyone else… I wanted to be apart of something. Then it started getting a little annoying. I seemed to not be able to say or do anything without having the “nickname” tacked on to me. Then it started getting insulting. Now it’s like when ever anyone even hints at me being one, I throw up a wall to defend myself and don’t back down until they do. I hate that term more than anything in the world. It’s not who I am… it’s a high school label that got glued to my forehead when I was sleeping… and it’s about time people start seeing the other ones.


-Waves- I - was never really able to pluck up the courage for this kind of thing. I was always the person who looked out for others, being optimistic for them; I always told the people I loved how wonderful and amazing they are. But I never managed to convince myself of that for, well, myself. Kinda hypocritical, isn’t it?

I.. I was always a sensitive little girl. I was hurt very easily because I used to hate myself and my body. Not to mention, all the crap everyone deals with in life; growing up, getting scarred. It was hard, yes - we all know this. Society always brought me down. Brought you down, too. But eventually, I came to accept who I am.

You know why?

Because society is wrong. Yes - I am not ‘skinny enough’, and I’m not 'drop-dead gorgeous.’ But I don’t need to be. Because you and I, we’re all beautiful and loved just the way we are. We may be criticized, and we may become insecure - but remember that people love you for you!

It’s okay to be dissatisfied every once in a while. But never let it dominate your life and who you are. Because who you are is the best you’ll ever be; no one else can truly take you away from yourself. No one can ever tell you that you’re not perfect, 'cause they aren’t either.

What you are, though, is unique. And being unique is as amazing and wondrous as it will ever get. Never bring yourself down to the point of self-hatred or self-harm. You always deserve better. You’re never not-beautiful.

If you are told that you need to lose weight, or that you need to fix this or that about yourself - make sure you do it only if it threatens your health. But don’t go too far; just far enough.

Never spiral down the path that tells you that you’re not worthy - because you are worthy. No one can tell you otherwise. You’re all gifts and blessings and loved ones - and honestly, you are never alone and never horrendous.