Fat is just a word

I guess I have more work to do.

My six-year-old son just walked up behind me writing this post and when he saw these photos he said, “Oh my gosh! That woman is so fat, her fat is coming out of her shirt.”

“That’s not nice to say, that someone is so fat,” I said.

And he looked at me quizzically.

I’m sitting here wondering what is correct.

I don’t want my children to just be politically correct and feel like they can’t speak of what they see and use words that they know.

Fat isn’t inherently a bad word.

And that seems to be partly what Brazilian photographer Miarana Godoy is saying with her photos of large-sized women in lingerie.

Women reclaim the word 'fat' in Empowering Me body positive photo series details Godoy’s project: “The photographer went on to explain that she wanted to highlight that being fat doesn't mean a person is unhealthy, and pointed out that thinner people also experience health problems.”

You can't tell if someone is healthy by looking at them. Regardless of whether they are fat or thin. You cannot tell just by looking at them.

Photos can tell any story. The real story lies behind the images. In our lives. And whether we are healthy or not should not become some new standard to self-acceptance either.

We don't want to lose one way to judge ourselves simply to be replaced by another.

We need to love ourselves no matter what. Fat. Skinny. Healthy. Unhealthy.

And while I know my son would never say something to someone’s face about being “fat,” I want to make sure he knows that a person’s size has nothing to do with his or her worth.

Not Over Until the Fat Lady Sings (Or Strips)

An excerpt from Stephanie Howell’s essay Stripper Role Sparks Artist's Body Acceptance on Women’s enews is going to be my inspiration for the New Year.

Howell explains how when she was cast as a fat stripper in Gypsy that she couldn’t “escape” anyone or her body. There were mirrors, actors, audiences and she was forced to deal with her “fat” body.

“It was through performing Mazeppa and embracing fearlessness that I was able to construct a new understanding of "fat" and the "performance of fatness" in my live performances. I made the conscious decision that I didn't have to hate my body anymore. I didn't have to hide my body anymore--I didn't have to be ashamed of my fatness. That's not to say that newfound acceptance of my fat body happened overnight--it didn't. This was a slow, slow process. A slow process that began with me being grateful that I had a working and functional body--I hadn't damaged my physical body through my own abuse.”

I think when we focus on body acceptance we want it to be an instant fix, but as Howell points out, a change like this takes time to really take hold.

“Through this appreciation, I was able to see my body in a different light. Fat didn't mean "bad," "unworthy," "unlovable" or "undesirable." I began wearing clothing that fit close to my body. I wanted people to see my fatness. I would no longer be invisible. This appreciation of my fatness sparked my professional work.”

This sense of acceptance is what I strive for everyday. An acceptance of my less than perfect parts.

I wonder if stripping, in its literal sense, is a healthy act for women in this context. If we could all be forced to play the role of a stripper and end up having such a positive experience afterwards, it would be totally worth it.