Fat Girl,

Haikus With Dani: Existential Edition

May 16, 2016 1 Comment

I’ve been rather existential lately. I mean, I usually am anyway. But back to the “it’s hard to explain in anything except shards of thought” kind of existential. So. The contents of these haikus will likely turn into blog posts at some point. But for now, I serve them to you as the fragments they are.

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The Stories We Tell: Purity Culture and Shame.

April 1, 2016 7 Comments

I had a very eye-opening conversation with my mom recently.

We were talking about my marriage to my ex, and she asked me if her hunch was correct that I’d have married him anyway if my parents hadn’t given us permission. (You see, in our iteration of purity culture, even as a 22-year-old adult, I needed my parents’ permission to marry.)

I thought a moment and answered honestly: yes, I would have still married him. Then I clarified, “I honestly thought I had to.”

“You didn’t get that from us!” Mom responded in astonished confusion. “You don’t have to marry someone just because you slept with them.

Let me state up front: that’s an entirely true statement. I agree with it 100%.

And yet it was my turn to be shocked.

Because that statement flew in the face the entire narrative of my first 20+ years of life..

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Haikus With Dani: Breakup Edition

March 3, 2016 3 Comments

In so many ways, the dissolving of my marriage has been unspeakably hard. I literally don’t have truly appropriate words for this experience, only deep chasms within my being that alternately flow with rage and sorrow, then ebb with hollow misery. So I decided to put the fragmented shards of grief into haikus.

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The Stories We Tell: Purity Culture Edition

February 18, 2016 2 Comments

Purity culture prepared me for a world that doesn’t exist. The world that does exist is both so much better and so much worse than I was led to believe.

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Microaggressions and fat-shaming.

September 10, 2015 17 Comments

It is no one’s goddamn business what I eat, except for me and my doctors. I owe no one explanations for my food choices. I owe no one an explanation for my body. I’m not obligated to share my financial availability for Good Food, nor my health surrounding ability to lose weight or process nutrients in a way ignorant people think I should. My body does not require an explanation or an apology, and it shouldn’t elicit the spouting of erroneous information or meaningless advice from friends, family, or strangers alike — and it most certainly shouldn’t inspire complete strangers to pressure me into eating things I don’t want to eat and adjusting my restaurant orders to something they’re more comfortable with a Fatty McFatperson like me eating.

If I ate nothing but fruits and vegetables, I would not be worthy of more respect.

If I ate nothing but fried foods and sweet, I would not be worthy of less respect.

If I incorporated regular intensive workouts into my daily life, I would not be a more worthy human.

If I did nothing but sit on the couch and eat Cheetos all day long, I would not be a less worthy human.

And I hate so much that, despite working constantly on body positivity and self-care for the past 4 years, all it takes is one terrible person to make me second-guess the validity of my existence and self-worth as a fat femme person.

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You matter.

September 7, 2015 1 Comment
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On treating depression.

August 3, 2015 8 Comments
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White Supremacy in America and me.

June 28, 2015 5 Comments

It’s easy for us, the white children of the Colorblind Generation, to continue to focus on individual prejudice while denying systemic oppression. It’s how we were raised. It’s how we were taught. Surely, we are innocent. Surely, we don’t benefit from white supremacy. Surely, we don’t perpetuate it.

And yet, white supremacy is alive and thriving in America today. It exists as a system, perhaps even more than as a skin color. It rewards not only those who work to support the system, but also those who do nothing to impede it. Those who sit silently in the face of oppression. Those who step up and affirm the system that oppresses them. Those who don’t even think to question the stories we’re told about whiteness, blackness, and our place in the world.

White supremacy creates an environment where generation after generation are uninformed about the violence it takes to maintain their safety, then rewards them for never questioning what they’re told.

White supremacy created the environment that allowed me to reach the age of 21 without ever questioning it. For decades, I did nothing to try to stop it.

I benefit from white supremacy.

And if you’re a white American — so do you.

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Of masculinity & abusive breeding grounds.

June 8, 2015 0 Comments

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A tale of male entitlement.

May 29, 2015 6 Comments

This complete stranger, in the span of 90 seconds, demonstrated that he felt entitled to a) my attention, b) my possessions, c) my goodwill, and d) my body. 

My clear reticence for social interaction didn’t matter. My body language regarding my pencil didn’t matter (considering he literally pried it from my hand). My disinterest in stroking his ego was the highest affront, to which he responded by touching me without my consent (and prolonging his touch when I physically pulled away).

People. Don’t do this. It’s super not okay. Respect personal bubbles. Don’t force people to interact with you when they’re giving every indication that they’d really rather not. And don’t take their stuff while they’re using it — that’s kindergarten level stuff. AND DON’T TOUCH ANYONE WITHOUT THEIR CONSENT FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD IN THIS WORLD.

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