Fat Girl,

Halloween as a deconverted former fundamentalist.

October 13, 2013

Michael and I went into a Halloween shop today.

I’d never been in a Halloween shop before, and it was an eye-​opening experience.

I was really surprised to see so many little kids everywhere — and not a single one of them crying or scared. These kids…they clearly could separate fiction from reality in a way that I couldn’t at their age. In a way that I couldn’t as a young adult. I envied this ability they had that I’m still working on developing. I envied their lack of fear, their pure delight, their reasoning skills.

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Of privilege in progressive circles.

September 16, 2013

Just because I’m a good person, just because I’m progressive, just because I’m involved in working towards a better world, doesn’t mean that I am unaffected by privilege, exempt from critique, incapable of bearing responsibility for abusive behavior…or even incapable of being an asshat.

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Because I can’t not: writing in community.

September 3, 2013

Since publishing the admission of my deconversion from Christianity, I’ve been questioning myself an awful lot (to put it quite delicately).

Maybe I shouldn’t have written it. Maybe I should have kept playing along so I didn’t hurt anyone. Maybe I should have kept it all to myself for the rest of my life. Maybe the timing was bad. Maybe I should have consulted with anyone who would have been upset about it before publishing. Maybe, maybe, maybe…

I keep coming back to the same answers. I had to write it. Lying to everyone for the rest of my life would have been more damaging to us all than telling the truth has been. There was never going to be a “right time” for it. Consulting with those who would be hurt by it would have only served to delay then intensify the pain, because their displeasure wouldn’t have kept me from publishing.

That leads me to two questions that apply both to that post in particular but also to my entire blog:

  1. Why did I write it, and why do I write in general?
  2. Why did I write it publicly, and why do I write in public?
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I am sad; or, how my language sometimes says more or less than I feel.

August 22, 2013

When I say I am sad, it’s because I don’t really have words to explain what’s happening. It’s because it’s easier for me to say, “I am sad” than it is to explain what I actually mean.

And, if I’m honest, it’s because saying “I am sad” is easier than owning to myself how bad things can get. Have gotten. Will get again. It’s my way of downplaying something that is all-​encompassing and overwhelming and frightening and stifling and maddening and exhausting and devastating.

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Turning on a dime: false equivalence in purity culture.

August 13, 2013

That’s one of the problems of purity culture. It seeks to shelter, to save, to protect. But in doing so, unwittingly or not, it becomes benevolently sexist, perpetuating the very evil it claims to protect its adherents from, using gentler words and subtler manipulation towards the same end.

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Random thoughts and fears in the wake of public deconversion.

July 31, 2013

Maybe I should have just kept pretending to be a Christian. You know, for the rest of my life. Because lying forever can’t possibly go wrong.

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Strange and unprepared.

July 26, 2013

This is a conversation I don’t know how to have.

How do I write about no longer identifying as a Christian in a way that won’t turn my entire world upside down?

I guess I’m doing it something like this. But I’m not holding onto hope for keeping my world aright.

The language of Christianity is still my mother tongue. The culture of Christianity is still my hometown. I don’t know anything else.

This is a strange place for me to be.

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Silence.

April 11, 2013

There is so much I want to say. So much I want to talk about, share, unload from the heaviness of my heart and dredge up from the murkiness of the swirling waters of thoughts in my head. There are people who have contacted me that I want to respond to.

But all I can really muster is silence.

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In which I am hesitant to call it abuse.

March 18, 2013

This week is Spiritual Abuse Awareness Week, a synchroblog hosted by Hännah, Joy, and Shaney (along with Rachel and Elora). Today we’re all linking up with Hännah, and I’m so thrilled that this is happening. And yet…

And yet.

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Of church, feminism, and safety.

February 28, 2013

I am a feminist. And I am a Christian. I think these are completely compatible systems that ought to go hand in hand.

But I do not — cannot — will not — go to church.

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Just hear me out.

January 23, 2020

Remember the days where I wrote on here somewhat regularly? I mean, they were the early-​​to-​​mid 2010’s, and blogging has certainly gone by the wayside as of the past…like…what is it, 3 – 4 years now? I didn’t stop writing because the trend began dying down, though. I stopped writing because of TRAUMA *throws glitter bomb* While I do still post on…

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Abortion is a Human Right

June 22, 2019
Text reads, “Abortion is a human right,” from Fat Girl Media. The main text is lettered in a friendly but straight-forward cursive. It’s wrapped in a simple rendering of a stethoscope, with “Fat Girl Media” being within the round applicator of the scope. The cord forms an infinity symbol. The background of the image is white, and the design is in a 2-tone teal.

When a government works so hard to remove the agency of its people in deciding whether and when to procreate (and how to treat other medical conditions!), that government is immoral. It’s a violation of human rights — quite literally, according to the United Nations. And it’s certainly not a land of the free.

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Eshet Chayil: In Memory of Rachel Held Evans

May 22, 2019
The Hebrew term “eshet chayil” is written in calligraphy with thick down-strokes and hairline up-strokes. “Eshet chayil” means “woman of valor.”

Rachel Held Evans changed the world. She challenged me on how to hold accountable people I looked up to when they made decisions I thought were wrong. And she did make my world a better educated, more compassionate, more loving place.

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Notre Dame is Burning

April 15, 2019
A firefighter uses a hose to douse flames and smoke billowing from the roof at Notre-Dame Cathedral in Paris on April 15, 2019. Geoffroy Van Der Hasselt | AFP | Getty Images

And I see symbolism blazing
in the wreckaged, ruined frame
as onlookers are weeping,
knowing nothing may remain.

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There are No Strings on Me

March 13, 2019

When Avengers: Age of Ultron first came out on Blu-​ray, my brother came over to watch the film at my house. While watching, I suddenly had an idea for a lettering project: I wanted to draw the phrase Ultron seems obsessed with throughout the movie (which is, of course, from Pinocchio): “There are no strings on me.”

My thought was to use lots of swashes and embellishments, then finally ink it with my flex nib dip pen. I ended up vectoring the piece, but was unsatisfied with the first finalization. I sat on it for several months, then decided to rework it after reading Jessica Hische’s fantastic book, In Progress. The final result is something I can say I’m quite proud of.

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Reflections on privilege and poverty.

March 13, 2019

I have so much help at my fingertips, and I still risk poverty. For all my privilege, I’m still in this mess. And so many people are in the same boat.

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Cruelty in Christ

February 25, 2019

I’ve long defended evangelicals and fundamentalists alike, insisting that if they could only understand the harm they’re perpetuating, they would change.

But I can’t continue, in good conscience, telling my non-​Christian, queer, non-​white, disabled, and trans friends to give evangelicals in their lives another chance.

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Makeup of the Day, February 7th Edition

February 8, 2019
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