Fat Girl,

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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We don’t have to be okay.

January 11, 2013

You don’t have to be okay.

You’re allowed to be sad.

You’re allowed to cry.

You’re allowed to be overwhelmed.

It’s okay. Really.

Not being okay is okay sometimes.

You don’t owe happiness to people when you don’t feel it.

You don’t owe happiness to people at the expense of your emotional and mental and spiritual health.

It’s okay to take care of you, and sometimes that looks like not being okay.

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Existential perfection, problematic cultural systems, and being okay.

January 5, 2013

These cultures, these systems of thought, are pervasive. Good people with good intentions perpetuate these systems unknowingly without understanding the consequences.

But these systems do have consequences.

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The body I have.

January 2, 2013

Neither being fat nor being female is shameful. My feminine body doesn’t have the magical mythical ability to strip away the logical thought-​processes of men, making them into helpless hormone-​driven apes. My fat body is still my body, and it’s my vehicle in this life. It doesn’t belong to anyone else for their commentary, critique, or approval. It belongs to me. It harms no one.

These concepts may seem really simple and obvious. But I’ve struggled with them subconsciously for all of my life. And as I sit here in my skinny jeans and fitted top, for the first time in my life I am fat, female, and unashamed.

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I want to believe.

December 27, 2012

I want to believe, but at the same time I have to find joy even when I don’t. I have to know that it’s okay not to believe. Good things happen, good things exist, even in doubt and uncertainty. And if they exist in doubt and uncertainty, they will exist still in belief.

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Introspection on depression, anxiety, eating disorders, and life.

November 9, 2012

What’s so wrong with attention? Does my wasting body not tell you about my wasting soul? Do the scars on my arms and legs not tell you about the scars on my soul? For the girl with the words, the girl who was going to write books some day, I never ever had the words for the pain. And I still don’t, even though I’ve long left the starving and cutting.

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A strong legacy.

May 29, 2012

Mom,

You know how you always say that a letter is better than a gift, because it’s something you can read over and over again through the years? Well, I thought that maybe I’d make my letter to you public, so other people can enjoy how awesome you are, too.

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The proper response.

December 8, 2011

Trigger warning: sexual assault, rape.

When someone tells you that they have been sexually assaulted, harassed, molested, raped, or anything of the sort, the proper response is to say, “I’m so sorry. It wasn’t your fault. What happened to you was reprehensible, and no one should be forced to go through that. What can I do to be there for you? Do you want to report it to the police? I will be with you every step of the way, no matter what you do. You’re not alone.”

If you have any doubts about whether or not they are telling the truth, the proper response is still the same as the above. Do not voice your lack of concern. Do not voice or otherwise show your incredulity. Be nothing short of supportive.

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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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Ch-​ch-​ch-​changes

May 26, 2018

Welcome to the new site in all its work-​in-​progress glory. Let’s talk about some stuff, like why there’s a new site in the first place and what you can expect from me moving forward.

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The Process of Being.

April 16, 2017

This Saturday, April 22, I will turn 30 years old. (Want to help me celebrate?)

Frankly, this terrifies me.

All my life, I never envisioned myself living past the age of 28. I figured that either the rapture would have occurred, or I would have killed myself. So you’d think 29 would have been my all-​out panic year, but I spent 29 dealing with a lot of other things.

Now, with 30 at my doorstep, I’m caught in its headlights, awaiting its impact with an ever-​increasing sense of dread.

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As dumpster fires go.

December 31, 2016

I’ve been sitting here for a good 10 minutes, just staring at the screen. Occasionally typing a sentence or two, then deleting. The words I want to say aren’t words I feel I can say yet, and so I choose to be silent. Much like I have most of this year, if you’ve noticed. On January 18, I left my husband. There’s much that…

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Cognitive distortion and taking up space.

November 3, 2016

My brain is spinning with thoughts and conversations over the past weeks, the culmination of almost a year’s worth of introspection and mourning. “I looked through the journal section of your blog and noticed you haven’t really written lately,” a friend noted. No. I haven’t. I’ve been afraid, frankly. With some good reason and probably with some over-​​reaction.…

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Codependent avoidance.

May 27, 2016

I’m spending a lot of time just sort of sitting with myself. What do I want? What do I think? What am I willing to give, or ask for? Why? Am I just trying to placate others for my own comfort and ease of anxiety, or is this something I’m genuinely willing to agree to or compromise on? If so, why?

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When I must be “The Bad Guy.”

February 1, 2016

I could explain my thought processes for every step of these various journeys. I’m very prone to explaining and dissecting and hoping beyond hope that I can just <i>make you see why and how,</i> make you see cause and effect, connect dots for you, connect dots for me. I want to feel justified, validated. I don’t want to be The Bad Guy. I don’t want to accept that to so many, I am petulant and over-​sharing and running away from problems that could be fixed if I would just try harder. But I can’t change, even if I tried. Even if I wanted to.* And so…here I sit. The Bad Guy. It’s not comfortable. I don’t like it. But if this is who I have to be in order to be <i>me</i>, then so be it.

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Celebrate the little victories.

July 3, 2015

These are such small things. Such little victories. What right have I to celebrate them?

The same right I have to celebrate the victories of all of my friends and family who deal with chronic illnesses, physical and mental. Small victories are victories. Medication that allows me to escape the never-​ending cycle of panic is useful. Wrapping myself in soft, warm cloth is calming and soothing. Touching my skin and putting makeup on with gentle, loving hands is crucial on days where I struggle to love myself. Such a short amount of time of my day, and yet now I am calm. I can think. I am okay.

Celebrate the little victories. Always, celebrate the little victories.

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Always. Choose love.

April 21, 2015

You are so young. I am so young. We have much to learn, you and I, twelve years apart and still growing.

But in the face of all of the unknowable, unsearchable future, let’s you and I promise to always choose love — for ourselves, for others. We’ll find our way from there.

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Pain demands to be felt.

June 7, 2014
Image from beliefnet.

I just watched The Fault in Our Stars and I’m having feelings about my dad who is dying (slowly) of cancer.

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