"Did you really just call yourself fat?" The surprise is palpable.

Yes. Yes I did. 

This was never a secret. 

No amount of layers or "flattering" clothing are going to hide or shrink me. 

For fuck's sake I'm just shy of 5'10" and I take up space! 

Newsflash: that's ok. 

Queue response. "You're not fat you're <insert platitude here>." 

Bitches I never said I wasn't beautiful, amazing, talented, loving, and a general kick ass person. 

I KNOW I am majestic as fuck! I am an Amazon! These thighs could kill a man (or woman. Not really particular who's brave enough to take them on *brow waggle*).

I AM fat. It's not an insult, it's not the commentary on my character and personality that society would like to make it. It's just a descriptor. 

My rolls are as generous as my heart and both are beautiful. So why the Hell would I try to pretend I am lesser in any way or accept when others do? 

And to those thinking it, please spare me the "glorifying obesity" shtick. I know it's embedded pretty far up your ass, but you too can learn that every body deserves love and acceptance no matter where it is on its journey. 

You don't know how healthy I am or am not just by looking at me. You only know I'm fat. And I'm ok with that. 

I wasted ENTIRELY too long hating myself, let alone caring about what the rest of the world thought. And sure there are still shitty days it all gets to me. But I'm not into being my own enemy. That doesn't help any of us my beauties!