Label's Body Positive Art Festival in Manchester

On Friday August 26th there's a fantastic event lined up in Manchester. It's a Body Positive art festival to be held at Islington Mill in Salford, Manchester, a unique arts venue with wheelchair access. I was invited to the event By the organisers Label, but sadly I can't make it due to the distance involved. Label are a company who run body positive performances. From their website: Label is an organisation that runs body positive performances. We believe in inclusivity, and the value of offering people a platform to share their stories and reflect on their identities. Their tagline is: Labels are for clothing : Labels are not for people. I love that!

Kill 'em with fire or kill 'em with kindness?

Hello sweets,

Something that any woman on social media knows is that there are a lot of people out there who enjoy making women feel shitty about themselves. It's almost like a sport to them. Add fatness into the woman + social media equation and you may as well wear a bullseye on your front.

Last night I got a comment on my fatkini photo on Instagram, and I decided to respond to it. I normally block concern trolls/health judgers immediately and move on as my self worth doesn't hinge on other people's opinion of me and I don't usually care to engage with nasty-minded fools.

Yesterday the family got a bit of bad news and when people I love are going through shit it reminds me to treat people with compassion even more than usual. Hence rather than telling this person to go fuck themselves with a chic 1970s pineapple ice bucket (as I once instructed one concern troll) I decided to respond like a responsible adult.

Here's what they said and how I replied.

It's entirely up to you whether you choose to engage with haters on the internet. Let that sink in. You do not have to respond. If you respond you do not have to respond politely. (Seriously, people who are rude then get butt hurt if we aren't polite in response need to go choke on a pineapple. And people who whine when harassed people take their accounts private and can no longer be harassed need to choke on a medley of pineapples of all shapes and sizes.)

I usually report comments - if they're particularly gross - then block the offending account as I'd rather concentrate on the great people online. For some reason I decided I would engage with this person - I'm not sure why. I went into it taking the higher ground and assuming they are capable of a critical thought and a change of opinion. From past experience I would say thinking optimistically about concern trolls is futile at best and utterly demented at worst, but I live in hope of being proved wrong one day. :)

All I can hope is by being fearless in my self-love it encourages people to think a little differently about themselves and others. I live in hope that all it needs is a shift in perspective to stop concern trolls/health judgers from turning their shitty behaviour into shitty habits which ultimately culminate in them living shitty lives. I choose to love people on a daily basis because when I'm ashes in the wind or rotting in the ground I want my legacy to be pure love. How we treat others is a choice, and I want to be remembered for more good than bad. I want to be remembered for lifting people up, not bringing them down, or else it will have been a wasted life.

So sweet peas, a reminder - no matter what you look like you deserve to live a life free of stigma and ridicule in your body. Whether you are dieting or happy as you are. Whatever you eat, whatever exercise you do, whatever whatever whateverrrrr. There should be no qualifying behaviours for a person to be treated like a uh, yanno, person.

What say ye about health judging people and concern trolls? Kill 'em with fire, or kill 'em with kindness?

Thanks for reading,
Leah xoxo

8 ways to be body positive

Hello.

I want to talk about some ways to be body positive.

Edit - as of early 2017 and the way body positivity has been co-opted by thin people I don't call myself body positive any more, but fat positive. Don't believe that body positivity has been co-opted? Go through the hashtag on Instagram and you'll soon see what I mean. Fat people are constantly edged out of their own spaces.

1. Don't engage in any body snark at all - not on bodies like yours, and not on ones different to yours. If you catch yourself commenting on someone else's body in anything other than a complimentary way, bring yourself up on it, mentally or aloud. That kind of talk is poisonous, even if we're talking about ourselves. Let's spread positivity about our bodies and everyone else's instead. Let's not have young people growing up expecting to have their bodies commented on.

2. Learn to believe that everyone is beautiful in their own way. That includes YOU. If you can't see someone's beauty, look harder or longer. It might be the light in their eyes, their laugh, their kindness to others, their strength under difficulty, their intelligence, their joy, their sense of humour, or yes, their physical attributes. I have seen truly beautiful looking people who've repelled me once I've realised they're horrible people, and I've fallen madly in lust with totally unconventional beauties with beautiful souls. Beauty is everywhere, in everyone and if you can't think of a single good thing to say about someone's looks, don't say anything at all. Being body positive doesn't mean thin bashing if you're fat and fat bashing if you're thin. There are no 'Us VS Them' camps - body snark hurts all sizes of bodies. Body positivity is about seeing the variety of bodies represented in nature - all colours, sizes, shapes etc - and thinking how wonderful that is, rather than dissing and dehumanising people who look different to us.

3. To help yourself out of the negative mindset, avoid media which is obsessed with controlling the size of women's bodies and the idea of a narrow version of 'perfection'. Perfection is an illusion cynically designed to make us desperately unhappy with ourselves so we spend, spend, spend on anti-ageing products, diet products, clothes, make up, plastic surgery, etc. Reject it. Give up magazines which are obsessed with the culture of 'perfection'. Give up gossip columns and magazines which base a woman's worth on the size of her body.

4. Know that there is no 'them' and 'us'. ALL WOMEN are damaged by the ridiculous standards of beauty we're held up to, and what is covetable changes with the decades. Post war, curvaceous bodies were held up as the ideal, and in the 90s it was Kate Moss' 'heroin chic'. There is no wrong way to have a body, no matter what the trend is at any given time.

5. Know the obsession with the size of women's bodies is a vehicle to take away our power, as unhappy women are not strong and powerful. All the while a woman is obsessed with 'perfecting' her body, she is kept from many other worthwhile things she could and should be doing with her life. Diet culture is absolutely a form of control. It's misogynistic bollocks as most men aren't held to the same exacting standards as women are.

6. Don't moralise food choices. Someone who eats pizza isn't 'bad' because pizza is 'bad', and someone who eats bean sprouts and tofu isn't 'good' because those are 'good' foods. Some foods are nutritionally dense and some are not, but there are no good or bad foods, and judging people on their food choices or YOUR ASSUMPTION OF WHAT THEY EAT is wrong.

7. Don't moralise exercise, and how much exercise you think people do or don't do. Not everyone can exercise like you do, and even if they did they might get different results, so don't assume it's easy to get someone else's body to look like yours. And don't forget some people can do little or even no exercise due to disability, injury or illness.

8. Know that no one looks like the people you see in the magazines - not even the actual people in the magazines. Limbs are slimmed and lengthened, boobs are made bigger, skin is made more luminous, wrinkles and spots are erased, skin is lightened in people of colour (this ENRAGES me) and so many other things. You have to know you are basing your self esteem on comparisons to these airbrushed not-quite-people. That hard time you're giving yourself is based on a LIE. Please don't beat yourself up for not looking like someone in a magazine.

What are your tips on being body positive?

Thanks for reading,
Leah xoxo

Outfit | Age is just a number & a PSA

Hiya pickles!

I have an outfit and a bit of a lightbulb moment about ageing today. ;) I titled this post age is just a number after jokingly saying the 28 on this t-shirt is my age. Ha, nope. The public service announcement (lulz!) is how I feel about ageing. That's at the end of the post.

I'm in those bloody harem pants again. Someone rip them off my body! They're just so damn comfortable. I've washed them now. ;)

This t-shirt is really unusual. The 28 looks like it's embroidered, but it's actually printed.

I'm wearing:
T shirt, Yours Clothing, given to me by a Facebook friend
Harem pants, past season Simply Be similar here
Shoes, Everything 5 Pounds
Hair tikka past season ASOS similar here

I started working on my self image a few years ago. I chose to start loving myself, despite society as a whole inferring that fat people are second class citizens. I was sick of dieting and sick of beating myself up. That work is still ongoing and I've also started questioning other things I feel about myself. I've started examining the thoughts in my head and working out if they're actually MY thoughts, or if they're there because I've listened to a lifetime of oppressive bullshit.

There's a big ol' world out there, and much of it is run in favour of men. Quick disclaimer - I'm a feminist, and as a whole I'm not the biggest fan of men. That's bold, I know, but I'm talking about the acts of men collectively - murder, rape, warfare, yadda yadda. Statistically speaking, men are the kings of violent crime. On an INDIVIDUAL basis I love many men. My husband is a great man, so is my dad, my brother, my step dad. I have many great male friends and have worked predominantly amongst men over the years without shanking any of them. ;) That said, I would have to have had a blindfold on my entire life not to realise there are things which are easier for men than they are for women - for example, fat men get less abuse than fat women overall (although any kind of appearance based shaming is foul.) Men are called distinguished as they go grey and women are often called 'tired' and other unflattering terms. Why is this?

Well, different kinds of bigotry intersect - ageism, misogyny etc. Some men feel entitled to a woman who looks a certain way, but not just that. Some feel entitled that ALL women should look the way they want them to look. Some men get sad in the boner area if women don't diet, dye their greying hair, shave themselves as bald as a billiard ball all over, hack themselves up with plastic surgery to look younger and a zillion other things. If you've never in your life been told 'Ugh, I wouldn't shag you!' you're a rare and lucky woman. God forbid a woman undertakes ANY action without thinking about all the boners she might make sad by not simultaneously having the looks EVERY man might want, as arbitrary as that is.

This is why some men get butt hurt and give tattooed or pierced women a hard time. 'Oh, you've ruined yourself!' This is why some men take it as a personal affront if a woman has very short hair or doesn't shave, or any other thing they consider 'unfeminine', like we OWE them something. This is why some men are effing vile to fat women for daring not to consider their poor lonely boners. This is why older women are disrespected, ignored and expected to fade to beige and disappear once they're no longer considered shagable. Everything is about the cocks. It's entitlement on a huge and disgusting scale, and that entitlement controls the way women are referred to and thought of.

After all, who owns the media? A few grossly wealthy old white buggers, who use their privilege to tell other men how to treat women (and consequently, how women treat each other.) The insistence that women focus all of their efforts on dieting (staying weak and pliable, literally too hungry to focus on all the great things they COULD be doing) or else they're mocked and viciously hounded. We take our cues from the way we refer to famous women in the media, and it's brutal. The suggestion is that a woman's worth hinges COMPLETELY upon how young and shagable she looks, and that growing old is to be avoided at all costs. The media strips away our dignity, and business sells it back to us. Anti ageing creams, diet programs, plastic surgery, makeup, clothing. Most - if not all of us - play the game to some extent.

I decided I didn't want to give that power to anyone. I CHOOSE IF I'M BEAUTIFUL. Take the power back. Believe you're beautiful, and you will be.

I'm learning to love my grey hair and eye bags because they're testament to 41 years of living, loving and learning. No amount of money in the world would take me back to my youth where I was unsure of myself AND the world around me. I love me now, including all the good parts and all my faults. They make me ME. I've gone from hating my grey hairs to thinking 'I might leave my Morticia streaks (at my temples) alone next time I do my henna.' That's a big change in how I feel about them.

I'm seeing a lot of changes in my face this year - more wrinkles, slight crepiness, deepening eye bags. It made me reticent to show my face on my blog in close up. Why? Because I'm EXPECTED to feel shitty about my ageing face, and I did. How screwed up is that?! This led to me this thought:

If the world didn't tell you you had to hate yourself, would you?

I don't think I would. This shit is insidious - I've been on the self love train (not THAT self love) for over three years and I'm still realising how brainwashed I am. Next time you catch yourself having a bad thought about yourself, ask yourself 'Whose opinion IS that?!' and if you find it's been planted there by a lifetime of sexist bollocks from the media and Neanderthal men worrying about their precious boners, replace it with a kinder thought. And repeat, until your thoughts are completely your own. And encourage all the women in your life to do the same. Next time you catch someone you love putting herself down, nip it in the bud, especially if they're children. Children growing up with eating disorders break my bloody heart. Tell them something about them you admire. Looks neutral comments are always a winner. I tell my 9 year old niece that yes she's pretty, but she's also clever and kind and strong and funny. She's got her head screwed on right because no one acts as if her looks are the best thing about her.

Rather than harking back to my youth and the media's obsession with women 'losing' their looks as they age, I'm looking forward to the changes more years will bring, even though each phase will take some adjusting to. Beauty isn't dependent on age, or size, or any other arbitrary measurement. We are constantly in a state of flux. We aren't statues, our faces and bodies will change over time and it's perfectly natural.

Beauty is knowing yourself, owning what you are and not giving a stuff what anyone thinks of you. The media does not define your worth. Other people do not define your worth. It's within you. Claim it.

What say ye on all matters self worth? If you enjoyed this post, feel free to give it a share.

Thanks for reading,
Leah xoxo

P.S. First one to comment 'Not all men' on this post gets a kick right up the perineum.

The top was gifted to me by a Facebook friend and the trousers and shoes were bought by me.

Plus Size Promises

Hello lovelies!

The wonderful Debz - creator of We Are The They - has taken inspiration from Katt who promised herself some things this summer with regards to her body. Because Debz is so brilliant at uniting us plus size ladies, there are a whole bunch of us who've got together to make our bodies promises.

So, I promise:

1. If I'm hot, I will wear the clothes which the weather dictates. If it is a hot day, I will take a cardigan off and bare my arms. If I feel the urge to get my poor mottled corn-beef Fibro-affected shins out, I shall. I will NOT put everyone else's comfort before my own.
2. To put myself number one, to listen to my body's needs, and drink plenty of water and eat food which makes my body feel vital and well. To exercise in ways that make me happy, such as going on a walk to take photos for the blog, to have a dance around the living room, or do some stretching exercises when I'm in pain.
3. To concentrate more of the joy of putting outfits together to express myself/convey my personality, rather than feeling the blogger pressure to have new things all the time. I've fallen into the trap of thinking everyone wants new, new, new all the time and I'm sure it's not true. I seem to have fallen out of sync with what got me blogging in the first place - the joy of sharing simple outfits. The mundane, every day stuff as well as the pretty, polished stuff. I feel another month long outfit challenge coming on so I can get back into the swing of things - does anyone want to join me? Starting in July perhaps so we have time to prepare? 
4. I promise to make more effort with body positivity - both my own, and helping people to foster theirs. I've learned a lot about my body and loving yourself no matter what over the last few years and I need to share that with others who may need a guiding hand. Maybe I'll take a leaf out of Courtney Mina's book and post some underwear selfies on Instagram every day for a week!
5. I promise to keep reminding myself that most of society is sick, and THAT is the problem, not my body. Bodies have always existed in all shapes and sizes, but in this modern age body fascism seems to be everyone's favourite hobby. From health 'professionals' down to Neanderthals in the street, everyone has advice for us. I promise to continue batting that toxic shit away from me and being the best, most vital, most authentic me I can be. And to the haters, this face says it all. :)

What would you promise yourself? Thanks for reading!

I'm going to have a couple of days off blogging as my step dad is in hospital, so have a great weekend and I'll catch you on the other side.
Leah xoxo

Do the thing. Eff the fear.

Hello pickles,

My friend shared this photo on Facebook a few days ago and thought I'd share and expand upon it as I love the sentiment behind it.

SOURCE

Last year I to the beach with my family who were visiting us. Did I prepare myself in any way for being near-naked in public? Did I fake tan, shave myself as bald as a billiard ball top to toe or make any other preparations? Nope. I was as pale as a milk bottle, slightly hairy legged, devoid of makeup and I didn't care at all. The joy of feeling sun, air and the bracing sea on my body was so freeing and joyful that I wouldn't have cared if anyone had stared at me, the fat girl in a swimming costume. I say that hand on heart. No one could have brought me down at that moment. I was too happy, and I would've pitied anyone who tried to piss on my parade.

As it was, there were all kinds of people near us on the beach from wrinkly old grannies to tiny kids, all of whom were having too much fun to care about anyone else's body. It was great to be reminded that bodies come all different ways - old, young, taut, saggy, wrinkly, smooth, pale, dark, thin, fat. All perfectly natural, all OK.

Fear is good, it keeps us alive. We learn from painful experiences and we hold onto the fear to keep us from experiencing the bad thing again. Fat people deal with stigma and oppression on a daily basis and we might have more fear, or different fears to others, but we all have fears. Sometimes our fear response is out of proportion. I did CBT to reduce my crippling anxiety. It gave me the tools I need to determine if my fear is appropriate in any situation. (I didn't have CBT to give me confidence about my body, but as my confidence grew generally it was a happy side effect.) I started off challenging myself with small things that made me uncomfortable, and as each thing went well (everything did, without fail) it gave me more hope and confidence. I learned that things were far worse in my head than in reality.

I knew when I was on my way to the beach that there was a possibility someone may have given me evil looks, mocked me or insulted me, but I did it anyway. And I grew stronger from facing that fear. 

Find a way to challenge yourself once in a while, even if you start off with baby steps. If might be going from wearing long sleeved tops to short sleeved tops, and then braving bare arms. I guarantee the world won't implode. It might be going swimming in a t shirt over your swimsuit, or it might be rocking a bikini. It might be wearing all the bright colours instead of your safe black top-to-toe look. It might be trying a new hairstyle or getting your legs out in the sun for the first time in 20 years. Whatever your big fear is, work up to it in small bites or big chunks - just work at it. If people don't like what they see when they look at you, they can look away. Do the thing. Eff the fear. Live your life.

Happiness is on the other side of fear. For me, the joy of doing something I really want to do - like go to the beach - is far bigger than the fear of doing it.

Thanks for reading,
Leah xoxo

#WeAreTheThey - Breaking the rules

Hello you,

#WeAreTheThey is an amazing community of people organised by the wonderful Debz of Wannabe Princess. Read more about the thoughts behind #We AreTheThey here. Jamelia and likeminded cronies would say that fat people don't deserve to have nice clothes, or be able to access clothes freely, let alone have fun with clothes. I have something to say about that.

Fat people can't wear crop tops? Try to stop me. 

Fat people should cover up their VBO (visible belly outline)? WhatEVER.

Fat people shouldn't be allowed to have fun with clothes? Jog on, sunshine!

Fat people shouldn't wear sheer clothes? Poppycock!

Fat people can't wear bodycon? Kiss my generously sized behind.

I wear what I want. I wear what makes me happy. I don't get dressed with anyone else's pleasure in mind other than mine.

Fashion is joy. Fashion is self-expression. Fashion is identity. Fashion does NOT just belong to the thin.

What fashion 'rules' are you breaking?

Thanks for reading.
Leah xoxo

Thoughts on #PlusSizedWars and #WeAreTheThey

Hello sweet peas,

It would be really remiss of me not to talk about some of the wonderful things that have happened in plus size world in the last couple of days.

On Tuesday Plus Sized Wars aired in the UK on Channel 4 and I was so proud to see many amazing women who I know and have met have their say on their lives as plus size women. I was really glad to see Tess Holliday looking her usual radiant self, and for their to be some light shed on the plus size blogging (and shopping) scene in the UK. Make no mistake, some of our plus size bloggers like Danielle Vanier, Callie Thorpe and Georgina Horne are going stratospheric like some of the plus size bloggers in the US have done - Gabi Fresh, Chastity Garner, Nicolette Mason, etc etc.

On the whole the show was positive. There were a couple of things I'd liked to have seen - less of the lady who owns MiLK modelling agency, who basically seems to have signed Tess Munster because of her social media following and NOT because she's an amazingly beautiful, inspirational soul who happens to be in a plus size body. I'd also have liked to have seen more of Bethany Rutter, who writes so well on her blog and always has interesting things to say. It was also good to see behind the scenes at Evans and Yours Clothing, although the less said about Taking Shape and their 'Skinny Bird Watching' at LFW the better. One lady has already tweeted me to say she's ordered from TS after watching, so I'm glad it has at least introduced women to new places to shop. I just wish TS and every other plus size retailer who's gaffed recently would realise you don't need to pull 'Them VS Us' crap to sell clothes. You just don't. Clothes sell themselves, put them on a blogger and wheeeeee. No body shaming required, thankyouverymuch.

Overall though it started a conversation, and that can only be a good thing. I was very happy to see lots of plus size ladies I know on screen and not being made fun of like so often happens in tv shows about fat people. Yass.

Another thing that happened on Tuesday was Z-list chanteuse and A-List gobshite Jamelia appeared on Loose Women and suggested that people below a size 6 and people over a size 20 shouldn't be able to buy clothes on the high street as they're 'unhealthy'. Ohyesshedid.

HELLO?

What about naturally very petite women who may be a size 0 because that's the way their body IS? What does she suggest we do with women over a size 20? Corral us all into ghettoes where we'll exist clotheless until we've been shamed below a size 20? What if we don't lose weight? Euthanasia?! What about plus size athletes, like shotputters or weight lifters? Do they get to go to the NOT-OK Corral too?

Debz from Wannabe Princess decided yesterday to address Jamelia's comments on Twitter using the hashtag #WeAreTheThey, referring to the 'they' Jamelia kept referring to plus people as. Debz wanted to show Jamelia we are all people of different sizes, different personalities etc etc. To HUMANISE us basically, take it from her referring to us as 'they', othering us, and reminding her we are people with stories, as diverse as our bodies. We are outside the 'norm' but we are still people Goddamnit!

#WeAreTheThey

It was a raging success. There was so much positivity it was a delight. I spent a few hours spouting off and retweeting dozens of tweets from my sisters from other misters. I didn't engage Jamelia in any of the tweets because plenty of people were, and I see it that she has enough problems already. Namely her horrible personality. She ceased to have any relevance in the music world years ago and now earns her crust trying to be the new Katie Hopkins. What a waste of a life.

Jameela Jamil, who is awesome and not to be confused with Jamelia wrote this rebuttal. Well done, lady.

I'll leave this in closing.

What are your thoughts on Plus Sized Wars and WeAreTheThey?

Thanks for reading!
Leah xoxo

Photo Story #3

Hello you!

I'm really enjoying digging through the photo archives to find old photos to post.

These photos are from 2006 and James and I are in Alexandra Park, which is a large sprawling park in Hastings with woodland, fishing lakes, a rose garden and sports courts, amongst other things. We go every couple of months to see what changes the seasons bring.

This photo was taken back in the days when I was less comfortable having full length photos taken, as you can see by the limpet number I'm doing with the tree. ;) It's silly because I was a lot lighter then, which proves confidence is all in the head, isn't it? I didn't really know how to dress for my shape at all then. I didn't really get fashion until I started sharing my outfits on this blog. I've learned so much about my body and what suits me from trial and error, and I've reverted several shocking fashion fails to my drafts folder as they make me cringe to look at them! Haha.

I would recommend taking photos of yourself to anyone. I've totally learned to love myself by being able to see what I look like from all angles. Even if sometimes I've seen a photo and thought 'Ugh!' as a kneejerk reaction, after looking at it for a bit I'll soon start to like or love that part of my body. As fat people we don't see enough bodies like ours positively represented in the media so it's no wonder we have a fear of seeing our own bodies. And that fear of less than perfection is something that everyone can identify with, I'm sure, when so much is airbrushed and fake these days. We compare ourselves to computer approximations of people, not real people. It's so much fun to be different and celebrate our differences. That's what makes us beautiful, after all. I spent most of my life wanting to be like everyone else when I was a rare gem already. Love yourself, because no one does you as well as you do.

I'm a fan of Ansel Adams and his famous black and white works. I think black and white doesn't work for everything but is ideal for details, like the starkness of the bark on this tree. In colour it would be just another tree, but somehow the absence of colour brings out the texture. I can almost feel the bark under my fingertips.

Thanks for reading,
Leah xoxo

Unconditional Body Beautiful #3 - Legs

Hiya!

If I ever needed any proof at all that time flies, the time between these monthly assignments is evidence as it only seems like a breath since the last post.

This month it's all about the legs. I have had thin unshapely untoned legs, fat toned legs and every possible permutation in between. One thing my legs have always done for me is carried me where I wanted to go. I grew up in a car-less one parent family and if I wanted to go anywhere - school, youth club or to see my friends, I walked, no matter how far. From 11 years old I walked at least 3 miles a day outside of my school activities. By the time I was 18 I was walking at least 5 miles a day Monday to Friday. When I was 21 I spent 2 weeks in Greece walking up to 10 miles a day and swimming too, and I came home with the most lovely tanned and toned legs I've ever had.

My legs carried me on 12 hour days cleaning aircraft, running up and down stairs carrying heavy gear on and off planes, and walking miles to and from work on top of that. When I wasn't at work I was usually visiting friends or heading into London to walk all bloody day, nourished of course with the occasional rejuvenating stop at a pub. ;) From ages 19-35 I did jobs where I was on my feet all day. (I only had one office job in my life, from age 16-18.) When I met James when I was 28, we had no car, in fact we had no car for our first 7 years together, so everywhere we went we walked. We walked to town, we walked on holidays, we walked everywhere we wanted to go. By my mid 30s it would be a fair estimate to say I was walking 25-35 miles a week to get to work, and for leisure.

Tomb of the Kings, Cyprus 2007

My legs were always FREEDOM. Sometimes they were fat - my body waxed and waned - and they were smooth and I was troubled little by cellulite as I was so active. I always had chub rub even at my adult smallest size, (a 12-14) as that's the way my pelvis is formed and nothing is ever going to change that.

Despite always being active, my legs weren't always cooperative. When I was a child my knees would sometimes give way suddenly, as if someone had kicked me hard from behind. I think it was put down to growing pains, and I shrugged it off. It certainly didn't stop me doing anything, as I had no choice but to plough on. After my childhood fall down a concrete flight of steps and a very hard landing I developed problems with sprains in my wrists and ankles, but especially my ankles. I counted to 30 ankle sprains part way through the year at the age of about 11 and then gave up counting. We were a dirt poor family with no money for public transport, so doctor visits were saved for absolute emergencies, and it has never been investigated to this day, although I suspect I have joint hypermobility, which can come on after your body has been through trauma. (Being in a fat body my whole life and the subsequent lack of respect I've received from the medical profession has made me severely doctor phobic.) These frequent sprains followed me through my teens, 20s and 30s. I have shares in support bandages! Things on that front have only got better because I walk less distance and less often now.

When I was 21 (months after the holiday to Greece, thankfully) I was in an accident at work whilst cleaning a plane. I have talked about it at length before but essentially I fell hard onto a 6 inch metal bolt which was sticking out of the floor and it went into my kneecap, causing me some of the worst physical pain I've ever had.

It was a horrible time in my life - the NHS lost my records which affected my ongoing care (the NHS really let me down full stop at the time, giving me the shittest 'care' possible) and I had no choice but to go back to a hectic physical job with a disabling injury. Quite simply I needed the money to survive and I wasn't expecting anyone else to support me. I turned to drink and drugs to numb my pain - literally. For the next couple of years I was only really sober when I was asleep, but managed to keep onto my job all that time. I was a functioning near-alcoholic. Booze was everywhere, discarded by passengers and supplemented with liquid lunches in the airport bar and again after work until closing time. (Things were quite lax then, I doubt drinking in uniform would be allowed now.)

I was in severe pain for that whole time, and to this day I sometimes still limp. My left leg (the one affected) is almost an inch shorter than the right, which causes me hip and back problems, which causes my knee to give way even more and put paid to me ever comfortably wearing heels again. It clicks constantly and is often painful, but during the long rehabilitation and onwards I walked on it still. I didn't have the option of giving up, ever. (Some of you by now might understand why my body finally threw a shit fit, bringing on Fibromyalgia & CFS. Quite simply between falling down a flight of concrete steps and sustaining a back injury as a child, being run over by a Ford Transit van as a teenager ending up with head injuries and nerve damage, and this accident to cap it all off I sometimes wonder how I'm still bloody alive!)

Cyprus 2007

With all this to deal with my legs were just there I guess. I never really thought that much about them (or their appearance) as they were good, functional legs that took me everywhere I needed to go, even if I was in pain. Only since Fibro & CFS and the piling on of weight from my quite sedentary lifestyle (compared to what I was used to) have they become a life force of their own, joining up to an arse with its own field of gravity! I have some seriously sizeable thighs and sometimes it's a struggle to love them, as it is to love the new, bigger me sometimes. I was about a size 24 before chronic illness, but a very fit and toned 24 because of all the walking I did. I've gone up 2 sizes and lost some tone, although surprisingly there is still muscle to be found. Thank you body for holding onto some of my strength. :)

Fibromyalgia also brings a series of weird rashes to the body, and my shins are red, mottled and hold onto bruises for months/years. There are whole patches with broken blood vessels at the surface, which from a distance look like dirty marks or bruises. My skin there is also really dry, and when I shave my legs they bleed in several different places as the razor knocks off tiny callouses which have formed all over my legs. Sexy, eh?!

I can't walk anywhere near as far as I used to because the pain of Fibromyalgia is like all my bones and joints are on fire, and that's without the crippling cramps I get after walking (especially if I'm out in the cold too, that makes me cramp up on its own.) It is what it is, but I still have two legs which work in some kind of fashion, and I'm very grateful for that. I might not always like the look of my legs, but they can take me to some places and to experience some things still, and that to many would be a dream. So I can't do what I did before, but I can still do something. That has to be enough.

Thanks for reading,
Leah xoxo

Unconditional Body Beautiful - Part One

Hello sweet peas,

I've joined a body positivity workshop run by Rebecca from Rebequita Rose which is along a similar vein as Love EVERY Body, which I hosted last year. There's always room for more body positivity so when Rebecca asked me to join I was glad to accept.

Our first month's assignment is to talk about My body and I from the beginning.

Have you always loved your body? Why? How has your perception of your body changed over the years? How has your style evolved over the years in reference to your body perception? Do you dress to hide or flatter your body? ***Have you always been plus size/thin? How was each size different besides the obvious?

No, I have not always loved my body. I came out of the womb fat. I was a fat baby, a fat toddler, a fat child, a fat teenager and so on. I had a hard time growing up because I didn't have a single individual who told me I was OK to be me. Almost everyone made fun of me for my weight or commented on my weight when I was a child - other school kids, my own family, members of my mum's church and so on. Now it enrages me to think about the way adults talk to young children about their bodies and give them a complex about them. I had a very hard time growing up, as do so many other kids for a variety of reasons.

As you can see in the photos below I was a round faced 11 year old, but by the time I was 15 my love of walking had burned away much of my puppy fat, but I still thought I was huge because that's all I'd been told my whole life. My mum was also fat and had put me on my first diet (with the intervention of the family doctor) before the first photo was taken. My mum never meant to make me feel like a freak (and if you ever read this mum, I'm sorry, I know you just wanted me to have a better life than you did) but that's what happened and I thought no matter what happened I was fat, and would always be thought of as fat. I did lose weight by extremely unhealthy means when I was 17, but although my bones were sticking out all over the place, I still thought I was fat. Parents, this is what you do to your kids when you criticise their bodies at a young age.

11 year old me

15 year old me

The teenage years are hard for all of us. Our bodies are doing strange things and we're so hyper-aware we feel like the whole world is watching us. Having my body policed and commented on by other people since I was a child made this a particularly horrible time and I wouldn't go back to my teens for anything.

After I left school I had an office job for a few years, and from then on the next 15 years of my working life was spent in very active jobs, the most active of which was the 4 years I was cleaning airplanes. I was doing 4 x 12 hour shifts a week and the job involved heavy lifting, lots of running up and down aircraft steps, cleaning at a fast pace with ex-military police managers yelling at us to go faster (all of our managers were ex-forces - the job seemed to suit angry, micromanaging men) and lots and lots of brutally hard work. And still I was fat. Being fat for me has never been about laziness or excess - I've always loved exercise and worked (and played) like a trojan until Fibromyalgia and CFS/ME rendered me too ill to work. My mum was fat, my nan was fat, and probably her mum before her too. It's just the way my family rolls.

Life has always been a mixed bag for me, because although I was always fat and I knew some people treated me differently because of it, I also knew I was pretty and never had any problem attracting partners. I never felt any less likely to get a job because I was fat, for instance, as I've always had bags of personality. I never saw my size as a hindrance. I saw the people who treated me differently to others because of my size as being shallow idiots.

I did have a bit of an epiphany in 1998 when my nan died. I realised this is it - we are all really mortal, and all of us will one day die. (Prior to that I'd been working on the typical young person assertion that I was invincible. ;) ) It made me come out of my shell a bit and care less about what other people thought of me, and that has very much been a work in progress ever since.

I had dieted on and off from the age of about 10 (maybe earlier, I can't remember exactly when it was I was put on my first diet) until the age of about 35 or 36, when I finally had enough of it. Where had dieting got me? Fatter and fatter continuously. In fact the only time my weight and size stabilised was when I stopped dieting. About 2-3 years ago I discovered plus size blogs, and since that time I've immersed myself in them, as well as the body positive movements on Tumblr and Instagram. I also stopped reading magazines (most of them are obsessed with diets) and newspapers who are also sold on the 'only thin is worthwhile' message. Ugh.

Now I'm possibly as fat as I've ever been, but strangely I've never loved my body more. I've stopped beating myself up for the most part and concentrate on being the healthiest me I can, all my complex mental and physical health needs taken into account. Loving myself has NEVER been about the size of my body. It's about filtering out all the rubbish which society teaches us about our bodies.

Since I've been blogging I've learned so much about my body - how it looks from almost every angle, and what suits it. I choose to 'flatter' it or show it off in its natural state depending on my moods. 



The other participants so far:

http://www.rebequitarose.blogspot.co.uk/
www.jaymiranda.com
http://curvaciouslyyours.com
www.mode-plus.com
thecurvyandcurlycloset.com
PhatGirlFresh.com
http://everydayrunway365.blogspot.com.es
www.BBWGeneration.com
www.lagorditapresumida.com
www.shalondozier.wordpress.com
http://www.corporatecurvygirl.com
www.toodalookatie.com
www.prettypluspep.com
http://www.nattynikki.com
www.prettybigbutterflies.com
https://curvesbecomeher.wordpress.com
http://falalamele.blogspot.com.es
http://www.mariedenee.com
http://josofabscurvesity1.com/
katherinehaywardmylifewithcp.blogspot.com.es
http://josofabscurvesity1.com/
http://stylecassentials.blogspot.com

Thanks for reading. This workshop will last for a year and will have monthly topics.
Leah xoxo

My manifesto on fatness, vanity and ageing

Hello lovelies,

The other day on Instagram I was full of beans and kind of gave out my manifesto on fatness, vanity and ageing and I think it's worth repeating and expanding upon here for those of you who don't follow me on Instagram (why ever not?!)

I wanted to clear up the whole 'People who post selfies are up their own arse' business. I expect a lot of people DO think I'm full of myself but for me makeup and music are the only things getting me through the winter blues. If I look in the mirror and look like a dog's dinner I feel down all day, but if I do my hair and makeup and feel I look good, it does a lot for my self esteem and thus impacts on my mental health and I'm never going to be apologetic for that.

Cue selfie time!

SO FIT!

The world might expect me to be afraid to be vain, to hate myself as a lot of people hate fat people. But I say bollocks to that. Everyone is entitled to love themselves no matter what they look like and I highly recommend it. You get one life (unless you believe in reincarnation, ha!) and you can spend it being happy with your lot or you can spend it miserable. This doesn't mean you shouldn't try to change your body if you're unhappy, but doing things with self love in mind is healthier as you'll be kind to yourself in transition. As long as you love others more than you love yourself you're a perfectly well adjusted human being. Pat yourself on the back for being awesome and revel in your own beauty, even if it's only for 5 minutes a day.  'Look good feel good' is SO important for my mental health. I call it meditation in front of a mirror. I ask myself 'Who do I want to be today?' and the answer is anyone I bloody well like. 

Desire is so important to the human spirit. A woman opens up like a flower in bloom when she knows she's wanted, and as much as it's nice to have someone who fancies the arse off you, it's also really important to maintain self care so YOU find you attractive. When I feel really good about myself my sex drive goes through the roof. For me to feel smokin' hot it doesn't take a lot - some make up, my favourite perfume, sexy underwear, some kick arse music and I'm on cloud 9. Whatever makes you feel good is worth doing so you feel good about yourself - and that's as individual as you are. 

And while I'm up on my soapbox I want to talk about society's attitude to ageing women. We are shamed constantly if we show any hint of personality after the age of 40. There are loads of newspaper and magazine articles taking the piss out of women who dare to age. (Wrinkly knees seems to be the obsession of the Daily Mail. Do eff off!) Society expects us to either shrivel up and die or starve ourselves to the nth degree and shove more bits of plastic into our bodies than a Lego factory. So here's what I think to that. Let your hair go grey or don't, it's your bloody head. Do what you want to do with your body to nourish it and exercise it as best you can depending on your circumstances. If you want to wear clothes considered by many to be 'too young' do it and give the middle finger to anyone who doesn't like it. Wear as much or as little makeup as you want. Don't buy into that bullshit about all older women having to have short hair. What the eff? Where did that even come from?! Have hair down to your arse if it makes you happy. Wear all the colours. Reject a beige life and all these bullshit 'rules' designed to make ageing women disappear from view. 

I'm 40 and I'm not going into my grave beige and boring. I'm going kicking and screaming with my middle finger held aloft. Stuff caring what anyone else thinks. Be you, hold your head up high and refuse to diminish yourselves as you age. If you examine these rules, they all go to strengthen the position of men - but women pay the price. A system where we belittle one group to strengthen another stuffs us all up. This is why I'm a feminist! 

Men are allowed to go grey and wrinkly without being shamed for looking tired and worn out. They are called distinguished. Men are allowed to put on a little weight in their autumn years without a media frenzy about how they've 'let themselves go' - or at least when compared to the amount of women this happens to. Women get mocked if we look too old and we get doubly mocked if we bow to the pressure and try to look too young. Stuffed if you do, stuffed if you don't. Reject it all. Do what makes you happy, don't judge other women by these bullshit sexist rules and whatever you do don't diminish yourself in any way whatsoever as you age just because you're expected to. 

What do you think about the way women are treated as we age? What's your opinion on vanity?

Thanks for reading,
Leah xoxo

About 'promoting obesity'.

Hello!

For many (most?) of my usual readers, this might be preaching to the choir, but today I want to talk about the bullshit phrase 'promoting obesity'.

promote

prəˈməʊt

verb

verb: promote

1.

support or actively encourage (a cause, venture, etc.); further the progress of.

synonyms:

encourage, further, advance, assist, aid, help, contribute to, foster, nurture, develop, boost, stimulate, forward; advocate, recommend, urge, support, back, endorse, champion, speak for, proselytize, sponsor, espouse, push for, work for

Do I encourage fatness? Do I further it? Do I advance, assist, aid, help, foster, nurture, develop, boost, stimulate, forward, advocate it? Yadda yadda yadda. No. I simply dare to exist in my body without the shame society expects/demands me to have. When I refuse to be shamed or refuse to hate myself that's when the bigots crawl out of the woodwork. 'Promoting obesity' is a bullshit phrase used by people who want to deny basic human rights to people based on a physical characteristic. For all the posturing and the fake concerns for our health that is what it boils down to - bigotry. Pure and simple.

I'm fat, and I exist. I'm not promoting it. I'm just living my life. I breathe, but that doesn't mean I promote breathing. I have hazel eyes and freckles, but I don't promote them. The only thing I promote is not being a dick to other people to boost a superiority complex. I don't want to eradicate people who aren't fat and I've never heard of anyone who does. I don't encourage anyone else to try to become fat, and I'm certain no one has ever seen a photo of me then jumped up and declared 'Whoooo! It's the fat life for me!'

I want to be allowed to live my life in the face of overwhelming bigotry and I want that for everyone. I don't walk down the street carrying a placard that says 'Be fat or die!' I ask for the same rights as anyone - to exist, to be happy, to flourish, to be loved, to be treated equally. Many would say those rights are my due, but a small percentage would say I deserve nothing good because I have more adipose tissue than others. Isn't that ridiculous?

Imagine if you will that suddenly thin people are despised. Yes, let's pretend just for a moment.

'Jeez, that's just promoting thinness!' 
'Ugh, if they keep making clothes for thin people they won't put on weight!'
'Who does that thin bitch think she is, wearing nice clothes and pretending like that's normal?!'
'God, she's so unhealthy! I bet she eats nothing but quinoa and mung beans! That's not a balanced diet!'
'Who could find THAT attractive?'
'Ugh, all thin people should just die.'
'That person is totally going to die young or get ill and use up all my tax £/$!'
'That's just setting a bad example! Won't someone think about the children?!'

Shaming people on their physical characteristics is ludicrous.

Fat people daring to exist, quietly minding their own business is a big problem for bigoted asshats all over the internet. I don't know of any fat person with a secret desire to take over the world and kill all the slim people. We're not the ones who want to eradicate a percentage of the populace just because of the way they look. We're just doing our thing, living our lives and getting judged all the time.

I have a lot of friends and sometimes I like hanging around with other people who know what it's like to be 'othered' constantly. I have friends of all sizes though, because I'm not a bigoted jerk. I don't have size requirements for people who get to be in my life. I just go by 'Don't be an arsehole' and expect the same from my friends.

I've heard some ludicrous things typed by internet warriors such as 'Having clothes to fit fatties just encourages them.' Err, do you want to see us naked? No? Then shut the fuck up. If you think fat people deserve to wear sheets until we slim down enough to fit in 'normal' clothes, you really are a piece of work.

What do you think about the phrase 'promoting obesity'?

Thanks for reading.
Leah xoxo

Secrets to Summer Confidence with Simply Be

Hello lovelies,

Recently Simply Be got in touch to ask if I'd share their infographic all about summer confidence.


Discover the Simply Be swimwear collection

I'm in two minds about this infographic. On one hand, I look at the statistics and see that like a lot of women, I'm self conscious about my stomach, but then I see all the things women feel the need to arm themselves with before going to the beach - manis, pedis, cover ups, perfume, make up and a million other things and I feel so sad that this is an issue at all. It IS an issue though because women are programmed to compare themselves to others from birth, and there's also so much judgement about bigger bodies. I totally agree that well fitting swimwear is key to helping with beach confidence, but it pains me that a lot of women are so terrified of getting their bodies out they prepare for the beach like they're going to war.

How do I feel beach ready? I go to the beach, I put on a swimming costume and ta-daaaaaa I'm all done. Feeling the air on parts of my body which don't often get an airing is so freeing, and that in itself makes it a joyful experience. A couple of weeks ago I went to the beach (I'm lucky enough to live by the sea) and what did I do to get ready? Not a sausage. I had no make up on, I hadn't shaved for a few days, and parts of me were are pale I'm pretty sure I glow in the dark. No one looked at me, no one cared, and if they HAD said anything I would've given them the finger and carried on being fabulous.

I just want to hug every woman (and man) who feels so terrified of what should be a joyous, freeing occasion. When I was at the beach, I felt as joyful as I did on the beach as a child, with not a care in the world (until the sea chewed me up and spat me out, but that's another story altogether!) I know I'm lucky to be confident enough to get my size 28 body out on the beach and enjoy it, and that's something I wish for everyone, no matter what size they are. I hope with time and with more body positivity this is something we can all experience.

Readers, how do YOU feel about going to the beach? How to you prepare?

Thanks for reading.
Leah xoxo

My fat body is not weak

Hello.

I want to talk about an aspect of being fat today that very few people talk about or even seem to acknowledge - the supposition that fat bodies are weak.

My fat body is a STRONG body.

Grrrr.

Aged about 7, I was the stocky little kid pictured in the local newspaper holding the heavy crock pot gifted to the school headmistress on her retirement, as they wanted to make sure no one dropped it. (I must get a copy of that clipping from my mum, it's my only moment of 'fame'! Ha).

Aged about 10 I was the one who fronted up to my brother's teenage bullies (it's funny how bullies are often older than the kids they pick on, hmm?), often taking a beating for my troubles. I would never back down.

In my senior school years I walked miles every day. We didn't have a car so if I wanted to go anywhere, I took the Triple T (ten toes transport). I easily walked 3 miles a day to and from school, as well as to youth club and church and anywhere else I wanted to go.

At a size 18-20 in my early 20s I cleaned aircraft, bounding up the stairs to aircraft 2 at a time. I worked 12 hour days, lugging heavy gear on and off of aircraft, working fast and accurately whilst being bawled out by managers who were all ex-Army and military police, and they have their own special brand of neck-vein-bulging intensity fo' sho'. It was no place for weak people. I didn't want to be equal to the men I was working with, I wanted to be better and faster than them, and a lot of the time I was. And I walked an hour there and an hour back every day. I had a pretty sweet social life too.

Later in my twenties when I was a size 22-24 and an assistant manager (and later manager) of a busy shop at Gatwick airport again I walked an hour there and an hour back. When we had staffing issues, which was often, I did an 8-10 hour shift, went home for a few hours and came back again to work the rest of the day (the shop was open 17-18 hours a day in summer). I often walked for 4 HOURS A DAY on top of a looooooong working day on my feet. Does that sound weak to you? At this period of time I was having the time of my life going dancing every weekend I had off and spending a lot of my spare time on trains to London going to pubs or gigs, or seeing my friends in Manchester. Going to work on 2-3 hours sleep was no biggie. Oh, what a weakling I am! <all the sarcasm> (Admittedly the physical strain killed me after a year of this and I developed thyroid disease.)

In my early to mid 30s at about a size 22-24 I worked in retail sales, which often involved doing the warehouse job of escorting people's items to their cars, which meant moving huge big panel tvs, ovens, fridge freezers etc. You name it, I lugged it on a trolley, or by hand. When I went into retail admin there was slightly less grunt work than when I was in sales, but we were a small team who chipped in and job roles were very fluid. I was still on my feet for 90% of my working day, and walking at least 3 miles a day on top of that (and more on weekends.)

Basically from the age of 19 onwards until I had to give up work because of Fibromyalgia and CFS/ME I did work where there was always a very physical aspect to it. I had a desk job for the first 3 years of my working life - from 16 to about my 19th birthday. I'm not soft or unconditioned. I'm a fucking machine. I have a lot more padding than some people, but I'm not weak.

My calves are massive and rock hard with muscle from carrying around my abundance. Even now with my ridiculously useless Fibromyalgia hands, if I lock my arms behind a man's back I can lift him off the floor and twirl him around. I don't do physical work now (except housework, ha!) but I still have quite a lot of iceberg muscle - it's buried under the surface!

When you assume a fat person has no strength, you're doing them a disservice. You see softness and imagine weakness, when a lot of the time that fat person could probably whoop your arse. High 5 to all the big bodies out there doing amazing things every day. You are NOT a torso on the TV screaming about the 'OMFG obesity epidemic', you are strong and you are beautiful. Never let anyone make you feel less than.

Thanks for reading.

Love EVERY Body #8 - Skin

Hiya pickles,

I totally forgot to post this yesterday because of all the stuff going on in my personal life. How crap am I, forgetting to do my own challenge?!

I was always pretty lucky with my skin. I didn't have too many problems with spots growing up (in fact I'm sure I had more in my 30s than in my teens) and prior to the drying effects of Fibromyalgia, my skin was really soft.

Nowadays it's drier, particularly on my lower legs, but there are still some areas which are velvety soft, like my boobs and chins. I should moisturise my body more often but I only remember to do it once a week, if that. I drink a lot of water to try to moisturise myself from the inside out, and good oils like olive and coconut are good for your skin too.

I've always been very pale throughout the cold months, but I colour well in the summer effortlessly. I don't seek out the sun by any means, but if I catch the sun walking about I do like it. Normally my face is a hodge podge - I have really pale skin, loads of freckles and high red colouring too, which makes using foundation a pain as I never know which colour to wear to hide it all. In the summer the tan and freckles kind of mask any redness, and I really enjoy getting away with a bit of concealer and nothing else.

I take good care of the skin on my face - I cleanse, tone and moisturise twice a day and hardly ever go to bed with make up on. I'm getting some fierce eye bags now and have noticed a bit of crepiness on the skin along my jawline, but I don't think I look too bad in the face for a 40 year old. My deepest lines are frown lines, because I always frown when I'm thinking. 

I am vain though, and I'm not looking forward to the prospect of jowls and saggy upper eyelids as the years crawl on, by any means. My nan had gorgeous soft skin up until her death at 70 so I hope to take after her.

As time goes on I find I spend less on make up and more on skin care, because having a good base for the make up to go on is essential. 

Of course one of my favourite things to do with my skin is tattoo it. I'm rubbish at saving for tattoos and keep spending all my money on dresses, but I have about 4 more tattoos planned out so far. You can read about my tattoos here.

How do you feel about your skin?

Thanks for reading!

Leah xoxo