Celebrate America’s Next Top Model’s Acceptance

I am not ashamed to say I watch ANTM and I enjoy it. It’s one of my dirty little pleasures, as is most reality television. I’m not blind to the stereotypes it perpetuates, and I’m not blind to the ego of the panel, and I’m not blind to the other negatives. It, like everything, is not perfect. However, I do feel that it takes on a lot of issues, and offers a lot of good things.

For instance, on the latest cycle (11) there was a transgender contestant, Isis. Isis had amazing talent and was actually recruited by Tyra. I think this is an amazing thing. While I know the fashion world tends to be more accepting of a variety of people, we have to keep in mind that this show is nationally broadcasted. It is a show which has touched nearly every country, including several international spinoffs. That means millions upon millions of people see Isis, a beautiful transgender woman, in the mainstream where normally transgenders are stashed away in the dark. Isis could have went really far in the competition, though I think she psyched herself out which caused her early dismissal. I also think it allowed people’s concerns and fears to be publicly broadcast, and perhaps even encouraged discussion about the subject.

Let me tell you, some of the contestant’s responses were cruel, and disgusting and shallow. I’m sure the producers cut out the more jabbing of comments, because it is a show afterall, but the fact it showed any negative responses at all is a positive thing, IMO. I think this demonstrates just how ugly these thoughts and words can be. I think it shows how closed-minded people are, and I think when the girls later view their performances they’re going to be embarrassed. While I don’t want anyone to be shamed for what they think and feel, I believe that shining a spotlight on someone can sometimes provide a little insight. Though I wish theirs was a little less public, it is what it is.

I know Isis had some problems with being uncomfortable on set concerning wearing a swimsuit because she is pre-surgery, and I wish someone would have told her that the staff has her back. I think if something were exposed that shouldn’t be, the photographer would have ripped a new asshole in the person who dared any negative response. Then I think Tyra would follow suit. As self-centric as Tyra is, I believe she is a good person and wouldn’t have any of that bullshit. That doesn’t speak to the rest of the show’s crew, especially Sutan (one of the hair/make-up people) who has appeared on the show in drag. I wish there would have been more people who stepped up to Isis and was like “don’t sweat it, I’ve got your back” and maybe she wouldn’t have sweated the small stuff.

Of course, I completely understand where her fears and anxiety come from. She is a victim of terrorism and has to deal with the thought, every day, that it might be her last because of some silly ass fool who can’t handle who she is. So many of the contestants made statements about how in control and self-confident Isis is, how she doesn’t let shit get her down. I had to smirk when they said this, and comment to my husband, “Yeah, if they had to come to peace with the fact they could die, just by living, they would be more confident in who they are too”.

I know the show is about modeling, and the acceptance issue isn’t even close to being at the top of the agenda, but I do wish more of the downtime could have been focused on this elephant in the room. I feel as though since Tyra never brought it up with the girls, everyone was just pretending it didn’t exist on the outside. Yet, I am thankful that the invisibility was lessened, because even one inch is positive movement.

(Paying homage to my idea of Reward instead of Punishment. I would like to also cheer ANTM for the plus-size winner last year.)

Introduction to Asexuality

I have been meaning, for quite a while now, to post something concerning asexuality. It is something I’ve only been introduced to for a few years, and just recently started to relate to. Now that I use it as a way to describe myself, and have recently begun entering into the world again, I find that most people have no idea what it means. Most confuse it with celibacy, which is simply abstaining from sex. I assure you it is not just that. It is also not my choosing to avoid the sexual aspect of the world we live in, nor am I suffering some mental distress from past indiscretions. Sex does not scare me, I am not worried about no one wanting to have sex with me, nor am I using it to exert power over people. Asexuality is simply a word to describe someone who does not experience sexual attraction.

I have never been a sexual person, except for a brief period when I was 14 and my hormones were raging. Even then it was with one guy, and when I look back I think I was using sex like most every teenage girl does, to gain intimacy because I was simply /desperate/ for it. I am not asexual because I lack experience. I have played sex games with my cousins when I was younger (and being so confused about my sexuality then that I often spoke about having a sex change operation), and with girlfriends (which lead me to ask if maybe I was a lesbian). I fell in love with boys and wanting to hold hands and kiss, and I have fallen in love with women and wanting to spend my life just being with them. I have had phone sex and intercourse, watched porn and real life sex acts. I did my time having cyber sex and experimenting with the kinkier variations of hetero and homosexual sex. I was quite good at all these things, not to brag or toot my own horn, but the truth is the truth. I credit my natural tendency to listen and respond to people, my incessant curiosity which allowed me to speak about sex and learn everything I could, and my desire to except everyone’s kinks and desires without passing judgment. I always had the feeling that it is what it is.

Despite all this experimenting, I still was just not interested. I never masturbated in my youth (my first time was when I was 19) and had never had an orgasm. It was not for lack of people trying, it was just something my body was not responding to. I thought there was something wrong with me. I was too emotionally frigid (and was called that by some people before), or hadn’t found what would really bring me out. I spent several years thinking I was a submissive that needed to be dominated and told what to do, because otherwise I would do nothing sexual. I would fake my way through the motions, respond to my Dom in the way he wanted and wait for something in me to stir. It never came.

Now, I didn’t start this post to outline my sexual past, though I feel some detail is needed to see where I’m coming from. I know it doesn’t sound simple to the sexual people of the world, but to me it is. I do not experience sexual attraction.

There are a lot of people like me, and just like any group there are some major and minor differences betwen us. There is a subgroup most of us line up in which distinguishes whether or not we seek out romantic relationships (not sexual, romantic). I am romantic, if anyone cares. There are some people though, who are perfectly happy without a mate. No it is not the single women like Sex and the City portray who have just given up on the dating scene, they just don’t care anything about pairing (or grouping as you will) up. Those of us who are romantic have the same romantic preferences as the sexuals of the world. Some of us like the same gender, some like the opposite, some don’t care either way. There are asexuals who are transgender, and others who feel they have no gender at all. We are just as diverse and chaotic as the rest of the world, we just don’t experience sexual attraction.

There are some of us who are grossed out by sex, others who find it a perfectly acceptable activity. There are some of us who are sexually assaulted because we don’t understand the sexual world, and there are those of us who fight against sexual abuse and stand up for our more naive counterparts, as well as the million of other sexual abuse sufferers. There are some of us who do not understand when someone remarks about a “hot” celebrity or stranger on the street, and others of us who have learned to navigate and communicate with the sexual world.

And while I don’t mean to draw a separate line, because there is so much about the sexual and asexual cultures that are the same, we are also very, very different. I find myself apart of another group which is the redheaded stepchild of the world. Some asexuals have experienced exclusion from sexuality support groups in their area, considering asexuality not a “real sexual orientation”. We do have an orientation even if it is disbelieved just yet.

So that is what asexuality is, and I hope that helps clarify things for people. I also suggest checking out the AVEN website for more information.

The Inner Fat Hater

I don’t know about the rest of you, but I have an inner fat hater. This is not a voice which tells me how unacceptable I am, nor that I shouldn’t eat what I do. It is not a voice that tells me I’m ugly, or worthless, or shameful. No, it’s much worse than that. It’s a voice that tells me everything negative the world thinks about me. It reminds me, constantly, that while I may be okay with who I am and there are others who may be okay with it as well, most of the population still judges me based on my fat. As I’ve gotten more and more into the fat acceptance movement, I find myself trying to share the knowledge I’ve accumulated. I try to offer up the tidbits of science, research, theory, philosophy, etc., that I’ve picked up along the way. It isn’t much, but I offer it with whole heart. Yet I feel defeated before the words are even spoken, because no one is going to take a fat person seriously.

If I tell someone I don’t eat citrus fruit, because I hate the taste, my inner fat hater is quick to tell me that person is thinking “of course you hate fruit, you’re fat!”

If I tell a fellow classmate that there is no scientific data to support the fact that being fat is detrimental to one’s health, the inner fat hater smirks and reminds me my classmate isn’t listening because “of course a fat person would say that.”

When I stand up and try to speak out about fat discrimination, my inner fat hater tells me that no one cares because “fat people are just trying to justify their weak willpower and laziness.”

In my Women’s Studies class we talk about finding friends, partners, lovers, etc., which go against gender roles and the traditional ideals in order to break boundaries and make change. I want to tell everyone about my husband, and how I actively sought someone who did those things and who would accept me and want to make our lives ours without society’s standards dictating them. Yet I don’t, because my inner fat hater tells me “Yeah, but you’re fat” as though it discredits my being, and then adds any number of things such as “you would only be able to get married if you found someone who wasn’t a ‘real’ man” or “you’re lucky to even find a mate”.

Needless to say, I really hate this inner fat hater. I feel as though it takes self-sabotage to a whole other level. It is difficult to project confidence, whether real or pretend, when there is a voice whispering all the hateful things people say about fatties. It is hard to be full of conviction when speaking about facts concerning being fat and healthy when the inner fat hater’s voice is louder than one’s own. It is nearly impossible to make a believer our of others, when one cannot even convince the inner fat hater.

Do you have an inner fat hater? How do you quiet its voice?

Riding Greyhound While Fat

I took a trip cross-country on Greyhound. That’s right, from Athens, Georgia to Portland, Oregon. Many of you will say I’m crazy, and you would be right. It was the worst trip of my life, and something I would never do again. However, we were moving here on a very tight budget so we didn’t have much choice at the time. Nonetheless, I was surprised that my weight didn’t cause more problems.

1. Seating: I was lucky enough to be sitting with my husband the entire time, and I do pity the person traveling alone, especially if it’s a full bus. I am nearly 400 pounds and while the seats did fit me, there was definitely some spillage over into the other seat. I encountered three different seat types actually. Ones which were contoured with arm rests on both sides. These sits allowed the isle to be larger, though I still had to walk down the aisle sideways as not to bang up my legs. Sideways did offer less harm to myself, but if people were leaning into the aisle just a bit I had to kind of weave my way back and forth to avoid hitting them with belly or butt. Also, the armrests on the outside of the aisle seat, and the one in between the seats, did rise up to make more room. The armrest next to the window did not, which I found perplexing. There were seats nearly identical to the ones I just outlined, only they did not have an armrest on the inside, which severely cut down on the room, and makes a fat person having to sit next to another person nearly impossible. Neither party would be comfortable. The third seat type was larger, though making the aisle smaller which is a con, and the outermost armrest raised. The middle armrest did…mostly, but it seemed to cause me more problems that way and it felt better just to leave it down. Again, the armrest against the window did not move. My aunt had suggested to me to get the back seat, because it has three seats instead of two and may be more comfortable, but there is a major lack of leg room back there and I found it to be more uncomfortable then a normal seat. Plus, it’s right next to the bathroom. Ick.

Priority Seating: I thought this was a nifty thing. For $5 more, a person can choose priority seating which means they get to enter the bus ahead of everyone else and pick out which seat they want without judging eyes. It’s not just putting a person in the front of the line. Priority seating allowed a person to board about 15 minutes before everyone else, so they were able to find a seat and compose themselves before the rest of the passengers even begin to arrive. Unfortunately this service is not offered sometimes, like when buses are running behind schedule, so be sure to plan ahead.

Bus Station Seating: The bus stations had plenty of seating, and it was plenty large enough for us fat folks. I never had to stand when I didn’t want to, and I was in the terminal with close to 400 people once.

Bathrooms: It’s probably obvious, but it’s very unlikely a fat person is going to be able to use the onboard restroom. Not only is it positioned to be an utter inconvenience for a fat person to open the door to get into, it just simply can’t accommodate most sizes. My husband is 5′8 and about 220, wears anywhere from a 34 to 38 pants (depending on what he’s been up to lately) and had a hell of time. He was even lucky to be able to stand up to take a leak. I would recommend staying away from foods that cause bowel movements and drinking too much liquid. The bus station bathrooms weren’t bad. Some of the stations I were at had problems, because the handicapped stall was out of order and it made it difficult to use the smaller ones, but for the most part everything was a-okay. Thank goodness Greyhound seems to try to be ADA compliant.

On a separate note, why do all the handicapped stalls have toilets that are 6 feet off the ground? I am short, dammit, and I can’t properly handle my business and clean myself up from that business when I can’t even squat over the damn toilet.

People: I found most folks to be on the rude side. They push, they cut, they snicker and make jokes. I actually had one guy made a rude comment about my size while I was trying to find a bus. Granted we were all exhausted at this point, and he was a young, punk kid asserting his dominance over the fat kid so everyone would think he was cool, but it nonetheless was unacceptable. I just walked away, cried a minute in an empty seat I found, and moved on. If I would have had to share my seat with someone other than my husband during this trip, I think I would have experienced much more ridicule. The whole feel of the people on the bus was…hostile almost. I had another guy who sat behind me, tell me I couldn’t sit in front of him because his legs were so long they jammed up against the back of the seat and thus I couldn’t put my seat back. As though I needed to do that in order to fit. I didn’t, and I don’t normally put my seat back when I travel because I think it’s rude. No one has any space on buses and planes, why do we put our seat back and make the other person that much more uncomfortable?

Food: The website says that the buses stop during meal times, which might be true, but there is a serious lack of food. Some of the stations have restaurants inside, but their hours may not agree with the travel schedule a person is on and therefore they are left with only vending machine food. Very few actual restaurants were stopped at, instead one had to help themselves to gas station/trucker stop food. That was even if the place had more than chips and beef jerky to offer. And since I had three 8 hour layovers at different stations, sometimes I went 10 or 12 hours without eating. Not because I was unprepared, I did bring food with me, but because I ran out due to all the delays we were subjected to. It was nuts.

My opinion is that if it’s a short trip, like a day, then the bus may be the way to go instead of planes. There is a much higher chance of having one’s own seat, and there is no charging for People of Size bullshit. Plus there is no need for a seatbelt extender. It may take longer, but it also may save some anxiety. I know it did for me. Plus it’s harder to lose one’s luggage on the bus, since the traveler is in charge of moving it from bus to bus. However, anything longer than a day is likely better served with plane fare. I hate it as much as the next guy, yet an alternative has yet to be found.

Oil Cleaning Method (OCM) Day One

I first ready about OCM in a natural living community on Livejournal. I haven’t had the means to get my hands on the necessary tools, and now being in Portland has allowed that to happen. I would have purchased online, but I really wanted to get smaller amounts to test before investing. The How-to article outlines using Castor Oil and Extra Virgin Olive Oil for this method of cleansing, though later posts suggest Jojoba Oil because it’s closer to the natural sebum produced by our bodies. Other tips have been to be sure to use Cold Pressed Castor Oil, because the other methods may use chemicals which can cause the skin to react badly.

The mixture depends entirely on the skin type. More Castor Oil should be used for oily skin, while more Jojoba Oil for dry. It’s a completely experimental situation, which is why I opted to purchase small amounts to play with at first, though it’s recommended to start with a 50/50 mix and adjust from there. Other oils and things can be added, but I like to keep it simple during the first testing phase. Also, because I am not much of a spa-type girl, I opted not to steam my face. Many of the users on the LJ community I linked to also opt-out of this, and have still had success with the OCM. I didn’t see any reason why I shouldn’t.

I made my oil purchases at New Seasons. The Castor Oil is The Palma Christi, and is listed as “Pure, Cold Pressed, Top Quality Oil” on the bottle. It also states “Hexane-free and Certified”. The Jojoba oil I bought is Desert Essence. The bottle reads that it has “no alcohol, artificial detergents, color or synthetic perfumes” and also the ingredient list only contains Jojoba Oil. Having the purest of ingredients is essential for this experiment I believe, because then I can base my analysis on the products instead of wondering if some outside source is causing the reactions I experience.

As for my face, it seems to be about average. When I was younger, I had horrible acne, but in my adult years it has been one or two a week. They are also smallish pimples, since I have small pores. I do have a lot of discoloration on my face, and patches of dry skin. I find that the area just under my lips get kind of crusty and dry, no matter how much moisturizer I use. My nose and sometimes my forehead also get flaky and dry. I am mostly concerned about the chin/lip area, because it starts to turn brown and I seriously look like I’ve been eating mud or other perverse and unpleasant sounding activities. It has plagued me for many years. While I don’t buy into the whole beauty standard, I also don’t want my skin to look like it’s cracking and dying. I don’t wear make-up, and I don’t put a bunch of crap on it. I would like attractive skin that I have to mess with as little as possible. My husband has, and will always, take longer to get ready than I do.

I think that is a good primer for the first post. I did a mixture of 25% Castor oil and 75% Jojoba oil. Of course this is a rough estimate, I didn’t measure with instruments, instead opting to eyeball it. I massaged the mixture into my skin for a few minutes, until I felt like it had good coverage and was able to sink into my pores. Then I used a warm reusable shop towel (they’re more sturdy than paper towels) to wipe off the mixture. Afterwards my skin felt smooth and soft, and while it felt moist, it didn’t feel greasy or tight. The area under my lip still felt a little crusty, so I rubbed some plain Jojoba oil onto it and then onto my nose where I notice the most dryness.

I admit even after one application, I feel a difference in my skin. I also see a difference, as does my husband. His description, I kid you not, was “it used to look like gloss paint, but now it looks like semi-gloss. It’s nice”. I found this a rather odd description, not being much of a handyman but I’ll take what compliments I can get. I even noticed the chin/lip area didn’t feel crusty anymore, nor did it have the dark complexion. I will likely wait until the end of a month’s time before taking another picture. I plan to do the OCM method once or twice a week until then. I will apply the Jojoba oil whenever I feel my face is tight or crusty.

EDIT: The morning after my skin still felt supple and smooth. The chin/lip problem area felt like normal skin, and still didn’t have any discoloration. So far, OCM for the win!

My Absense and Return

I have been away my lovely Curvy people. I recently moved across country from Georgia to Portland, Oregon. It was a horrible and wonderful trip. I have also been without my computer while we get settled into the new place, adjust to the NW and city life, and get on a new schedule. I promise I will post soon. My trip and experiences here have sparked my brain. Future posts include being fat and riding Greyhound, synthetic hormones and the link to breast cancer, the double stable American society seems to have concerning pregnancy and marriage, Asexual introduction, and my experimentation with the Oil Cleansing Method. That’s just to name a few

So please bear with me at this time, and I hope you look forward to reading my posts as much as I look forward to writing them.