Moon

Jazz looked out the window and studied the moon. It was a full moon tonight. She loved full moons. They provided so much light. She loved gazing up at the dark sky just to see this big beautiful circle of love.

Love.

That’s what the moon represented to her.

It represented love.

It was perfect.

Pure.

Magical.

Why couldn’t people love like the moon? Bright and consistent. There was comfort in the moon. She needed to be comforted.

Many nights of loneliness plagued her. She longed for companionship after ending things with Jake. When would she have a chance at love?

She thought Jake was the one. The one man that made her realize that love was possible for her. She was a plus sized woman who never felt sexy.

Until she met Jake. He changed that. He changed her.

Her size wasn’t important. Her hips were something sexy he said often. Her thighs were magnificent he yelled whenever she complained about her chub rub. He said her stomach was gorgeous as he kissed her naked body with the moon serving as their only light when making love.

Jake.

Jake had her believe that anything was possible. He helped her discover her own identity. She would always be thankful for that.

Nothing else though. He destroyed those memories when she caught him with skinny ass Melanie. That tooth picked thin woman that sashayed after him.

He lied though. Don’t most people when they are caught?

When he couldn’t convince her of his lies he actually played the victim. Can you believe it? He was such a loser.

She laughed.

Jake didn’t realize that he awoke a fire in her belly when they were together. The fire was real and strong. It consumed her. She became a warrior.

A warrior woman. Strong. Unstoppable.

Which is why she knew it was time to kick his lying ass to the curb. She grabbed her jacket and threw on those skin tight boyfriend jeggings and a crop top. She glossed her lips and sprayed her perfume. She looked in the mirror and realized that she looked good.

She didn’t need a Jake. She needed freedom. She needed to chase the moon. She sighed and packed up her things. Time to head out. She was going to drive with the moonlight leading her way and Nina Simone singing I Don’t Want Him Anymore.

No looking back now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This post is part of the Daily Prompt. The word today was moon.

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Baby Got Tanned

Hey loves!

I just returned from a wonderful weekend in Miami and I got tanned. I’m browner than normal, but loving this sexy colored skin that I put SPF50 on. LOL! I don’t want skin cancer. But, they are always telling me that my Vitamin D is too low. So, here’s to getting that sun on this chocolate skin, thighs and back.

Enjoy the pictures:

The Fat Tales: Just Move Already

Okay, so as you know from my The Fat Tales: A Dose of Reality post last week that I’ve accepted the fact that I’m fat and need to move. Be active. Get back on track and make healthier choices because I don’t want to live a life hooked on medications or machines.

I’ve decided to update you with things that I’m learning on this journey in a segment that I’m calling “The Fat Tales” as a reminder that I have not been treating my body right. I am in no way, shape or form advocating against my curvy sisters. Nope. Not going to do it. I’m a curvy girl. BUT, being curvy doesn’t mean being unhealthy. I had to realize that.

It’s time that I’m held accountable for what I’m doing and not doing. I’m putting it out here because I need you to know that I’m holding myself accountable and just not wallowing in depression over my waist size. I’m going to move and make healthier choices.  Disclaimer: I’m still sexy. Got it!

This last week has proven to be both good and challenging for me. I went back to the gym, which was hard. It killed me. I hated it. I wanted to stop eating so I wouldn’t have to work out. I drank a lot more water. I’m running to the bathroom like every 5 minutes. I got a crook in my neck and experienced shooting pain down my sciatic nerve that kept me up.

But, I didn’t give up. Even though I wanted to and told myself that dialysis may not be so bad. Heck, what’s wrong with medications I can still eat what I want. (I’m just kidding). I slapped myself with a dose of reality when I looked into my munch’s big brown eyes.

Moving on…

I also signed up for this program called “Rally” with my medical provider, UnitedHealthcare Inc (UHC). My wellness specialist at my job was really inspired by my attitude to own my weight gain and more importantly to do something about it. I told her that I refuse to be hooked up to machines at 40 when I’m just getting my sexy back. She smiled and gave me all kinds of healthy stuff to read, plan meals and suggested that I sign up for Rally because I have UHC.  I did and I have to tell you that it is pretty cool.

Rally is an interactive experience that makes managing your health easy and fun. It gives you a dashboard with a health survey, missions, rewards and connections to cool things to get you moving and to motivate you to eat healthier. Nope, they are not paying me, but I wish right? But, I really enjoyed the survey and I almost died when it told me my “Rally Age”. See the screenshots below.

I’m 9 years over my actual age in Rally Age terms.

 

They recommend missions to help motivate you to move.
They recommend missions to help motivate you to move. I don’t smoke cigarettes, but I love an occasional cigar. But, maybe I shouldn’t?

 

They have challenges that you can join to earn points to enter a sweepstakes for a reward. I did this one last week.
They have challenges that you can join to earn points to enter a sweepstakes for a reward. I did the DC Dash last week.

 

They have communities where they share information to help you make better choices. I love it. Joined some too.
They have communities where they share information to help you make better choices. I love it. Joined some too.

 

So, I’ve gone back to the gym, became an advocate for my own health, signed up for Rally, changed some of my dietary needs (small steps. I LOVE BREAD) and started to keep a food journal and monitor my portion control. I am owning my choices and decisions to lead a healthier life. I will never be a size 6, but I will be the healthiest person that I can be at any size.

 

 

Curvy Girl Shopping

Okay so this year one of the things that I’m trying to do is show you me. All of me. Be more transparent in my writing. I think I’m pretty transparent, but there are some things that I still hold back on. One of the things is simply…me.

I don’t like putting my body out in cyberspace. Not that I’m embarrassed. No, I just don’t want the attention. Good or bad, I’m really private like that. Well, in my published piece last year I talked about owning my attitude about how I feel and look and being comfortable in my skin. I wanted to stop hiding and start loving.

Yeah, I love me. However, not on cyberspace. I am withdrawn and shy. As I started approaching 40, my best friend encouraged me to buy some new jeans. She said, “You’re losing weight and all your jeans hang off your waist and it’s not flattering.” I was shocked. One that she noticed my weight loss and two that it was bothering someone. I know it may seem small to some of you, but a curvy girl hates to be told she looks drab. Especially by someone you love and admire.

So, with that piece of advice, I bought my first pair of skinny jeans. Yep, at 40. It was hard ya’ll. I hated drawing attention to my waist and backside. But, I had to admit that it did flatter my shape in a positive way. Great advice bestie!

This weekend I accompanied my bestie shopping because she is going out-of-town and needed some cute clothes. Let me tell you that my bestie is a curvy girl too and if she does shop, she needs to try on clothes in the store. I’ve not tried on clothes in a store in years because I hate undressing in public spaces. I always wonder if they are secretly recording you. LOL!

So, I decided it would be a good idea to get another pair of skinny jeans and try on some clothes for moral support. Now, I’ve been losing weight and I find that I’m in between sizes. I hate that. I was originally in a size 26 jean and now I’m in a size 20 because a 22 is too big. I can’t believe I shared that, but I am owning my size and loving the skin that I’m in.

Now, back to the clothes. Ashley Stewart had their spring collection out and I was loving it. I was gravitating towards the bright colors because I could use some enhancements in the color department for my wardrobe.  Why? Because, I tend to gravitate towards darker colors. I found this beautiful fuchsia peplum trench jacket because a girl can never have too much pink in her wardrobe and this green trench with gold detail.

I’ve never been a fan of green, but let me tell you that I loved it. I loved the fit, the cut and the color was so eye-popping sexy that I had to buy it. I didn’t really try on any clothes outside of a pair of jeans and a lightweight sweater. I told you that I hated trying on clothes. But, I wanted to share the photos with you.

Let me know what you think.

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Fat and Happy

During my daily scroll on the Huffington Post last week, I spotted an interesting article entitled “If You Cannot Love Me Fat Then Don’t Love Me At All” and was instantly intrigued. Why? The title alone screams “Read Me Now”. In a day and age where we are all looking for someone to love or stay in love I wanted to see what the author had to say about loving a fat person.

It’s a great read because the author, Tony Posnanski, is telling his struggles with weight loss and meeting and finding his wife who loved and accepted him from day one as a big guy. He went from 220 pounds when they first met to gaining 75 pounds in the first two months of dating. His weight was up and down and what remained consistent was the fact that his wife loved him just as he was.

Don’t we all wish that someone would love us just the way we are? No trying to change me, just pure acceptance? As a curvy girl myself, I’m not arguing that his weight being up and down is a good thing. We all know the numerous health risks associated with obesity. He doesn’t discuss his issues with weight loss. He just wanted you to know that…If you can’t love me as I am, then don’t love me at all.

 

Girl Using A Tape Measure Checking Her Waistline

 

While some of you may think that it is quite obvious that’s what everyone wants, I would like to let you know that is not the case with curvy folks or specifically curvy girls. As a curvy girl, I’ve had men who wanted to help me get slim or question my workout routine or eating habits. What? Really?

It’s crazy. I don’t diet. I make healthier food choices, drink more water, get plenty of rest and exercise regularly. I want to live for my son. I want to be healthy for him. Not skinny. Healthy. I’m 40 and I have no health problems (knocks on wood). I want to keep it that way.

I want someone that loves me the way that I am knowing that my weight may fluctuate. In my younger days, I was fortunate to date some really great guys who loved me the way I was. One such guy, was Brian. He said that he loved me the way I was and that as long as I didn’t get bigger than him then he would never say a word. I inquired, “What if I do get bigger than you then what?” He looked at me and said, “Then I would say, baby we need to hit the gym. We’re putting on the pounds.” I smiled. I liked that answer. “We”.

There is nothing wrong with being accepted just the way you are today. It may not be pounds like me, but don’t you want acceptance by someone you love? It could be a physical or mental disability, but love should and hopefully would conqueror all.

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Under Construction

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I recently read this great piece on Huffington Post entitled “My Stretch Marks Don’t Define Me” and I screamed “Yes”. I love the article. Mainly because the author was talking about how she loves and accepts her stretch marks and they don’t define the sum of who she is.

In the beginning, I felt that my body was still under construction. You know trying to lose the baby weight, get sleep, eat right and get back down to my pre-pregnancy size or smaller. Well that didn’t happen and six years later it is still under construction.

I lost weight my entire pregnancy and in the end I gained 15 pounds before they removed munch for medical reasons. I was sick. So, that cute mommy whose baby was eating off her fat cells the entire time she was pregnant was excited that I could actually eat normal again after delivery. However, no one told me that the pregnancy weight would redistribute. I had pockets of fat in other places.

Too weak to exercise and too tired to care about being smaller for the first 4 years of his life had me accepting my bigger figure. But, I wanted to be healthier. Make healthier choices with food. Be alive for him. I have no health issues and I wanted to keep it that way.

I made many life changes this last year and the weight and inches are coming off. My body is still under construction, but I’m not embarrassed by the imperfections. I don’t want surgery to fix the reminder of my struggle to conceive. I accept it and will work at being healthy in my own way. Naturally.

My stretch marks show the path to parenthood running from my stomach to the top of my (umm, let’s say Olivia Pope). They show the price I paid to be a parent. The white weirdly shaped lines show that I fed my son in my womb. They mark the immense pressure my body was under when I was pregnant. They remind me of the painful bursts of pain I experienced when my son sat on my sciatic nerve. They are beautiful and I love them. I accept them.

Many things about my body changed when I had a baby, but I don’t care. The only thing I’ve ever hoped for was bigger breasts and a smaller nose, but unfortunately that didn’t happen. Wasn’t in the plans. My breasts grew big enough to nourish my son and then sadly went back down to their original size after nursing was done. But, even that doesn’t matter.

Why? Because I love my body just the way it is. Yep, I’m working out (not to be skinny) to be healthy, but my stretch marks won’t disappear. My breasts won’t grow (without surgery), my stomach will always bulge (unless I do liposuction), my thighs will still have cellulite and my incision will still be seen because of my C-section.

This body is and has been under construction for the last six years and it’s okay. Because you know what? I will still accept that I’m perfect just the way I am.

By Faith on Soar

My latest short story was published on one of my favorite websites. I originally wrote it to end the way I wrote it, but the response to write a second part has been overwhelming. I am extremely happy that people like it and they want to know what happens next. Please read it and give me your feedback.

It’s called By Faith and you can check it out here

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The Big Beautiful Uterus

Disclaimer:  If you have a weak stomach and don’t want to know the details of women’s medical issues, I advise you to stop reading now.

Okay, I warned you!

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So, yesterday I had a hysterosonogram and biopsy to find out what’s been going on with me. At almost 40, things seem like they are beginning to breakdown. In an earlier post I explained how my doctor had recommended this procedure without talking to me. All on email. Ah, the joys of modern technology! Well, I agreed and let me tell you what happened.

I arrived at their swanky Silver Spring location and sat waiting about 20 minutes before I was taken to the back. This annoyed the heck out of me because I was told to arrive 15 minutes prior to my appointment. Why arrive early to have to wait and not be seen earlier? Physician politics I tell you. I’m sitting in the waiting room with three pregnant women who are looking at me as though I’m knocked up and not married. Nope, that’s not me! I’m just the curvy nerd reading the latest issue of Time.

After some BAK’s (Bad A** Kids) began running around the office and my “If you don’t sit your bad tail down I’m gonna whoop your momma’s butt look didn’t work” I began to flip my magazine in utter frustration. Thankfully, the young lady calls me to the back. She asked “Did they tell you to arrive with an empty bladder?” “Umm, nope. I received no instructions whatsoever!” She smiled, “Can you please empty your bladder in this bathroom and go into exam room #3?” “Sure. I just had a big gulp and my bladder is pretty full.” She looked mortified. I responded “Just kidding. See you in a minute.”

When I arrived in the sonogram room (aka exam room #3) I was told to disrobe below the waist, sit on the table and put the sheet around my lower half. No problem. I’m a pro at this. The nurse comes back in and begins her examination of my uterus, cervix and ovaries (including the follicles). Yep I could see it all on the flat screen in the corner of the room. (A lot had changed since I had my last sonogram). While it was uncomfortable it no way prepared me for the hysterosonogram and biopsy that happened next.

The infamous (okay I’m the only one calling him infamous) doctor walks in and says, “Hi Tikeetha, we talked extensively about the procedure I’m about to do. Are you ready?” I was in utter shock, “Umm, by extensively you mean you emailed me and I responded and we emailed back and forth? Doctor we never spoke. Email is not a conversation.” He said, “Oh, I do most of my correspondence by email now because every time I call a patient back they are never available and I’m always leaving a message.” I smiled and said, “A message telling me why you are recommending an invasive procedure is better than email. I’m not that old where I don’t answer my phone. You had me hating you and crafty snarky responses for my blog about how you treated me.” He said, “Please don’t bad mouth me to the world, I will put a note in your file to call you for invasive procedures. I’m sorry that you felt as though I ignored you. I didn’t mean it.”

I was relieved and opened my legs on the table and said, “Okay, now that we’ve got the apology out of the way, I’m ready.” He smiled and began to explain the procedure. The cold speculum dang near caused me to have a heart attack and then he put the tube in and pushed the fluid into my cervix and uterus to get a clear picture. I felt a painful clip and intense cramping. I was sitting there thinking I should have taken 2000 mg of Tylenol or a dose of crack to help with the intense pain. (Point of clarification: I don’t use drugs. Jokes only).

As I lay on that table wishing for a speedy death because I was in hell he was doing the biopsy saying that he wasn’t getting enough fluid. “Her uterus is too big” is what he told the nurse. I sat there in shock wondering what is too big? He told me to look up at the monitor and said, “Tikeetha, everything looks great. Your uterus is clear and beautiful. I don’t see any cause of concern. Get dressed and meet me in my office and we will discuss next steps.” “Okay” I mumbled as he removed the dang speculum and I felt even more cramping. He left the room and the nurse said, “Okay, get dressed and here’s a pad for the fluid that will drip all day and some spotting that may occur. Open the door when you’re ready and I will walk you to the doctor’s office.” “Okay” was all I could say.

I got off the table feeling like I was sucker punched. I got up and holding on to the table proceeded to get dressed and headed to the doctor’s office. I sat down and he said, “Everything looks good. Your uterus is big and clear. I will have the results of the biopsy in a few days, but I’m optimistic that everything will be fine.” I looked at him and said, “Doctor, you keep saying that my uterus is big, is this normal or abnormal? A genetic default or are you saying because I’m a plus size cutie that it’s normal that I have a big uterus?”

He looked at me and said, “Umm, no. Ahh, no. Well, it’s a big beautiful uterus!” WTH? He said, “Let me show you on these photos. You had a history of fibroids that were inside of your uterus. When fibroids grow they distort the uterine cavity. They were removed and the walls never contract back to size. But, your uterus is big, beautiful and healthy. It’s clear and they’re no fibroids so we have many options available. I will let you know the results of the biopsy when I get them. Is email okay?” “Yes, if you are not telling me bad news. Email will be fine. Other than that pick up the phone please!” He smiled and said, “I will.” I responded, “Okay, well thank you for explaining everything to me. I will keep on the current medication as suggested and contact you in a couple of months.”

This is what it looked like when my fibroids were growing in my uterine wall.
This is what it looked like when my fibroids were growing in my uterine wall.

As he was walking me out of the office he said, “Tikeetha, please don’t let me see any bad reviews on Yelp.” I laughed, “Sure, doc! I will make sure to bad mouth you on my blog, Twitter and Facebook page.” He turned redder than an apple. “Just kidding” I responded.

So, as I walked out of the office slowly holding my abdomen, I thought it pretty cool that I have a big beautiful uterus. Interesting and problematic sometimes being a woman, but I’m pretty good with the results. Women always have it rough and if you don’t believe it, just ask a doctor to perform a hysterosonogram on you and you will know it’s the truth.

I’m not worried about the results of the biopsy. I have faith. Faith in God, my doctors and the fact that I’m meant to annoy a few more people before I’m called home to glory. I had so much faith that I decided to treat myself to my rum brownies and cherry vanilla ice cream last night. Trust me, it helped with the pain.
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No Fat Chicks!

Sometimes the hardest thing we can do is put ourselves out there. You know go “all in” to show someone we are ready and willing to be available to let happiness and love come into our lives. Dating has changed dramatically since I was last single. I’ve expressed how I’ve tried the on-line dating thing and my experiences from some of the men. That being said, I wonder what would have happened if no one tried to contact me after I posted my profile? That was the case of one woman who wrote an article about her experience on XO Jane last month.

The article titled “IT HAPPENED TO ME: I Tried Online Dating And No One Even Messaged Me Back” was depressing to me. I mean her profile and picture looked nice, what was wrong with men? Why didn’t they find her attractive? The author, Patrice Bendig, was crushed that not one person messaged her back. She put herself out there and was emotionally crushed by people who never got to find out how incredible she was.

She said that her self-esteem took a hit and as a curvy girl, my heart ached for her. I think one of the hardest things women (especially curvy women) deal with is finding someone who will admit to liking a thick um and wanting to be seen in public with them. All things curvy women fear. The fear of rejection is real and I think we need to stop acting like loving and dating a curvy girl is the end of the world.

Why would it be? Just because I have a little more cushion doesn’t mean that I don’t believe in exercise or am one step away from being featured on an episode of “Obsessed: I Weigh 650 Pounds and Can’t Get Out of Bed”. Nope. Not me. I am not ashamed of my size and I don’t want a man who is ashamed to be with me. I love the shape of my hips and the curve of my thighs. The stretch marks from carrying a king. All badges of honor that I wear well while working out on the treadmill.

Curvy girls come with a certain level of confidence, but that confidence is fragile when you find yourself dating and trying to meet new people who think you need to just work out and they will help you because they are a certified personal trainer. I’m always cautious about men who approach me and say they like thick women. They find curvy girls sexy. Really? So, everyone else is below par if they are smaller? Why are you saying you are a closet chubby chaser? (May not be rational, but I’m guarded).

Even one of my favorite plus size bloggers, CeCe Olisa blogged about her experiences in an article on Refinery 29 titled “Is Online Dating Different for Plus Size Women”. CeCe said “It can feel like everyone has an amazing dating life but you, and it can feel like you only attract people who have issues or fetishes. But, someone reminded me that those things happen to girls of any size.” But, do skinny women get humiliated like a faux curvy woman did in this Tinder experiment? (In case you don’t know, Tinder is an app that matches people based on appearances).

Probably not. I mean the guys who conducted the social experiment even said that women’s biggest fears about meeting a man on line is that he is a serial killer whereas a man’s biggest fear…meeting a fat chick. Wow! Let’s sound the alarm and have a revolution against ignorance. What happened to men who appreciated beautiful women inside and out? Where did they go? Can the non-jerks who love God, their family, curvy women and are employed please stand up?

In an “Instagram I got to show you how I can twerk like Nikki Minaj and close the partition like Beyoncé age” it makes me wonder how many times curvy girls will keep getting the short end of the stick in dating? Are we resigned to believe that we have to take what we can get because they’re not a lot of options out there? What happened to getting to know me first before trying to guess my pant size?

A lot of stuff huh? Well I’m going to deal with it like my momma said, “Put your big girl panties on and formulate a plan.” My plan is simple. Keep my expectations low, my self-esteem high and have a lot of confidence to carry me through this foolishness. Rejection is a part of the process. Rejection builds character. It is in our painful experiences that we can grow and realize that we were built to last.

¡Viva la revolución mis hermanas

(Long live the revolution my sisters!)

Here’s the social experiment video: