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Words Hurt
Trigger/Content Warning: child abuse, verbal abuse, eating disorders, body dysmorphia I’d like to thank all of you who commented and tweeted kind and healing words in response to my post the other day about my anxiety about doctor visits and body autonomy. It was a hard post to write and share and it’s been interesting since because it’s sort of opened the flood gates, as if by writing that post I was allowing myself to really look at that trauma and see it for what it was: child abuse. I’ve decided to share everything I can remember in terms of how my parents modelled negative relationships with food, fatphobia, ignorance…
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Boob Day: Outtake
This photo was never meant to be a feature. Imperfect, forgettable, lacklustre.
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Boobday: it feels like Friday
It’s been quite a week: libido in overdrive but creativity in major drought. In both senses I’ve felt a bit scrambled.
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Boob Day: Unrestrained
I discovered a new hashtag on Instagram yesterday …
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Boob Day: Distract Me
It’s been a gray couple days. Not feeling myself, not wanting to connect, trying to understand what this funk is. Maybe I just need distracting?
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Boob Day: Mission Accomplished
Late for dinner plans, couldn’t keep my hands off myself. Just a quick lift of my dress, a photo, a text … and then his stream of heart-eye emojis. I win.
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Boob Day: Hi, I’m the New Girl
New city, that means updating online profiles like FetLife and flipping through bios of studly young bucks, going eenie-meanie-miney-mo, tolerating loads of disappointing messages (womp womp) and making a few rare connections only to have all but the best fall through.
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Boob Day: Venus with the Red Nails
That one red pinky finger nail, like a cherry jellybean.
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Boob Day: Insomniac
I’m traveling today, which always makes me just a bit keyed up. Tired but not sure how well I’ll sleep.
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When I Fall
This is an anonymous guest post by the same stunning woman, Eve, whose breasts we saw for Boobday and whose slice stunned us for Sinful Sunday. The words and self portrait are her own. I think they combine beautifully and make for a gorgeous meditation on self love, self care and body acceptance.
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Boob Day: Shame is the lie someone told you about yourself
I was 27 the first time my father told me I looked beautiful.
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Boob Day: Distracted
Things have been busy around here. Lots of writing, new connections, upcoming collaborations. It can be hard to stay focused. This BoobDay picture really begs the question …