Like Jazmin, I learned to stand up to a doctor. That having a degree doesn’t give you rights to judge on people’s health by the way they look. That these people with degrees have been receiving the wrong information from university. And that universities CAN fail.

As a feminist, I learned that fat is a feminist issue. That now that we can vote and we can work, that we are not trapped in society and our houses, the system wants to trap us in our bodies. Remember when women wearing pants and having jobs was outrageous? Just like now never fearing our needs and loving our curves is outrageous.

Size Acceptance taught me how to be this outrageous. It sort of gave me a sense of fashion. Now I can discriminate what I wear, choose what doesn’t hide my body attributes, and not only put on circus tents and things to cover me. It made me realise I had these body attributes.

My consolation used to be that I was beautiful on the inside. Size Acceptance showed me I was beautiful on the outside too.

It also showed me skinny girls weren’t to be blamed for my problems. That fat can be healthy and skinny can be unhealthy. That tiny girls can have a huge appetite while I can just crave some yogurt and a banana. And there was nothing wrong with that. I have friends that come in all sizes and I love them to bits. There’s no skinny bias against them. There’s no fat bias against me either.

It reassured me that it is possible that my partner is not with me because I’m the best he could get, and that it is possible that he doesn’t wish he was with Keira Knightley. That he finds me beautiful inside and outside. That I don’t need to be jealous, because it is possible to be loved as I am. And if this isn’t true, it is not my fault.

It made me be more alert and discriminate sizeism, no matter how formal and subtle it looks. It made me stand out for myself and those who are and are not like me. To challenge stereotypes. It made me want to turn myself into a living proof that I am not a stereotype. And show this to the world.

It made me go back to blogging. It made me go back to writing. It made me want to read again. It made me feel truly passionate about something, for the first time in a million years. I’m falling in love with a topic again, instead of just roaming around and waiting for university (and my life) to be over.

Let’s say it made me wake up again.

When ever I’m at a party, or there’s a buffet or event where food is involved, I always felt restricted to only one helping, or only one cookie, or only one handful of chips. Why? Because I would feel, see people watching my ascent to the table and judge me as I reach for the food. And then I would have to dodge their glances to make it look like I didn’t hear any of their comments on my way back to my seat.

But, at the same time, it was ok for the thin people to go up an fill their plates 4 maybe even 5 times and no body would bat an eyelash.

Well, F- that. If that *insert food item here* is yummy, I’m going for seconds… and heaven forbid maybe even thirds.

If you can’t indulge at a party, then when can you indulge.

Doing simple things, like shopping… or getting my hair done, I would always compare myself to the skinny minnies who work at the shops and feel embarrassed just for being there. It’s in times like these that I would have to repeat the mantra

“I am a valid person, I deserve to be here as much as the next person”

In the beginning that was a lot harder to tell myself then it should have been. But, because I’m starting to see so many women around me not afraid of their sizes, rolls, or “chubbiness” I feel as though I’m finally starting to accept the person that I am. That I don’t merely have to tell myself that I’m valid, I go into these places and shops with only a slight hesitation… which will soon turn into expectation.

I was lucky enough to come to terms with myself (mostly) on my own, but that was the last hurdle.

I just danced the night away with my friends, dressed up to the nines. A few years ago I would have been paralyzed by the anxious awareness that I was the fattest person on the dance floor, and that my belly jiggles. Tonight I just danced and shimmied and had a fabulous time, because it felt so good. As a side-benefit, my friends all complemented my dancing- I even heard the word sexy!

I am trying really hard to stop criticizing myself in the same way. It’s much easier to point out positive things about others than myself.

I try not to restrict myself because of size restrictions that I assume come from others (but that really come from me). I stand in the locker room in my underwear instead of hiding in a beach towel. I plop my ass down between two people on the subway even if the seat looks too small (99% of the time it isn’t). I try on trendy styles of clothing that one would ordinarily expect to see on twig people and not me. Etc.