My Fat is Divine

Content Warning: eating disorder behaviors, recovery, clothing sizes. ancient depictions of nude forms.

I went to the bathroom today and realized something amazing.

I’m okay that I’m a size 12. I realize there is tremendous size privilege in this statement. I’m smaller than the average American woman. I fit into straight sized clothes. And my body fluctuates: some of my clothes are 8/9s. Some are 10s. Some are 14s.

I am a spectrum.

But the passive, accepting thought was RADICAL. I like my body. I like the curves and how it is expanding. It’s still hard for me to look in the mirror some days. If I’m being honest, I take a lot less pictures of myself. But I understand those moments are fleeting. I have no desire to diet. There are some days where I wish I was smaller, but when I imagine what it would mean to shrink myself, it just isn’t worth it. It isn’t worth the hunger or the guaranteed binging, or the weakness, or the worry.

All for what?

When I relapsed a few years ago, I was a smaller, but similar size. I still comfortably wear most clothes from that time period. But I wouldn’t drink water until I had weighed myself on an empty stomach. It meant I could wake up at 5:30 so thirsty and not drink until I weighed myself at 7:30. My body HURT from lack of nutrition. My muscles ached when I would walk. For what? to weigh 10 pounds less?

This new stage in my recovery is directly tied to the spiritual and meditative work I’ve been doing with ancient divine feminine energy.

A few months ago, I started looking at paleolithic art. Venus figures and carvings populated the search results. These creations struck a chord within me; every woman was fat. And not stylistically fat. FAT FAT. I started looking at how these artisans 20, 30, 40 thousand years ago captured the fat rolls on the bodies. How hips dipped, bellies rolled, breasts sagged. These weren’t just symbols of fertility. These were representations of flesh.

Image result for venus of laussel
Look at the careful detail the artist put into the fat roll above the belly. Now look at your own body when you sit or stand and the roll that is there. Love it. Caress it.

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Look at how the fat of her hips falls over her thighs. Or how her heavy breasts make the fat of her stomach curve. Or the wide stretched oval of her naval. This is not stylistic. This is representative.

The more I meditated on these women, the more I started to see the goddess reflected in my own body. I see Venus in the rolls of my stomach. I see her in how my body folds and creases. I feel her softness in my softness and her protection in my fat.

Fat is Divine.

I am releasing myself from the need to be small. Let me grow into my strength. Let my fat sing the praises of the beauty of the divine feminine. I am Divine. I am Creation.

My newest tattoo. The Venus of Laussel sits on my left thigh, her crescent moon with thirteen marks pointing to my womb. She is glorious, fat, protective, and strong.

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