something the women in my family are absolutely flabbergasted by every time it comes up is the fact that i don’t own a scale.
“how do you know how much you weigh??” they cry.
“i don’t.” i simply respond.
“you look thinner, have you lost weight?” they ask at christmas.
“i dunno.” i say as i check on the turkey.
“you look bigger, have you gained weight?” they probe, as if my weight rests on their shoulders.
“i’m not sure, but it’s fine if i have.” i respond with a casualness they cannot comprehend.
“don’t you want to know if you’ve lost or gained?” they inquire over cups of coffee and a plate of untouched cookies.
“i do.” i take a sip. “which is why i don’t need to know.”
“we don’t understand.” they say.
“i’ll drive myself mad if i know. it’s been a question i’ve been looking for the answer to since i was in the seventh grade and my weight was the topic of conversation for the first time; the stretch marks on my calves puberty brought being questioned and condemned. and so i started weighing myself once a day. then twice a day. i gained weight as i grew and was told to stop. i got depressed when i was 16 and the weight i gained was more concerning than the scars on my thighs. the critiques turned to compliments during my first year of college when i’d started skipping meals and my body had to feed itself because i wouldn’t. everyday i stepped on the scale and smiled as i watched that number get smaller and smaller. hunger felt like victory. i started doing drugs that took away my appetite and then my strength. and started feeling guilt when my stomach felt full. and suddenly every time i looked in the mirror i hated what i saw. the more weight i lost, the better i was supposed to feel. each remark on another part of my body lost felt like a slap to the face. i was told i looked good but i knew i wasn’t good enough. and so i tried harder. and then i started to get dizzy when i stood. and i ignored it like i’d learned to ignore my hunger. and then one day at work i dropped like the weight that was never enough after i bending at the waist to grab a milk cap from the floor. and when the darkness faded, i was surrounded by panic as an ambulance was called. and then i was tested and prodded and poked because they thought something was wrong with my heart. and the problem persisted but they never found out why. but i’d known all along. and then i left home and its scale behind. and moved into a new home that was mine. so i bought plates and sheets and art for the walls. but i didn’t buy a scale. then every time i walked down an aisle i’d see the them and pause. and i’d think about the hunger i now kept at bay. and even though i didn’t know how much i weighed, i didn’t notice my body had changed. and i’d think about how i hadn’t been dizzy for months. and how i hadn’t fainted for longer. and then i’d keep on walking. and now most days i like how i look.”
“but don’t you want to be skinny?” comes their quiet response.
“i want to be myself in whatever body i have.”
they stare in disbelief. so i shrug my shoulders, and grab a cookie. and i smile at them as i swallow the first bite.
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a little divine appreciation
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God Gale is endgame for Mayhew, and Mayhew couldn't be more pleased 😌
their mutual wizard disease brought them to some pretty low lows, but hey, ignore the tragedy, they're gods now! first order of business is a little worshiping at the altar 😏
Here's the sketch, which I also like:
Got majorly inspired by these lovely photos, one of which I used as a pose reference.
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I think the important thing about body neutrality and body positivity existing side by side is that body positivity is a big hurdle for people who are just starting to work on learning to love their bodies. When someone's at their lowest point, it's better to say "aim for just fine," and once they reach that level of neutrality where they can appreciate the functional ways their body is serving them, it's a lot more feasible to make the jump to seeing the visual beauty of it.
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Yup.
Don’t be shitty about physical features, and please be *very* careful when relating these to emotional and personal characteristics - I get these can be really communicative and powerful, esp relating to things like gender euphoria, but they do that because they relate to cultural concepts about patriarchy etc that can really easily trip other people’s bad places.
And yes. All dicks are perfectly good dicks. All tits are perfectly good tits. That doesn’t mean you can’t mod them or get rid of them if you want - personally I’d love to get rid of my tits, but that’s very unlikely ever to happen, so I do my best to live with them and try to appreciate them objectively. They’re a body part and they’re fine. Body neutrality is a wonderful thing.
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I had another modeling session today which was good. I legitimately enjoy doing this. I’m basically getting paid to meditate in the weird positions I sit in anyway and I don’t have to wear uncomfortable clothes because I’m naked.
Truly another one of those “if it paid a proper living wage you could find someone who really wanted to do it” situations
The teacher I worked with today was really cool and sounds like he’s going to fight the system directly to get more hours for me. So that’s nice. I dunno it’s just nice to be around art all the time. It makes me really happy to just sit like a little gremlin and listen to twelve people scratch charcoal on paper.
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note: “69” is the word “rock” written in goroawase (substitution of letters for homophonic numbers) so it’s not uncommon to see him called 69 by jp users…
“the young lady” = lumina. (the “he” saying interesting things is rock. the other “he” is an insertion…)
taelwoo = they wrote teilou and this got auto translated funny
i wanted to spotlight these posts by twitter user wl_mihaya who has consistently neat writings regarding wonderful life’s characters
somehow i read this as Wada and Matsuyama showed the writing team the reference sheet again like “Look at this irredeemable debauchee. This spoilt summer child, this pampered prodigal prince who has tasted not the bitterness of life. This libertine, this chaud lapin. Coasting on the coattails of his well-to-do family in his obnoxiously baggy clothes. Disgusting. Good-for-nothing worthless son. Into the Romance Scenarios with him.”
AnWL’s NPC to tumblrsexyman conversion pipeline scenario writing department: “ok got it boss🫡(ohhhhhh what a tragic little meow meow 🥺 are you guys even seeing this. isn’t he just the most heartachingly aware of how pathetic he is yet utterly determined to carry on this pretense of confidence. let’s secretly make him wet and pathetic and impossibly stupid and so very Adopted)”
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