In helping other heartbroken and healing folks out there, I made a list of strategies I am using right now to get through when the only way out is through. My friend Elisabeth told me last week, on a particularly bad day when I listened to too much Taylor Swift (she helps until she hurts), "Lean into the discomfort and breathe." Much easier said than done, but I know it can be done because I am actually doing it right now.
This year I've decided to "Know My Own Strength." I struggled with choosing this as an intention for a minute because I wondered if it was going to incite the Goddess to rain down shit upon me the way she did during my Saturn Return. I know I never get any challenge that I'm not actually strong enough for. Also, it's one of the major emerging themes in the memoir I'm writing, that I didn't know my own strength. I'm learning a lot from the process of writing the book and some of the stuff I'm learning are things I didn't realize about myself. Like how much I never really knew my own strength. So I am imagining a 2013 where I meet challenges head-on, knowing I have everything I need to meet them. Including the ever important ability to ask for help when I need it!
I guess I've been slow to write this post because I was waiting for the aha moment of why I got so anxious after the storm. I think some of it was how connected human beings are--in Brooklyn we were literally surrounded by devastation.
In the last few days I have felt my life perk up noticeably and I think it was because I let myself settle into the joy of the season. On my own terms and not because a TV show or commercial told me to.
So, how to solve the issue of chub rub? First of all, I want to say this is not just a problem for fat people. This is a problem for lots of folks of all sizes who wear pants and who wear dresses. Chub rub is a pervasive fashion issue. Luckily, fat femmes have each others' backs and we've been swapping these solutions for years. Here are some methods I know about, starting with the two I prefer.
As much as I laud the benefits of intimacies long distance--I love to travel, laycations are decadent adventures and can be cheap, not as much chance of ex/friend overlap makes it cleaner--the truth is I really haven't given dating in New York the same kind of dedication and ardor I do my other pursuits. I am always so skittish about friend overlap and just busy with my three careers and friends that finding time to go on blind dates with people seems daunting.
In the interest of truly dedicating myself to the pursuit of a casual local sweetheart or two to give me an occasional distraction without requiring a plane trip and a dog sitter,* I have decided to create a blog series out of going on cruising escapades. I am also really interested in broadening my horizons--I think that is the best way to see what the New York queer scene has to offer. Plus, constantly stepping outside of your comfort zone is one of The Success Principles and I have recently begun following the advice of the tall tan man.**
My first step out into Bevin's Untapped Cruising Territory was the Go Magazine Nightlife Awards.
In May 2008 I discovered the queer hipster party circuit in Brooklyn and it revolutionized my New York nightlife experience.
I came of age shaking my ass at gay boy bars with my fag friends, one of the only dyke fag hags in the joint. Let's face it, a Femme loves a Fag.* And once I stopped trying to fit in at lesbian bars, because it never worked, I was generally annoyed at the bad music or lack of people dancing.
During its four year stint, Panty Ho's was an institution in queer nightlife. Located in the Williamsburg neighborhood of Brooklyn, a hive for hipsters, it definitely had the crowd of big plastic 80s eye glasses and ironic/unironic neon fashion. I walked in and was so excited to see a bunch of hot queers I didn't know, hear incredible dance music, and drink cheap booze. And while I felt excited about the social possibilities, I was also a little freaked out at the lack of body size diversity. It was clear to me that I was the fattest girl there by a long shot and one of only a smattering of Femmes.**
On October 11, 2009, I competed for the title of Miss Lez 2009. The pageant, founded by the legendary Murray Hill, is "a wildly provocative, insane, jaw-dropping alternative beauty pageant for queer womyn that blows the lid off of 'gender representation' and shines the spotlight on New York’s underground queer scene." It was an honor to represent my favorite clothing store as Miss Re/Dress NYC. It was also really fun to use my art and my extensive wardrobe (I didn't buy a single new outfit for the pageant) to express myself in this unusual performance art format.
Since the contest I have received numerous accolades for my performance and requests for the written version of my pageant platform. I don't like to disappoint, and thus I present unto you, gentle readers, my pageant entry.
Thanksgiving is a really hard time of year for me. It is one of those holidays that puts into sharp relief how very single I am. I am happy with my life, I am making my life into the kind of life I want to be living and am extremely grateful that I'm not in an unhappy, unsatisfying and sad lesbian foot warming* kind of relationship.
However, when you were in a relationship (or 2 back to back relationships, in my case) where you were creating a family... Thanksgiving is just one of those family holidays where you feel extra weird when your day to day family doesn't involve other people.
Just like Bad Fat Days, which happen to all fat activists and body loving fat people, being Single in Sharp Relief can be jarring even for the most ardently happy single person. But we already have all the coping mechanisms we need to get through it, just like Bad Fat Days.