5 Things I’ll Do That’ll Make Me Happy

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It’s Friday, so you know what that means. It’s time for me to share with you my assignment #1 of The Nearsighted Owl’s How To Be a Fat Bitch Ecourse.

Week 1’s assignment was “Write down 5 things that you are going to do that make you happy. Not “even though you are fat” but because you are fat and awesome. 5 things that have nothing to do with trying for the sake of others. 5 things for yourself and your well being.

Here’s my answer:

How To Be A Fat Bitch Ecourse, assignment #1

How To Be A Fat Bitch Ecourse, assignment #1

If you can’t read my writing (no one can, not even me), here’s a typed version of the list.

1. Write as if my life depended on it (and it does)
2. Finish my degree
3. Find a new pair of heels. Get used to walking in them again.
4. Be femme as fuck, no apologies to anyone.
5. Bake cookies and make pies for me and my fiancé.

Most of those are pretty self-explanatory, but maybe 3 and 4 need some elucidation.

I miss walking in heels. I love being taller, I like wearing heels. They’re hard for me to find (size 13 women’s, wheee), but regardless — I love ’em.

Since the spinal injury, I haven’t been able to wear them. That’s going to change. I’m going to start going to physio again and get to a place where I can wear heels. Even if it’s for shorter time periods than before; even if I won’t be able to walk in them after 2 pints of vodka. (Dragon*Con peeps know what I’m talking about.) I miss heels, so I’m going to work on finding a new pair and getting used to them again.

Regarding my femme-y-ness: for a long time I made apologies for being femme because I was fat. I believed that I wasn’t allowed to be femme because femme meant feminine to me, and fat girls are constantly taught that we’re not allowed to be feminine. Because feminine is reserved for attractive women, and we’re told we’re not attractive.

Fuck that. I’m tired of making apologies for what I am. What I am is femme and fat, no matter what gender I’m swinging into on any given day. I have always been femme; my years of hiding behind a butch exterior (my nickname used to be Butch) was because I thought I wasn’t allowed to be femme.

So I defy that. And to prove it, here’s extra credit for Week 1:

femme as hell

Thanks for reading along, bewitched friends. See you on Monday.

-Kat

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