number 1 rule of tumblr: you must reblog when ever our creator comes up on your dash.
Tonight I was biking my fat ass up a hill when someone drove by in a car and yelled “COW!”
At first it stung a little because we all know that word is loaded with an intense history of hatred towards the feminine and is specifically linked to the size of a persons body and their perceived desirability or sexual currency in dominant culture.
I kept on biking, and I let my fat assed rage take me to the top of the hill before I stopped. Then I promptly burst into tears.
I burst into tears because biking up hills is something that is a really big deal for me and a huge form of resistance against a culture that does not want my body to be seen in public, especially not while exerting energy via exercise and I was really proud of myself
I burst into tears because I am EMOTIONAL (and that’s okay!) and because words like COW and FAT and BITCH and WHORE have been trying to make me, and many other people invisible for my entire fucking life and even before that and I feel pretty over it
I burst into tears because words like that serve to reinforce a world where fat bodies are only seen in certain contexts and have kept me and many other people I know from moving our bodies in self-determined ways that reflect our different abilities and bodies and make us feel empowered
I burst into tears because that person probably just hated who they were and wanted to make me feel bad so that they could, for a moment feel cool, or funny, or like they had power over me. I feel sad that we live in a world that makes us do that to each other
And then I laughed because I am so over feeling upset about those things or holding them in my heart because of the wonderful support of people who follow me and read my words (because you really do make me stronger)
And I laughed because I am so grateful for the support of the people in my life who are real with me and honest and want me to feel empowered, like my supportive and amazing brother who was with me through this experience
And I laughed because I wished I had yelled “that’s FAT cow to you! if you’re gonna insult me, at least do it properly”.
I share this story with you in the hopes that I continue to have the strength to use my body as a form of resistance, on my own terms and in ways that make me feel joy. I share this because maybe someone will get something from my story and use it as they wish, be it hope for the future, or fuel for resistance.
in love and rage,
A FAT COW
(aka Majestic)
HARDER, BETTER, FATTER, STRONGER FOREVER AND EVER
reblogging because it’s summer and this is relevant
