Dames for Dreams: Power of She 2015 -- Growth

I am going to print this out and hang it above my bed.
Maybe then, when I have feelings of being a blobfish,
I can see I am a mermaid instead.

Since the last Power of She shoot, I have been eagerly awaiting for this year's session. This project means a *lot* to me. It means more than I can ever hope to express. While I have shied away from sharing the results of the shot on my personal FB page to avoid the backlash I received from my own mother, I have received an immense amount of support from those who have seen it.

I am also pretty sure people will look at the shots and go with the usual crap I have heard a thousand times before:

*You have such a pretty face, if you'd only lose some weight...
* Aren't you worried about your health?
* You are a disgusting pig!
* Hah, she looks like a whale!
* Gross, take her away. I don't want to see that shit!

That's fine. I am completely aware that body size aside, I am not everybody's cup of tea. I am too loud. I am obnoxious. Too opinionated. I swear like a motherfucking sailor. I have a vulgar mouth and so much sex on the brain my friends are quite used to my taking a simple comment extremely out of context in genuine confusion. I have a pretty strong belief system in both politics and religion. I am too stubborn 'for my own good' as someone once told me -- and contrary to her firm belief, I found love, got married and have a partner who is my equal.

My fatness is simply exterior decoration. If a person cannot get past my dimples and rolls, they are not worth my time.

A close friend of mine asked me if I had bee nervous during the shoot. I honestly responded that since this wasn't the first time I had posed for the project, nervousness was not an issue. At least until the train chugged on by and then all I could really do was wave. I mean, where the hell was I supposed to hide? There was *nothing* to hide behind out there, except another naked woman.

Our conversation carried on and he asked me a question I found myself in awe of.

"What does your husband think?"

I suppose that is the same question a certain family member had intended to ask but instead took a very big chunk out of their foot last year. Honestly, I am not sure on that front-- for my mental sake, I hope that was the reason behind the explosion of 2014. As far as my friend goes, he was genuine in his question.

What does Manthing think? He encourages me to do continue with Power of She. He finds the images tasteful. He finds me beautiful... and he hopes that some day, I can see me the same way he sees me.

This project has been a turning point in my life.

Last year's shot took place a few weeks after I had a total meltdown. He burst into the room after he heard me fall and found me collapsed on the floor in front of the mirrored closet door, one leg in my pants the other sprawled out before me. My face was scrunched up in a silent scream, my hands fisted at my side as I fought back the urge to break the mirror. Break my face. Cut up my body. He thought I had fallen and hurt myself.

The truth? I couldn't stand looking at myself.

"I am a fridge." I recalled crying out as I buried my face in his shoulder. He held me for I don't know how long. He rocked me as I sobbed and he kissed my tears dry.

Eventually we laughed a little at how ridiculous I had been, but he did say something that has stuck by me until this very day: "It is a sad truth to know that the woman I adore and find so beautiful thinks of herself so horribly that she no longer identifies as a living creature. She is an inanimate object in her mind."

All the words people will say and have said about my body, I have said worse. Of all the hate I can potentially get for daring to pose nude for Power of She, I have done worse. I have bruised myself on purpose. Scarred myself out of frustration. Starved myself because I hated my body. I have done so much to my body that I am lucky to be alive.

When I saw the end result of 2014, I was confused. I found the pictures pretty but I could not understand why people kept telling me I was 'brave' or 'inspiring' or whatever positive adverb you can throw at me for doing so. I was hurt when I was shamed by people I thought had understood my struggles with self acceptance.

Here I am a full year later and I think, maybe, that I am starting to understand.

It has been a long hard road away from the bedroom floor of my old apartment to the sandy beach where I posed this year. It has been filled with self-loathing , frustration, tears, blood and anxiety. There have been days where I have been content to lay in bed for more than twenty hours, sobbing quietly.

Power of She is not a magic cure. It is a form of self awareness and self acceptance. It is an inspiration for others like me who suffer with self-loathing to learn to love themselves again.

This body, big as it is, full of scars, bruises, dimples, rolls and topped with saggy boobs is mine. This is the same body that takes me for walks at the beach and that my husband reaches out to in his sleep. I am still not happy with this body. I sometimes feel the weight of my breasts tug me down because it hurts to sit upright with or without a bra. Summer nights are insufferable as sweat gathers in places I rather not existed. When I have the energy for it to work out, my knees give out. My elbow aches, my wrists in constant pain from day-to-day tasks but know something?

This is my body. This is the only body I will ever have and it is about damn time that I start loving it as it is, rolls and all. I am tired of hating me as I am and hoping that if I hit the magic number on a scale a switch will be flipped in my head and I'll finally love my body.

I doubt I will ever be the skinny girl certain people wish me to be and that is fine. All I ever wanted was to see what people see when they call me beautiful.

And I think I just caught a glimpse of her in these photos.