The Myth of Killing with Kindness and The Assholery Behind The Phrase

As a realist, I’m often accused of being brutally honest for simply telling it like it is, so here’s a squirrel in a sweater to shelter y’all namby-pamby bitch ass optimists from today’s truth bomb since I’m so adept at myth busting:

From Facebook page 'Squirrels Make Me Happy'

From Facebook page Squirrels Make Me Happy

Moving right along…

There are only two reasons why anyone would use the phrase “kill them with kindness”;

1 ) Because you’re a coddled prick who’s disconcerted by the concept of being called out on your bullshit, so you demand kindness even when you don’t deserve it.

2 ) You’re a self-important prick who feels entitled to one’s time, attention, and acknowledgement of your glorious presence, so you demand it under the guise of “kindness”, even after the other party has made abundantly clear they’d rather not associate with you.

So what you’re really saying when you offer the ill-conceived tidbit of “just kill your oppressor with kindness” is “Smile while you let that abusive fuckbrained dicksnack walk over you”, and if you’re the one purporting to be killing with kindness, what you’re really doing is forcing yourself on someone who would rather not be bothered with your horse shit.

“But wait! This person was mean to me first, so I’m being kind because it annoys them!”

You have every right to retaliate against an abusive twatwig, but call it what it really is; “killing slowly and painfully with madness-inducing passive-aggressiveness.”

“But this person was a customer at my job, so I have to be nice or I’ll be fired”

I’ve been there, and to a much lesser extent, I’m there now, so I’m not hating on anyone who’s not in a position to fight back. In this case, “killing with kindness” is really “corporate compulsory kindness”, or CCK, and the reason approximately 87% of Colonial Heights residents have been killed by “kindness” in one of my short stories 😉

#Therapy* *In ADDITION to professional help, NOT a substitute!

 

“But what would Jesus do?”

If Jesus can turn water into wine, then he can turn bullshit into weed and smoke it.

“But if you don’t have anything nice to say, then don’t say anything at all!”

Key phrase here is DON’T SAY ANYTHING, not “If you don’t have anything nice to say, cloy your opponent to the point of projectile vomiting”, not “if you don’t have anything nice to say, make up shit about them and spread it far and wide until you feel vindicated”, not “If you don’t have anything nice to say, spew a bunch of syrupy saccharine glittery unicorn piss until the one you’re blatantly trying to annoy is visibly distressed”, but “If you don’t have anything nice to say, do. Fucking. NOT! Say anything at all”.

In order for kindness to be a virtue, it must be genuine. If you make a point of chirping “good morning” to your surly coworker until they respond because you get off on their irritation, you’re not being kind, you’re being self serving. A kind gesture would be offering to do something to make their day easier, such as starting a pot of coffee or fetching the mail.

If you’ve been blocked on Facebook, so you “like” and comment shit like “looking good! Hope all is well with you!” on the blocker’s tweets and instagram posts, you’re not being kind, you’re being a creepy stalker. You know damn well your behavior is scary. Especially considering it’s just as easy to unfollow and remain friends as it is to block, kindness would be respecting their wish to be left alone. Maybe a single email to offer an apology, but leave the ball in their court and move on.

To truly carry out an act of kindness, it must be done without expectation of recognition, otherwise, it’s most likely assholery disguised as charity.

As always, thanks for reading, and feel free to share any myths you’d like me to bust in an upcoming post 🙂

TL;DR version:

1 ) The phrase “kill them with kindness” is a tool of oppression used to silence victims or insert yourself into the life of someone who’s done with your shit.

2 ) Don’t be a dick.

3 ) You are never obliged to tolerate dickish behavior.

4 ) If you piss me off, and I respond with silence, then you need to thank whomever the fuck you pray to because that means I’m plotting your death in a short story instead of real life.

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How Not To Be a Dick to Someone Who’s Mentally Ill

Hey, y’all! It has been brought to my attention that May is National Mental Health month, so I’m going to break from my 30 day writing challenge to dispense timeless #NikWisdom.

Today’s assignment is to name four weird traits about myself, and really, what’s not weird about me? I’ll wait…

I’ve written on this subject before, and I can’t believe it’s even necessary for me to address this fuckery AGAIN, yet, here I am.

This should be common fucking sense, but if someone is kind enough to tell you about their mental illness, it’s because they care enough to want you to know you have nothing to do with why they’re having a meltdown, that they’re late for work every Wednesday because they see a shrink, that when they’re shaky and jittery, it’s because their meds are being adjusted, and not because they’re having withdrawals of some sort (also not a reason to be a dick).

So if you’ve been trusted with the health status of another, keep it the fuck to yourself. It’s not that hard, just follow these simple steps:

  1. Shut the fuck up.
  2. Repeat.

If you’re still confused, you’re too stupid to leave the house. Don’t reproduce.

On that note, don’t come here crying ableism. I don’t know anyone who’s mentally ill and/or has a learning disability who’s offended by the words “stupid”, “idiot”, or “crazy”, but deciding for us what we’re offended by is actually ableist as fuck.

“But wait! I’m totes kidding with you when I say ignorant dumb fuck shit like ‘you’re very productive today, you must be on a bipolar high’ ”

-Fuckwit who’s desperate for an assful of foot.

By definition, jokes are funny. Disclosing your coworkers health issues to clients and friends is the opposite of funny; it’s just plain sad and pathetic on your part. It says everything about you, and nothing about the person you’re gossiping about.

“But you’re already open about it! You write about your depression all the time!”

-Same Fuckwit

*I* write about MY depression, you’re free to write about yours, but you don’t speak for me. Also, being that I blog about my various health issues, if you’re gonna talk about me, the least you could do is direct folks to my blog, like my page, and subscribe to my YouTube channel.

Also, I’m open about it because I want folks to understand that chemical imbalances don’t discriminate. I was raised by both my parents, (who are still together) I had a large support system of family, and plenty of structure and discipline. My parents never burdened me with grown-up issues, we never went without anything, we ate supper at the table together every night, they made abundantly clear I was/am loved, and our house was the safe haven of my friends who mostly had horrible childhoods. I’m in my 30s now, and my childhood friends still call my parents mom and dad, and my grandparents Big Mama and Big Daddy. Yet, I still have depression, generalized anxiety disorder, and ADD.

“Okay, but you like *define* yourself by your mental illness. You’re not even trying to be happy!”

-Soon to be dead fuckwit

Again, you don’t speak for me. Lifelong depression, anxiety, and ADD have shaped my personality, and I own that shit. I didn’t ask for any of it, but as I’ve mentioned before, the Universe hates me, so I use it to my advantage to be a better writer. You know what writers who aren’t depressed write about? Glittery vampires, charming rapists based on the shitty writing of glittery vampire chick, and fucking chicken soup for the soul. My mental issues make me write like the bad bitch I am.

“I get it, I have OCD, which is why I’m always moving stuff at your station and throwing away food you’re still eating. I just can’t deal! I’m literally dying from your messiness!”

*Deep breaths*

Firstly, stop claiming you’re “OCD” when you’re really just anal retentive.
For people who have legitimate OCD, diagnosed by actually doctors, it’s not a convenient way to stay organized, or an interesting icebreaker, it’s hell.

For many, OCD developed as a coping mechanism in response to surviving trauma and abuse, so pardon me if I lack sympathy because you’re dissatisfied with the arrangement at MY station.
I have ADD, but you don’t see me dumping glitter everywhere because “your station is like, totally organized, and I literally can’t”.

If you do not have managerial authority, your boss is happy with your coworker’s performance, and you are in no way affected by what you perceive as inferior, shut the fuck up, grow the fuck up, and deal. Some of us have real problems and your bullshit is further stigmatizing and undermining the hardships faced by those with mental illness.

Before I go, let’s recap what we’ve learned today:

☆ Don’t be a dick.

☆ Mind your own fucking business.

☆ Don’t talk shit about people for things they can’t help.

☆ Don’t speak for others.

☆ Get over yourself.

As always, thanks for reading, and if I’ve missed anything, please add a comment 🙂

Happiness, Halloween, Prozac, ADD, NaNoWriMo, and Copious ‘F’ Bombs (Sorry, No Recipe :( )

Sorry for the hiatus, I’m having a shitty year, but that’s no excuse to keep my dear readers un-entertained, so please accept my sincerest apologies and attempts at redemption. Also, as many of y’all are aware, I have ADD, so this post is all over the place (Ooh! Look! A turtle!) Moving right along…

Firstly, here’s a picture of my People of Wal-Mart Halloween costume. You’re welcome:

FYI; I’m fat and broke, if anyone’s allowed to make fun of POWM, it’s me, so save the hate mail about “appropriating trailer park culture” and being “classist”. Don’t tell me I’m not fat either, this is a flattering photo, but trust me, I have more rolls than a bakery. You can’t even tell I have a belly ring! (not that I give a single flying furry fuck, I’m a motherfucking goddess!) Again, moving right along…

Yesterday marked the beginning of National Novel Writers Month. After much thought and consideration, I’ve decided to finish writing my current novel instead of starting a new one. I’ll post the first three pages on the next blog post, please give me brutally honest feedback! Thanks in advance. Yet again, moving right along…

The easiest way to earn yourself a swift kick in the tender vittles from me is to purport that “happiness is a choice”. If you’re one of those people who says this shit, stop. Just stop. There are so many things wrong with that statement, I’m going to break them down into list form. If you’re still confused as to why it’s an ig’nant ass thing to say, then I can’t help you. Please see a therapist (BTW, there’s a reason you’ve never heard a licensed, reputable, therapist proclaim that happiness is a choice, and it has nothing to do with “big pharma”, that’s a whole ‘notha blog post!)

1) Yes, there are people who choose to be miserable. We all know the type who looks for things to complain about. Anyone who has ever worked in retail or food service know exactly what I’m talking about, “Like, oh my God! How hard is it to give me exactly 3/4″ of foam on my non-fat latte?! And how do these losers not even know if the coffee is GMO or not?!”, but it’s not a matter of them needing to choose happiness, their problem is that they’re ungrateful, and gratitude is a choice.

2) If you honestly feel that you’re not depressed because you chose to be happy, then you were never depressed in the first place, so shut the fuck up, you don’t know what you’re talking about.

3) It’s incredibly condescending. It’s like telling a blind person that vision is a choice.

4) It’s a huge FUCK YOU IN THE ASS WITH A RUSTY STEAK KNIFE to people (like me) who need pills to function. I didn’t choose to have a chemical imbalance of the brain anymore than I chose asthma, allergies, scoliosis, or T1D (seriously, I have so many health issues, if I was a kitten, my mama would’ve eaten me). If you honestly think I don’t need Prozac (or Xanax, or any other antidepressant/mood stabilizer/anti-anxiety aid), then I challenge you to spend a week with me, alone, in a remote cabin with no phone/internet service, fully stocked with an arsenal of loaded firearms, sans pills, and teach me to be happy. Two of us will go in, one of us will come out.

5) It adds to the stigma of mental illness by implying that it’s a simple fix that depressed people are just too stupid/stubborn/lazy to do. Really, what do y’all think people like me get out of having an illness that confines me to my bed for days at a time (but getting no sleep), makes me cry for no reason (especially in public, which does not help my social anxiety one bit), and seemingly nobody takes seriously? Any time I’ve had to call in to work because I was just too sad to get out of bed and into the shower, I’d say that I had a “stomach flu” because as far as most bosses are concerned, if you don’t look sick, then you can bring your ass to work. Oh, and good luck getting a doctor’s note because it was a day where you just couldn’t function. Doctors can be the biggest dicks about mental illness. (Again, whole ‘notha post!)

6) It implies that depressed people are just seeking excuses to do nothing. The last thing depressed people need is to be made to feel guilty for not getting out of bed. That will just send us further into the blanket fort.

7) If it’s true that happiness is a choice, then there would be no psychiatric field whatsoever. There would also be no wars, no murders, no violence, and no internet trolls who will undoubtedly leave ig’nant ass comments on this post. We would all just choose happiness and move the fuck on. Life would be perfect.

And now a list of equally offensive things NOT to say to mentally ill people that should be common fucking sense:

1) “You need god/religion.” I also need a working pancreas, but I’m getting along fine without it.

2) “Did you know a handful of cashews is the equivalent of a Prozac?” No it fucking is not.

3) “Exercise cures depression!” Again, if you honestly believe this, you’ve never been depressed. Go fuck yourself.

4) “I’ll pray for you.” Yeah, let me know how that works for you.

5) “You’ll feel better if you get some fresh air!”  Bullshit.

6) “Don’t you know that antidepressants are a global government conspiracy to gain mind control?!” You need more help than I do.

7) “Lose some weight” You’re either a) a jackass in a lab coat who googles my symptoms right in front of me, or b) a troll, go groom your neck beard.

8) “Try _ herbal supplements.” Unless these “herbal supplements” are of the cannabis variety, eat shit and die, you anti-vaxxer shill.

9) “What have you tried so far?” None of your fucking business.

10) “You need to meet someone.” I have a pretty face and a nice rack, I “meet” plenty of people, but you can’t rely on someone else for happiness. If you’re depressed by yourself, you’re going to be depressed with someone too.

If I’m forgetting anything, please feel free to leave it in the comments. Thanks for reading 🙂

Fat Shaming Epidemic Part 3, “Getting To Your Happy Weight” And Why I Hate That Fucking Phrase.

Anyone who has ever flipped through a women’s magazine has seen an article about some “amazing new diet developed by ‘researchers’ at *insert Ivy League school here* that will get you to your ‘happy weight‘”.

I wasn’t aware that my weight was relative to my happiness.

When I go on motorcycle rides with my dad, I don’t look out at the scenic mountain views and think to myself  “boy, these mountains would be waaay more majestic if only I was fifty pounds lighter”.

When I’m reading to my nephews, I’m not thinking “Goodnight Moon would be much less monotonous if only I could lose weight”

I have a hard time believing that my friends and dear readers are thinking to themselves “Wow, Nikki would be an absolute riot if only she were skinny, but I just can’t laugh at a fat chick’s jokes”

In other words, weight and happiness are mutually exclusive. For example, say you’re 100 lbs overweight, and this excessive weight is causing you to experience back pain and fatigue, so you decide to lose the weight; Your back pain and fatigue may go away but if your significant other is an asshole and your kids are brats and you hate your job, you can lose all the weight in the world, but those issues will persist.

Some argue that weight loss will lead to increased self esteem.

I’m no shrink, and I have no medical training whatsoever, but from personal experience and observation, if you hate yourself fat then you’re going to hate yourself skinny too.

I’m not saying that nobody should ever try to lose weight, just do it for the right reasons, not because you think your spouse will treat you better or you’ll finally get that promotion, but because it’s something that YOU want.

And don’t get me started on all the things wrong with this cover:

Emmy Rossum - Self Magazine Cover [United States] (February 2013)

Too late, I’m started.  Bar snacks that fill you up not out? Seriously?! Who goes to a bar in search of low calorie snacks? When I go to a bar it’s because I want to get FUUUCKED up! And how in the fuck can they put in bold print “Tight abs, Lean legs, cute butt” and then at the bottom, “Own it! Body confidence! How to play up your sexiest features!”?

What they’re really saying is “How to show off your pretty face while hiding your disgusting roll-y poll-y body!”

Seriously, don’t get me started on how much fat chicks hate hearing “you have such a pretty face”! I also have a nice rack, fuckwad. A simple “you’re pretty” will suffice, because when you narrow your compliment down to the face, you’re really saying “you have a nice face despite all your fat”. But I digress, anywho,

Why are there never articles of this nature in men’s magazines? Because men are not taught that weight is relative to happiness. There may be articles on how to “get ripped” or “lose a beer gut” but men’s magazines never suggest that losing weight is the secret to happiness, just that if you want to look better, here’s how whereas in women’s magazines the message is more like “Of course you want to lose weight, you’re a woman! Duh! How will you ever find a husband with that muffin top? Here’s a starvation diet that will get you to a respectable weight and in the mean time here are some flattering clothes you need to wear so you look less disgusting!”

And when the women’s magazines got called out by some “feminazi”, someone came up with the brilliant phrase “happy weight” because “really, we care about health and being at a healthy weight makes you healthier and therefor happier!”

Well this feminazi ain’t buying that shit! Literally, I refuse to even pick up a Cosmo or Glamour because I am so sick of this shit! Especially Glamour who runs articles like this yet I have NEVER seen anyone heavier than 100lbs grace their cover without making a huge fucking deal about it. “LOOK AT US!!! ZOMG, WE PUT A FAT CHICK IN OUR MAGAZINE BECAUSE WE’RE PROGRESSIVE!!!” And of course the “fat chick” in question is like a size 12 at the most.

Seriously ladies, let’s quit comparing ourselves to models and celebrities and for the love of all things holy, quit giving the twatwaffles who print this filth our money!

If you really need your celebrity gossip fix, go to your local library, or better yet, subscribe to Ms.

WAAAAHHHH!!! But It’s Not Healthy!!! WAAAAHHHH!!!! Fat Shaming Epidemic, part 2, The Weight Police.

Sure enough, after yesterday’s blog post, some fuckstick started crying that “healthy at any size is myth!!!” while neither identifying them-self as a medical professional, nor citing any credible sources, and continued whining that my actions of standing up for myself were wrong because I’m soooo fat thus “unhealthy”.

Funny how these so-called “health advocates” AKA weight police don’t have the same outrage over tanning (proven to cause skin cancer, the number one killer of young women), smoking (proven to not only cause cancer in the smoker them-self, but to others in the vicinity), consumption of nitrates (found in many deli meats, including the “lean” varieties promoted by weight loss “experts” and proven to cause cancer),or  fasting and other extreme weight loss measures that are ineffective at best and at worst CAN FUCKING KILL YOU!

Equally funny is how these same twatwaffles are infuriated by women like Rebel Wilson or Melissa McCarthy having the audacity to appear on television while fat as these talented actresses are “setting a bad example” but don’t seem to mind the example the Kardashians or Hiltons are setting. Oh, and don’t even get me started on how this outrage is always directed at fat women, but fat men are seen as lovable, teddy-bear type characters, but I digress…

Anywho, just so we’re clear:

Obtaining fame from starring in a sex tape?  Totally cool. Great example for girls.

Appearing on television while being fat AND a woman?! Holy fucksocks!!!! The world is going to end!!! We may raise a generation of girls who don’t hate themselves! We may eradicate eating disorders! Oh, the humanity!!! What if young girls start thinking silly things like size isn’t relative to success?! *vapors*

Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against porn, I don’t subscribe to the idea that it’s “empowering” and I don’t think it’s something a young person should aspire to be, but I don’t care what consenting adults do.

My point is that the overall message young girls get from women like the Hiltons or Kardashians is “As long as I’m skinny, pretty, sexy, and not too smart and don’t talk too much or express opinions of any kind, I’ll be rich and famous! Oh, I’d better not identify as a feminist either, boys REALLY hate feminist!”. But these weight police don’t seem to mind as long as they’re at a “healthy weight”.

But can you be healthy AND fat?

My answer to that is it doesn’t fucking matter because it’s nobody’s business!

Yes, I have friends who are fat and whose health I am concerned about, but my concern is based on the fact that I love them and want them to stick around, NOT an effort to feel superior because they’re heavier than me.

They’re not stupid, they know they’re fat, they don’t need me or anyone else to point it out, some have underlying health issues causing excessive weight, some don’t, but it’s none of my business.  It’s not my place to try to shame them into eating better or exercising more, and for all I know they just may live to be 100, but in the mean time, I focus on enjoying their company and friendship.  After all, I didn’t choose them to be my friends because I approve of the way they look, I chose them to be my friends because they’re great people and we have fun together.

Also, I fucking hate exercise with a passion that cannot be described with the English language, so it’s really not my place to suggest they do something that I absolutely abhor.

The closest thing I get to exercising is when I forget to fill up in the county and have to pump my own gas. (Yep, Prince George county still has gas stations with attendants who pump your gas)

A million weight police officers heads just exploded.

“SO YOU’RE NOT EVEN TRYING TO LOSE WEIGHT?!?!?!!!!” they’re crying right now.

I’d rather die at 40 having spent my life doing whatever the fuck I want, whenever the fuck I wanted to do it, than live to 100 having spent over half my life on a fucking treadmill.

Yesterday I shared tips to help recovering fat-shamers, today I’ll be sharing tips to deal with the weight police.

It’s pretty simple really, if someone is admonishing your dietary choices, a heartfelt “go fuck yourself” should do the trick. If you want to lessen the sting, you can add a “bless your heart”.

Here are some examples:

Your co-worker comments on your “greasy” lunch, you reply with an enthusiastic “go fuck yourself”.

Your significant other asks if you really need dessert, you tell them to go fuck them-self as you’re throwing all their belongings out the window.

Your great aunt warns that your size is hindering your chances of finding a husband, you tell her to go fuck herself, and if she’s over 80, add a “bless your heart”.

If you don’t recognize yourself as the fabulous, sexy, bitch you are, then you can’t expect others to do it for you. Acceptance begins with you. You have to stick up for yourself when others are trying to expound their superior intellect regarding your dietary choices.

There are times when the only way to deal with rudeness is with a sincere, heartfelt, emphatic, “go fuck yourself”. Sorry, Daddy, but “go fiddlestick yourself” just doesn’t have the same effect. 🙂

Photo stolen from Stop Fat Phobia

The Fat Shaming Epidemic

A couple of weeks ago, popular Facebook page Veganism Is The Future posted this photo:

Any dumbfuck can see that this is obviously not always the case, so I politely commented that not everyone who follows a healthy diet can look like the model in the image above and that this is a form of fat shaming and does not help the cause.

And then the comments started pouring in from the “compassionate” vegans saying that I was promoting an unhealthy lifestyle, that I’m obviously not following a vegan diet because I’m so fat, blah blah blah.

Then the admin of the page removed my original comment and continued to chastise me for my constructive criticism saying “You’re fat and I’m not going to sugarcoat things to make you feel better, you need to lose weight, I will not condone your unhealthy lifestyle”.

Needless to say, I lost my shit.

I blew up their wall with expletives and sent carefully worded (containing no feasible threats, this ain’t my first rodeo!) , expletive laden, messages to everyone who called me fat.

While on Facebook suspension, I had time to calm the fuck down, but I didn’t. I’m still angrier than a teabagger on election day and I’m going to vent here and watch the admins of Veganism Is The Future try to censor me.

Fat shaming is more of an epidemic than obesity will ever be. Period.

People are way more offended by a fat person having the audacity to enjoy a slice of cake in public than they are by a severely under-weight person smoking to keep their weight down, even though secondhand smoke is proven harmful to ones health while there’s no such thing as secondhand calories.

Countless articles report that those with an “apple” shape as opposed to a “pear” shape are at a higher risk of everything from diabetes to growing a penis out of your forehead.

I happen to be an “apple” and guess what? I CAN’T FUCKING CHANGE MY BODY TYPE!!!!

Those with darker skin tend to have a vitamin D deficiency, but can you imagine an article advising Black people to lighten their skin so as to absorb more vitamin D going over well?

As my DXH would say, “That’ll fly over like a turd in the punch bowl”.

So why is it okay to tell people like me to “reduce your waist circumference”?!

You might as well tell me to sprout wings and fly!

 Go fuck yourselves, JAMA!!!!!

“But fat people drive up the costs of health insurance for everyone!!!” -Dumb Fuckstick Twatwaffle

Bullshit!

Most fat people I know (myself included) avoid the doctor at all costs because no matter what you’re being seen for, whether it be a sinus infection or a lost condom (don’t ask, but folks with penises, there’s no shame in buying the “snugger fit” condoms), the medical “professionals” always bring it back to your weight.

I’m no doctor, but I’m certain that my ear infection has more to do with swimming in the nasty ass James river than my extra 50ish pounds, just write me a prescription for a z-pack and shut the fuck up! I mean, I already Googled my symptoms thus doing over half your work for you! You’re just a jackass in a lab coat, get over yourself!

“No wonder the obesity epidemic is out of control, just look at all those kids at the bus stop eating chips everyday” -Well intentioned but clueless soul

Would you even notice what they were eating if they weren’t fat? What you’re really saying is fat people don’t have a right to eat junk food. For all you know, that bag of chips may be all they have to eat for the entire day. Or maybe it isn’t, maybe they’re going to eat a KFC double down for lunch and an entire pizza for supper, either way, it’s none of your business and not your place to comment.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m infuriated by parents who have the means to feed their kids healthy food but choose to feed them junk and I often argue with my brother over the lack of vegetables in my nephews diets, but many people just don’t have access to healthy food (that’s a whole ‘notha post!).

“But, but, it’s just not healthy!!! I care about you and I just want you to be healthy!!!” -yet another dumb fuckstick twatwaffle

If you’re really worried about my health then my excessive pill consumption and cutting habit should rate far above my weight. Go fuck yourself. FYI, I don’t actually have a pill or cutting problem, but people who make statements like this wouldn’t notice if I did. Some people just feel superior because they’re skinny and it really slices their taint that I don’t hate myself.

If you just read this post and recognize yourself as a fat shamer, there’s good news, fat shaming has a cure!

All you have to do is shut the fuck up!

Seriously, it’s that simple!

See a fat woman wearing a halter top and feel the need to comment on her “rack in the back”?

Just shut the fuck up!

See a woman at the beach wearing a bikini and feel the need to point out her “butt in the front”?

Shut the fuck up!

Your fat friend is ordering a vegan burrito for lunch and you want to “help” them by pointing out that the salad is a lower calorie option?

Shut the fuck up!

Your fat friend selects a horizontal striped blouse and you think a solid color would be more “flattering”?

Shut the fuck up!

You suspect that a co-worker’s back problems would disappear if they lost weight?

You guessed it, SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!

See, it’s easy! Fat shaming ends with YOU!

Oh, and one of the comments on the above graphic suggested that I must be a “real cow” as all of my FB photos were head-shots and if I have so much confidence then where were the full body photos. A little creepy that they went through all my pictures, but most of the photos of me were taken by me. I refuse to stand in front of a full length mirror and take a photo with my camera in the picture because I’m not in 8th grade, but anywho, here’s a full body photo. I’m not wearing Spanx, but I am holding my gut in a little:) Oh, and I was headed to an 80’s themed party so don’t judge the bow and shoulder pads. The pleather pants however are open to judgement.

Some call me “brave” for wearing horizontal stripes, I call it just wearing what the fuck I want.