I'm back from Vacation!

 By Anči

Hey readers, so as you may or may not know,  I "just" (as in two weeks ago) got back from a five week seaside vacation in Croatia-- which was pretty freaking awesome, for many (feminist, and non-feminist) reasons.

Between views like these:

hey its me!

Beaches like this:

and food like this:

I can't say i'm super thrilled to be back:

 Part of the reason I enjoyed my vacation so much, aside from getting to relax by the sea every day is that I made (and followed through with) my commitment to get fit (which is a challenge I plan on meeting, for the rest of my life--  along with dedicating a new section of my blog, (tentatively titled "Fitness and Feminism") to that very kick-ass process.)

Because getting healthy and fit-- is a worthy feminist goal, when at its core it about honoring your body, mind, and health.
 More than that though, real fitness (and no, I'm not taking the Shape Magazine version) also happens to be a tenet of basic self care, which comprises a whole host of healthful habits-- from beauty routines, to nutrition, to emotional well being.
And believe me when I say that five weeks on an Adriatic island proved a pretty ideal environment for soul searching, and general battery recharging. (which is where the semi-non-feminist portion of this essay comes in, because I know that not everyone has the means or privilege to go away to Europe for five weeks. So bear with me while I excitedly rave a bit.. keeping in mind that this was... ya know, first and foremost a long awaited trip home-- and not some luxury-spa-resort-type deal. [Which I could neither afford, nor care to take part in.])

So for me specifically, this vacation represented a welcome return to the basics-- healthy food, sunshine, hiking, and swimming. (the last of which, as a frosty Ohio dweller, I'll have to eventually trade in for stickier, more upsetting fare-- AKA our apartment complex gym)

Anyway, the end result proved much more powerful than the mere effects of a tan and a slimmer physique. (though I can't say I minded either of those outcomes.) Because what I ended up appreciating the most, is how fast, and agile I've become in my daily life. I can run, walk, swim, bike for long periods of time-- without losing my breath. That's a freaking amazing feeling for any able-bodied person. On top of that, roaming the hilly Dalmatian coast also afforded me much-needed bonding with the natural world - (which Dalmatia has plenty of-- from fields of lavender, to.. well just take a look)

I've also learned something about prioritizing-- which is to say that exercise is a choice I need to make every day-- even if it means, cutting into social activities, or (sob) new seasons of orange is the New Black. (Can you believe I still haven't started Season 2?) 

Anyway, now that I'm back I've channeled this renewal into daily workouts, and a new focus on self care...including making time to read, write... and occasionally apply one of those cheap charcoal face masks from the moral vacuum known as Walmart.

Which by the way, should be the takeaway here... I've been back in the states for two weeks, and I've already been to Walmart.

I know, Mindy.

*all non-moving pictures in this post belong to me.

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On body confidence

 By Anči

So I've been getting a lot of messages from friends and readers seeking advice about body image, and self-esteem... which I suspect has something to do with the dreaded advent of "Bikini Season" panic being shoved down our collective throats. (patriarchy loves coming up with new ways to shove shit down protesting feminine windpipes, eh?)

And because I'm neither famous nor unbearably in demand these days, or actually ever (though I've heard that's not something you're supposed to advertise? Oh well my wasp points were in the negatives  anyway..) I always take the time to answer each and every query...utilizing my exhaustive scope of registered empathy-for-hire, (which for a highly sensitive person like myself, tends toward the dramatic.)
Anyway... this compulsion naturally makes for an colorful communion of exchanges, with other women...which I fervently cherish, (as an introvert, inexplicably fitted with an extrovert's connective tissue. But we can analyze that anomaly some other time...)
But, because the letters I get are also very similar in theme,  I do end up repeating myself quite a bit... so I thought I'd tackle the crux of this body image issue in one sweeping, verbose motion. (with plenty of room for future follow ups in my inbox!)

So... I'm sure you've all heard the feminist saying by now, though it certainly bears worth repeating: "How do you get a bikini body? Put a bikini on your body." Succinct, and brilliant, eh?

Though yes I know, no punchy adage can undo decades of sexist conditioning, but it does make for a promising start, when the only alternative involves some degree of self-loathing.

Moreover how are self-described "bigger" women reasonably supposed to feel confident about themselves, when they're surrounded by representations of conventionally fit bodies?

First of all, take a breath, ladies. What I'm about to tell you, won't magically evaporate all your insecurities away-- but it should  give you the mindful skill-set necessary to debunk any abusive  self-talk.
So, whether or not you believe me, you.are.fucking.sexy. Yes you are. I am talking specifically to YOU right now, nobody else. (so don't over think this.) You are sexy, and it's your feminine birthright to own the crap out of that blessed certainty, with as much dissident daring as you can muster. 

I get it: it's a scary burden to shoulder-- after all, we're taught that beauty comes with a terrific responsibility to impress or 'deliver'-- but girl, you don't owe nobody shit. You don't owe anyone your time, your attention, or your respect-- just like you don't depend on anyone else's! Why? Because the miraculous fact remains that you deserve to take up space-- as much space as is required to comfortably accommodate each luxurious layer of flesh adorning your abundance.

And your abundance is damn sexy. From the alluring shimmer in your thigh which creases and crescendos every time you hop up and down, to the ripple that embraces your abdomen, with its notoriously demanding volume, every time you sit down or bend over. More than that, it's magnified by a  lover relishing in the generous expanse of your sinewy bounty, and then again by a child seeking comfort in your welcoming lap, (because nobody else's will do!) And girl, you radiate resplendence just by knowing  how freaking gorgeous you are--and not letting anyone-- anyone convince you otherwise. Because the second you give in to self-destructive habits, disordered eating, or similarly punishing behavior, your glory starts to shrink and diminish. And nobody is worth sacrificing that.

So ask me again how to reconcile the pressures of bikini season with the fickle immensity of self love. Or better yet, give yourself a giant fucking hug...
Remember, it's not for nothing you are somebody's source of comfort, and it's not for nothing that you're somebody's wild wellspring of unrestrained gropey passion. (that's the ardor your body inspires! And that's also the only narrative you should be internalizing... as long you never post any pictures. There is such a thing as too much luminosity see, and the corresponding cut-off wattage is generally heralded by the unscheduled appearance of its purveyor's pubes. ) Now.. ladies, carry that certainty with you-- store it in the softest corner of your gut-- until it unravels into a brilliant outpouring of warmth and self-acceptance.
Believe me, this will lessen the impact of the hoards of skinny bitches, paraded unceremoniously into your criminally violated consciousness... and will hopefully help ground you to a much more ancient fountain of feminine power. The first power. The one that you draw your esteem from.
Cause anything else is a manufactured mirage, cynically imbued into an elaborate reservoir of consumerist self doubt and guys? its foundation have begun to crumble.