You get boxed into this place, the more people reading and commenting on your work. You feel like you should be a role model instead of a messy, flawed person. You have to ask yourself constantly, “Am I being honest, or am I too afraid? Am I saying what I mean to say, or what I think I should say?” Is this real is this real is this real?
In my own little corner of the world of trying to be okay with bodies as an example to other people with bodies, this rings wincingly true. Everything that ever makes it hard to be cavalier and dashing about how great it is to be so fat and desirable also carries with it the additional stress of the fear that I’ll betray everyone who ever got anything out of how fine I am with all this.
It is really hard to be fine, pretty much no matter what. It’s scary to have to fake like it’s no big deal. But it’s also scary to imagine that it might get harder for someone else if you crack.
But being afraid to crack is really bad for you.
I admire a piece like this for gently showing the cracks with context, because not only is it honest but it models coping with imperfection.
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