Anxiety and swearing

This is fucking ridiculous.

Every single time I try to leave the house, I have to change fourteen fucking times. I can't wear jeans. I can't wear tight tee shirts that show off my curves. I can't wear socks most days. I end up looking super frumpy. I can't wear bras with underwire to hold up my boobs. I can't wear regular tee shirts because they're too tight. I can't look nice when I go to church. And that's bullshit.

The BRAND SPANKING NEW jeans I own don't fit right. The legs are too tight and the waist is too high. I tried them on in the store. They were awesome. Tell me, American clothing designers, in what insane world is it right for you to decide that high waist jeans are great for women with a tummy? It creates that much-avoided muffin top for any woman who is willing to squeeze into this shit. And then you give us shit for having a roll or two fall out of our jeans. What the fuck is wrong with you? Not only is the muffin top gross to look at, it's fucking painful, too. For any woman who has some left over skin from carrying a child for 40+ weeks (or any weeks, for that matter) it fucking HURTS to have a two inch band of inyeilding denim shoved into your midsection with every turn. Forget sitting down. I want jeans that sit at my hips. AT MY HIPS. With a stretchy waist band. That make my ass look amazing, thus making me feel like a million bucks. Fuck you, I'll make them myself.

Bra makers: Sister sizes are bull shit. There is more that goes into the right fit of a supportive bra than cup size and band size, too. Some women's boobs are closer together than others, this the "bridge" needs to be narrower. My breasts, in particular, carry most of their mass throughout the breast, not spread out over my chest. A large cup doesn't always mean a wide frame. Nor does FF mean that I need a size 82 band. Fuck you. I'll buy my bras from Sweden. Assholes. I've read a few studies that say I don't really NEED the support anyway.

People who see me wearing yoga pants and flip flops ANYWHERE: Accept it. Take off your jeans that give you that uncomfortable wedgie and join me in the revolution.

Teenagers gawking at me at church/beach/grocery store: Close your mouth. This body built a baby. This body can also whoop your ass and your momma's too. This body also belongs to a model and paid musician. This body is a temple to the Lord. Your comments and thoughts are synonymous with burning down a church. Get your head and heart right.

To the family members that called me fat and ugly all my life: fuck you. Just. FUCK. YOU.