“Nobody is superior, nobody is inferior, but nobody is equal either. People are simply unique, incomparable. You are you, I am I.” -Osho

I constantly have this deep seeded problem of not thinking I am in someone’s “league” or I am not their “type”. I can’t compare myself to people’s ex girlfriends or current obvious infatuations. But… she was thinner than me, bigger boobs, more covered in tattoos, shorter, less like a giant, perfect skin, more of this, less of that.

As a defense mechanism I don’t often allow myself fall for people because I know that I don’t have a “chance” and that’s so stupid. Especially if it’s someone I have known for a long time. I see their history, the people they often gravitate towards, they are nothing like me because they are unlike anyone but who they are. A lot of times people are attracted to those who share similar qualities as their selves.

I think to myself, why would she want me when her ex was so perfect? Well, she must have not been THAT perfect or they would still be together, right? You never know what kind of evil lurks inside someone who may be aesthetically good to look at.

I know that I am more than what I look like. How people are intimidated but I am timid. I am scared to open up my heart but not to take off my clothes. I will do more on the stage than I will in the bedroom due to insecurities of the flesh. I feel so awkward. I need to remind myself that everyone feels that way. Everyone is insecure, feels like they have something to cover up.

It’s also shitty for me to compare people to my exes, who are a varied group of humans. In theory I am attracted to tall men and a certain kind of woman. That is such bullshit, I’m calling myself out on it. How can I compare a man to a woman to someone who is trans or non-binary?

I would lie to say that someone’s looks do not play a part in it, but it is not everything. I love talent, people who are not afraid to let whatever their weirdness is out.

Everyone is so unique and special. I have to take the too shortness and too tallness, the too fatness and the not smart enoughness, the not right for me, not right now thoughts inside my brain and flush them down the toilet like a dead goldfish. These thoughts and insecurities are so foul and bad for the environment that they are like a toxic shock tampon clogging up the pipes.

That goldfish should have never been in a tiny bowl. It is not fair to trap beauty in a stagnant little space, on display, tap, tap, tapping on the glass. So beautiful yet so alone, knows nothing else.

“Would you rather be alone or with someone who makes you feel lonely?” – NYC Tinder Clown

Being by yourself is not lonely. I have felt alone in the arms of a lover because I cannot let go of my wall. I have felt alone in the arms of a lover because they built a wall so tall and strong that my love could not scale it. I have felt alone in the arms of a lover because there is no lover at all, never was, and I am swimming in the mote. I will not feel alone if I love the troll in the mote that is my home. I am a mud woman in search of her troll. Let’s writhe in our palace of filth!

My friend reminded me that people often overlook the things you think are a big deal. The hot cook where she works bent down and she was checking out his ass, his shirt came up in the back revealing a red patch of psoriasis, she noticed it but it did not make him any less appealing to her.

It’s like during a show when you think you fucked up a big move or moment, then everyone cheers anyways. They had no idea what your expectations of that performance were. You are the only one who knows anything was wrong.

All of the things you think are wrong about yourself are not a big deal to anybody else. Never compare yourself to what society wants you to look like. Even those perfect models are not happy in their skin.


Why do people seek out clones of themselves to date? Like it could only make sense if we “match”. I have been on dating sites nearly as long as I have been dating, what the fuck does that say?

As soon as the almighty internet came into place people started using it to have sex and find sexy things to look at. I wish to exist in a time without all of that, where people just meet and hang out and discover their attraction in person. It’s always so exciting and unexpected when you find yourself crushing on someone.

There is no guess in online dating. If the person is being honest, they have already told you their life story and ambitions and been put through a computer program with you to determine compatibility.

I have had my OK cupid profile for like eight years or something like that. My photos were all old, it hadn’t been updated, it still said “omnivore” and I am vegan. That is a big life change that the computer did not know about me.

It is interesting to see the things that haven’t changed. I still don’t want kids. I still have cats and like dogs. I am not still “bi-sexual” though, because I now realize that I never was, I am pansexual because I do not believe in the gender binary. Gender is fluid. Pansexual was not an option when I first set up the account and now it is. That’s an improvement, but still another sign of inaccuracy.

I still just take that experience as a realization that people are ever evolving. An online profile may have sort of represented that person in the moment that they made it, but things change. Minds change every moment. You have to chose to live in the now and realize when you have made a mistake.

No matter how sexy someone is, no matter how “great” their ass is, shit still comes out of it. Humans are all gross and weird, we all have pasts, we all have done things that we are ashamed of, we have all hurt and been hurt by others.

To compare my struggle to someone else’s doesn’t make sense, so why do I do it with my body? I am always so self conscious of my skin. I have psoriasis over most of my body. But its not really ruining my life, is it?

I still get paid to take my clothes off, I just don’t get down to bare skin. I keep my scaly legs and ass covered in fishnets. I get scared thinking that I will end up in bed with someone then in the morning they will see what the fishnets and ambient lighting have been hiding this whole time.

It’s true that you can’t compare humans, but the loves of my life currently are about 10 pounds and covered in fur. Cats > Humans. Nobody will love and cuddle me like my kitty babies. I need to just enjoy that, relish in the small things that are actually huge.

There is a blizzard of emotions within me. I am clouded by my own awareness. Not everything is about sex, but isn’t it natural to want sex? We all want to feel loved and desirable.

I am not an expert on anything, especially dating. I am experienced in heartbreak and general confusion. I have been broken up with, cheated on, made to feel less than I should.

I have felt alone in the arms of my “lover” because I knew they were waiting around for something better. Better is not thinner or less covered in scales, better is me loving myself more and realizing that all humans are flawed and perfect in their own right.

I was sitting in the local dive bar with a beautiful female friend of mine who happens to be transgender. As we were sitting there discussing lipstick shades, makeovers, and other various girlie things the conversation took a drastic change when I heard an employee of the bar say “No men in the women’s bathroom.”

Instantly we both perked up to make sure some horrible injustice wasn’t happening. We were about to jump into action like wonder women to make sure that another trans woman wasn’t being discriminated against. It is monumentally important to have each other’s back. I stand in solidarity with my trans brothers and sisters.

Thankfully the bouncer was escorting out an obviously cis gender male identifying bearded man from the ladies room, who was most likely accompanying his lady to do some drugs or something of that nature. Ok, he had no business being in there, crisis averted. This time…

This opened up a greater conversation of what transgender people have to go through on a day to day basis. She is a woman using the restroom and has to deal with people constantly questioning her, “Why do I hear a man’s voice in the women’s room?” Wait until you see the person who spoke to make that judgement.


All women are real! There is no cookie cutter for a what a woman should look or sound like, we are all different and beautiful. Don’t be ashamed of your broad shoulders or the fact that you tower over other girls when you wear heels. You are perfect, a real woman in a very imperfect world that doesn’t know how to handle you. I am proud of my trans brothers and sisters, standing up for their sanity and being their true selves regardless of what society thinks.

Bathrooms are just the tip of the iceberg for issues that the trans community has to deal with. Perhaps one of the worst feelings in the world, yes, as horrific as being a female born into the wrong body, is being fetishized.

So many of my friends blur and defy gender barriers, they are warriors, the strong few who know what they need to do to become whole and satisfied. It is a long journey, with enough roadblocks that the douchbaggery and objectification is beyond unnecessary.

There is nothing worse than being treated like a “thing” rather than a fucking human being. The definition of fetish is an inanimate object that is worshipped, a sexual fetish is a form of desire in which gratification is linked to an abnormal degree to a particular object, item of clothing, part of the body, etc. Fixation, obsession, compulsion, and mania are synonyms.

Anything can be a fetish. Some common fetishes involve leather clothing, parts of the body such as feet, body modifications, food consumption, costumes, and what I am talking about today: body types.

Similar parallels exist between fat women and trans women, we have more in common than our trouble with shopping for clothes that fit and don’t look frumpy. Try finding a sexy shoe bigger than a women’s size 10, I dare you.

I am in no way saying our experiences are the same, I will never know what it is like to be transgender, or how difficult of an experience that is. What I do know is how it feels to be treated like an object and not a human being.

While many times both trans women and obese women are treated as non-sexual due to our stray from body image normativity, there is also a group of people that desire us only for our “deviations” and not for who we are.

I am a big woman, I love my body and I really don’t care what people think of me. I get judged by other women and men all the time for showing off my body, “She’s too fat to be naked on stage! how gross!” I have also had men interested in me only because of my body type, they never cared about me, just the size of me.


I am more than my body. I am a fully rounded human with emotions and deserve to be recognized as such. I remember the same boys in school picking on me and then trying to kiss me when nobody was looking. Girls need to learn that it is not right for boys to be mean to them when they have a crush, it’s twisted.

A lot of times the fetishist hides their desires, keeping the object of their attraction as a deep dark secret. They maintain “normal” relationships in the hopes that their fantasies subside, and when they do not they seek some down low loving from the fetish of their choice, often leading double lives.

This is a big problem with the world we live in. People are raised to think that being attracted to a fat person or transgender person is a deviant behavior, something that they should be ashamed of and hide. It’s total bullshit. All of us want the same thing, to be loved, to feel beautiful, wanted, adored. Nobody wants to be a dirty little secret, shoved back into the closet.


Trans women are so brave. Enduring a life of struggle to be their true self. They have gotten this far, found the strength to make positive changes in order to feel comfortable in their body, and as soon as you turn them into a dirty little secret sex object you take away all of that progress.

By shoving someone back into the closet you make them feel inhuman. I’ve spent a lot of time being a dirty little secret, too.

Nobody would proudly date a fat woman. You will never find a man with a body like that! BULLSHIT. I know that I am worthwhile, I know that my large body is beautiful, so is your small body, your trans body, your medium body, your cis gendered body, your female body, your male body, your brown body, your white body, your young body, your old body, YOUR UNIQUE BODY.

Demolish unrealistic archetypes. All bodies deserve proper credit, nobody should ever be treated as subhuman for someone else’s twisted pleasure. Celebrate your uniqueness, respect yourself, you are a lovely and imperfect creature, just like everyone else.

I often feel like the creepy guy in the corner jerking off.

How did I get here? (This is not my beautiful wife, this is not my beautiful house…) Do they notice I am here? I feel different, and that sometimes socially isolates me. I oogle at the other burlesque dancers. Beauties, pure delight, smooth skin, perfect shapes and proportion. The best asses in town topped with the sweetest personalities around. They are all anybody’s definition of physical perfection. I’d eat from their shoes.

wayne and garth

I constantly feel the need to yell “I AM NOT WORTHY!” like Wayne and Garth at the feet of rockstars. In awe of my surroundings.  My life is truly blessed.


dominatrix burlesque

Look deeper, listen to them talk and laugh, spill about their own insecurities and bullshit. These people that I idolize, hold with such a high standard, are at the end of the day just normal people who poop and bleed, putting their tassels on one at a time like everyone else.

We are all humans: “beautiful” and “ugly” are relative, we all see a different monster when we look in the mirror. Everyone is so preoccupied with their own flaws that they cease to even notice yours. That is why caring about what others think of you is really stupid, we need to take care of ourselves and not give in.

sexy freaks

Wish I was faster and less depressed by others’ happiness. I am a lump covered in strange skin lesions, I am fat, I am smelly, I have hairy armpits, and an inch of roots on my bleached out hair. I am nothing like these visions of glory, I am a slob, a festering pile of yuck.


trollKnow that because we are not perfect we inspire others who are not perfect to love themselves too. It is a responsibility to show the world that no matter what you look like you have the right to be accepted and celebrated.

You too can lead a glorious existence! I remember once saying “I am a troll” out loud, and I was literally dressing up like a goon. Dumb. Why do I even care about what society likes? Life is a freakshow attraction. People like me regardless of how well I play by the rules, the art outside the lines is impactful.

Fun fact, did you know there is a thing called soaking? It is when you insert the penis into the vagina and just let it chill. It hangs out until it cums, no thrusting necessary.

That sounds pointless. Literally just getting your dick wet doesn’t sound remotely enjoyable. Its like what happens when a gay man and a lesbian try to make a baby, are we there yet? I told you we should have used a turkey baster.

I always thought it would be funny to have like 10 butch lesbians with turkey basters full of jizz squirting them all on one guy, lesbukkake anyone? Let’s turn those tables. Break down hetero-normativity in every single way. I am a squirter, so it definitely feels powerful to get to jizz on someone, I get it.

I am going to be thirty this year, dirty thirty, that means my egg timer is almost up and I should be looking for a good god fearing white man of similar or hopefully higher socioeconomic status to make mutant republican babies with and move to the suburbs where my dreams can rot in a three bedroom ranch.

I want to spend my dirty thirty with thirty of my most down ass friends covered in shit. Literal feces. It will be the dirtiest party of them all. I am already borderline incontinent, last night I drunkenly peed on my feet while trying to relieve myself in an ally.

I held a frozen burrito under my arm, being denied bathroom access at the store I took it upon myself to wash their sidewalk with a flood of golden glory. Never going to top drunkenly peeing on church steps and not getting laid because I totally didn’t wipe though. That takes the cake. Chocolate cake brown like the shit stains in my Zubaz.

animal house

I am a creep, watching women undress in front of me, feeling like I shouldn’t be allowed there. That’s how I feel when people show me affection, I can’t believe this vision of loveliness wants ME?! You sure you got the right guy?

I watch from a distance while other people get off. I have sat in my car and watched people fuck with an open window. I once sat on a roof overlooking an office building and watched a guy jerk off at 2am. Photos of his family were hung on the walls. I still wonder what kind of kinky shit he was watching. I’m sure it was the gayest scat fisting gang bang porn imaginable.


Peeping Toms and shower windows make a great pair. I was recently sitting on my friend’s porch, drinking beers, smoking some jazz cigarettes, shooting the shit, sun setting, ya know stoop life at its finest. And all of a sudden I look up and notice a frosted window on the second floor of the house next to us with a light on.

Suddenly one shadow appears, then a second. It is easy to decipher that this is a shower, they each wash off, and easier to notice that the couple started to have sex. You could see the outline of her breasts and ass, I could not see his boner shadow though, bummer. Sexy silhouette sex right in front of my peeping eyes, we were all wide eyed.

The slap heard around the world made me think they knew we were watching, if we can hear them they can also hear us. It was a short fuck, it seemed fake, like in Austin Powers when he was making shadow scenes look dirty. I kept feeling like I was going to get Punk’d.

I like this channel.

I have recently lost some weight, I do not know how much because I have vowed to not step on a scale ever again. Everyone has a comment.

Other things I vowed to never do again are eat meat, shave my legs or pits, or wear a bra daily. None of these things are for you, world. They are my idea of smashing down an unnecessary wall of femininity and unhealthy life choices. Stepping on a scale means I am measuring my loveliness with a number, the bigger the number, the less I am as a person. Our bodies are marginalized to fit unrealistic goals.

fat girlI remember being called obese by a school nurse and laughed at by my peers, I was called Fat Cat for years. At one point I was way over 300 pounds (and still got laid ps). The clothes I wore then now sag and fall off of me, that is how I measure my losses.

I feel sexy at any weight. Layers peeled off reveal a fresh new me, ready as ever to take on the world, and facing the same problems. I want protect my heart. I deserve to be loved in the wide open, for the world to see, be proud of me, love who you see.

Oh, now I’m good enough for you? I meet your standards of beauty? I don’t want to be your fetish or the extra in an experimentation. I must be the main act. If I am not good enough to be your star always, then you are not good enough for me.

By no means am I considered skinny or even fit (I was once called fit by a sexy British man and almost laughed). My body is still quite lush and jiggly. I am a proud plus size woman, it’s just that I am a tiny bit smaller now.

high schoolI can fit into my high school dance dresses, and that feels damn good. I haven’t squeezed into a size 16 in a long time. I did it for me, because I wanted to, not in any way to prove myself or improve myself for general consumption.

Several people have said things like “Damn, you are actually hot now!” or “Now, I am attracted to you!” or my favorite “Wow don’t take this as a dis, but you look good now!”

By saying now you are definitely implying that this sexiness is a newfound thing that I did not possess in the past. I am literally the same person. How does a few pounds of fat make me any less? I actually find the chubbier version of myself drop dead gorgeous.

FUCK YOU, I’VE ALWAYS LOOKED GOOD ASSHOLE! I don’t need your approval to feel good about myself. I appreciate that you are trying to compliment me, but those kind of twisted back handed misogynist compliments can drive someone crazy.

vintage adAs females we are pressured to fit into the perfect mold of femininity. Oh woe is little ol’ me, exposed for all the world to see, standing strong for the rest of us.

I have had several friends who have gone through Gastric Bypass and the Lapband surgery with various degrees of success. I think it is crazy to get a life threatening surgery for the name of beauty. These people are doing it for health reasons, they cannot stand to be smothered by their own body weight anymore.

I have mixed emotions about these surgeries, while I think they are important and do have success rates, I also think its important that the psychological side is taken care of too. Many gain it right back. They may not be ready for the newfound attention, sexual and otherwise, due to their smaller “more attractive” body. They are still dealing with all the years of torture that got them to that point, and now also flaps of sagging skin, tits like deflated balloons.

There is so much more to think about than the need to be skinny because society wants you to be normal. Normal bodies are all bodies, there is no cookie cutter perfect. Skinny, fat, and in between are all sexy. Big, little, short, tall, yep all unique and glorious.


I haven’t lost that much weight and I didn’t do it to meet your expectation of what a female should look like. I stopped eating meat because I don’t want to participate in the inhumane cruelty of the meat industry. I stopped drinking so much alcohol because it causes health issues like liver damage, diabetes, and dementia. I started riding my trike everywhere because I want to lessen my impact on pollution and promote green transportation and community exploration.

Diet and exercise are key to having a healthy body. I want to be healthy so I can live a long prosperous life and not to be some vision for your consumption.

I know some people are just trying to be nice. I am not on The Biggest Loser, I am a winner god dammit, treat me with respect. Just please, think about the words you are saying before you absent mindedly disrespect someone.

Weight comments are never a good idea. Eating disorders and body dismorphia kill. Love all bodies so they can live.

“Hey when are you due?”is in the same relm as “Wow you look great after you lost all of that weight (and not a second before, fatty!)”. Just a simple “Wow, you are beautiful!” is perfect, and should be said to every person you meet.

We are all beautiful, no matter what our size. We need to love who we are and strive to be healthy and happy in our lovely perfectly imperfect bodies.

I was once told that I did not give adequate blow jobs. This infuriated me, just the fact that I am putting your dirty little pee hole in my mouth at all should be enough right? He then proceeded to show me some porn videos that he liked as tips. I remember studying the technique, how they ran their fingers down the shaft, keeping pressure on the base, not just focusing on one part but all of it. All of these movies have the same ending, a girl covered in mangasm. Gross.

My blow job skills are subjective, another dude I hooked up with told me I was the best he ever had (but maybe he tells that to everyone) and he still fantasizes about me. The best art is getting it over my pretty-little-innocent-porcelin- face. Right? Thats like the goal isn’t it? Gross!

People get really turned on by my phone sex operator voice and lush red laquored mouth. Im not always total freak in bed, she exists only lost in a fleeting moment or lost in love. Let go and be crazy. I don’t know if I have ever really had an orgasm or been in love. Or if I had then it didn’t change my life like a fairytale.

The way people write about and describe orgasms and love I would think that you would know if you had it. I just don’t. I have such high expectations for things that sometimes its impossible for all of them to come true.

It’s the same with my shows and art, but with those things it is almost easier because it is so on a stage and public. I can have flaws and they are celebrated. People enjoy the fact that I am funny and imperfect, they can relate to me. Fake it till you make it.

I can never complain about lack of sex l, I know I can get it whenever I want, its just a matter of wanting. I yearn for substance, not talking money or stuff, but compatibility in ways that nobody else understands.

My problem with relationships is that I always move too fast, and I am not immediately good at things. I need to practice being with this person, learn what they like, what makes them purr. That can’t happen in one night.

It is possible to have instant attraction, electric turn on lust rush. That’s what songs are written about, but every time that has happened to me it was fueled by an alcohol/ drug/ vacation induced confidence.

I was the most charming woman ever. They didn’t see my flaws yet, they saw what I wanted to show them, they never knew about my dandruff or wonky toenails. I know what to cover up and what to expose to make me seem perfect and sexy.
starfish sex

Am I a starfish? Do I just sit there and let them take me? I don’t think so… I enjoy switching it up. I wonder when people decide not to become repeat offenders? Now unfuckable?

I wish the end of every relationship or even one night stand could have a proper autopsy. I would like to learn about what went so wrong and know how to get better. Having bad sex is the absolute worst, you should never be sitting there waiting for it to end, that means you are doing it wrong.

I need to feel invited to join in. I was recently in a situation where three people started having sex in the same bed as me. For some reason I did not really participate, I didn’t leave either. I just watched, front row seat. Studied the way they touched each other, listened to the noises, basically being a real creep.

For some reason I just didn’t feel compelled to join in, they were all incredibly attractive humans doing hot stuff to each other, it was like live action porn, what is wrong with me? I am thrust into opportunities that I need to grab on to. I needed to just lick some nipples, kiss some lips, and caress.

I think about the moments that I let pass by. Moments where I wanted someone but didn’t tell them. Fear kept me planted. It rooted me as a bystander in my own reality. I wonder if it’s a defense mechanism. I suck at making the move and therefore should not go after people who are just like me.

It doesn’t make sense to me when I find someone who is perfect, really gets me and makes me laugh. This person keeps on living, going on just fine without me there, eating, pooping, and creating art with someone else.

Everyone I have thought I loved thus far has been or become unrequited. What does she have that I don’t? Is her pussy tighter, skin softer, sounds sexier? Do you tie her up? Does she peg? Do her nipples squirt whiskey? I don’t get it.

I am the most amazing woman that nobody wants. I wish I could be more open about getting what I desire in this world. The problem is that I need to explore myself to find out what I like and don’t like. Being lousy at sex is due to poor communication and lack of confidence.

berriesJust because I didn’t end up being what all my ex lovers want doesn’t mean I am at all undesirable to someone I haven’t even met yet. Sex is more than just mating or getting off, its emotional, all encompassing. I have been with people who were ravenous for my body. Throw me up against the wall or down on the bed, then to the curb.

I don’t ever want to be owned.  Life is beautiful. I am sick of wasting time wanting the unattainable. I want to be able to love someone and be confident in that but still have freedom to access the world’s fruit. Who cares if I suck at sex? Practice makes perfect right.


Leonard Nimoy lived long and certainly prospered. I was very sad to hear that on February 27th this legendary man passed away at the age of 83. He was more than just a nerd culture icon as the half Vulcan half human Spock on Star Trek.

spockHe first appeared on screen in 1951 and began an illustrious career in acting while working for wage equality behind the scenes. He always cared about people. This is evident in a very touching letter in a 1968 teen magazine responding to a girl from biracial parents who identified with Spock, saying “Not everyone will be like me but there will be those who will accept me just for who I am.”

Nimoy was a true Renaissance man: actor, poet, writer, musician, director, activist, feminist, photographer, and genuine friend to all. He boldly went where no photographers have gone before. In his controversial 2007 series The Full Body Project, Mr. Nimoy gave an honest depiction of real women and challenged societal standards of beauty.

He photographed The Fat Bottom Review, a buxom burlesque troupe hailing from San Francisco, California. In these images he imitates the poses of Henri Matisse and Marcel Duchamp while capturing pure joy and unabashed confidence, a ferocity that is purely female, and an “I don’t give a fuck what you think of me world, I love my body!” attitude.

Leonard Nimoy was disgusted at the sad fact that many women and girls suffer because the body they live in is not the one advertised in fashion magazines. Pop culture is distorted and mean. These women are proud of their skin and look the camera right in the face. They are more than just fat and flesh, they are visions of loveliness, joyously celebrating diversity and the art of sensual movement through dance.

He even spoke of this project on the widely popular Colbert Report. This was huge! He allowed Steven Colbert to geek out about Star Trek only with the condition that he could talk about his photos. Nimoy mentioned in the interview (sadly you can only watch it in the US, ComedyNetwork.ca doesn’t have the clip anymore) that the average woman weighs 25% more than what you see in magazines. By opening this door with his photos and words he facilitated an important (yet taboo) conversation about size in the media and how it affects our youth.

full body project
The Full Body Project by Leonard Nimoy courtesy of R. Michelson Galleries. See the whole set and buy the book!


These photos changed my life and paved the way for a new generation of women who are celebrating every curve of their unique beauty. Now we have models like Tess Holliday, size 22, tattooed, and very reminiscent of The Fat Bottom Revue girls.

She has started a sensation with “Eff Your Beauty Standards” and inspires me like crazy. She just recently signed a major contract with MILK Model Management UK and is championing Torrid’s no photoshop campaign. Even the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition is featuring slightly more curvaceous women than before. Mainstream culture is being taken back by real beauty, oh you’ll see. Every body is lovely, doesn’t matter if you are a size 0 or a size 30 (or all that’s in between).

When a large woman is on stage or in an ad it is most definitely a political statement, it is also a reassurance that it’s ok to be who you are. Even the burlesque community is not safe from fat shaming. Recently Ruby Rage was fired from Lucky Pierre’s in New Orleans for not fitting the correct body type for their show.

This outraged every burlesque dancer who heard the news, especially the world renowned plus size dancer Dirty Martini. Burlesque is about celebrating every shape, size, age, and color of bodies. It is about confidence and exploration, an undeniable fearlessness and freedom, connecting to your audience because you ARE them. Showing off your “flaws” make their “flaws” ok because you are together in being imperfect perfection.

The moment I found out about Nimoy’s death my first thought was to share some of these images on my personal Facebook page (with a “friends only” filter just in case) since the images had such an impact on me. Now if you know me you know that I am not scared of nudity, despise censorship.

To my dismay this post was flagged and taken off my wall, I was pissed to say the least! I couldn’t believe that someone who calls me a friend would report that. Recent sharing of The Full Body Project photos has caused a stir across the whole internet, some of my friends have also been flagged and there are reports from someone in Toronto having the same problem.

Thinking about this now I am almost happy that someone got that upset, these flagger trolls are just insecure and don’t want to see someone they think is abject in the lime light. We got um Len! The conversation is on the table. Kim Kardashian move over, it’s time for The Full Body Project to break the Internet.

I started doing burlesque shortly after coming across these stunning images, knowing these women existed and flourished in a world that always told me I was too big was a game changer for me. I knew I could do it too and inspire change in others with this classic art form. After seeing these beautiful, large nude bodies I was confident enough to pose naked for figure drawing classes and then beyond.

I was once so self conscious that I wouldn’t even go swimming in gym class out of fear that someone would see my body. I am going to be posing for my own black and white artistic nudes soon, everything goes full circle. I am a stronger person and better artist because of the legacy of Leonard Nimoy’s work.

Thank you, friend, rest in peace.

You will never find a man! NEVER! Ever. Nope. Not if you don’t put down that fucking Snickers bar. Shopping in the husky section of the store while other children are starving all around the world. Eating thousand plus calorie Happy Meals and whole cans of cherry pie filling in the closet, with only my Barbie dolls to judge me. They were my role models. Where were my jelly roll models? My Barbies were all skinny whores with unreasonable breasts having plastic crotch orgies with the Ken doll, Jordan McKnight (complete with a rat tail) doll, and each other.

cat bi2

Fat Cat. I have been fat my entire life, considered morbidly obese at a young age, but I have never had trouble finding a man, or whatever I was looking for. I remember getting my first phone number at 11 years old (I was big for my age), it was written on a sugar packet. I never could make out the number, but the name scribbled on it was Chester and he looked at least 13. I have always been whistled at in the street, as well as heckled by people in cars passing by – “FREAK” and “JENNY CRAIG” were some of my favorites – so it evens out. In fact I probably have more luck in the relationship department than most skinny girls I know.

Now my most meaningful experiences with romance involve eating food and cooking with someone. Good cooking is the key to someone’s heart. Anytime I am held back or denied it is not because of my size, but it is because of my timidness, lack of communication, or pure incapability with the other person. People of all shapes and sizes have insecurity and doubt; it is the human condition. People always want to be what they aren’t. A lot of people are not thin by choice. It can be health conditions, and it is not fair to say that all thin people are happy, just in the same way it isn’t fair to say all fat people hate their bodies. Size 0 is just as hard to find as a size 20.

Being fat is not the only thing that people feel bad about. It’s body image in a whole that is the problem. Celebration of body diversity needs to start trending. Fat shaming and unrealistic body goals are VERY present in our society, but also getting a little better. For instance the fashion industry is starting to show more than just thin models on the runway. Crystal Renn is someone who stood out to me at the Jean Paul Gaultier show several years ago. She was a plus size model for Torrid years ago, when I worked there. Plus size modeling still has a looooong way to go, often models are padded to create fuller figures, and that just pisses me off.

I loved working for a plus size store geared toward current trends for young women. I was literally helping girls feel beautiful that had never felt so in their entire lives. This is the prime time of your life to develop your sexual identity, not be down on yourself and de-sexualized. I was just like them, told that I was never ever going to find a man or be good enough because of my size. Fashion can be so empowering. A well fitting dress and the perfect accessory (a smile) is a game changer. As a young, fat girl I hated shopping. After Torrid, I became obsessed. Now I consider myself as someone who takes fashion to new levels.

cat bi1

I am a burlesque performer, getting undressed for an audience is my game. However on several occasions I have taken to the runway and walked as a model for the wearable art portion of a large scale fashion show called Mass Appeal in Buffalo NY. It was exhilarating to walk in front of that many people wearing a corset made of Pabst Blue Ribbon cans or Pizza Crust. In those occasions I was the only large model. For the pizza dress, a project called “Upper Crust Punk,” artist Melissa Campbell and I created a corset out of actual pizza crust. I was eating pizza while walking down the runway, people were shocked and freaked out. It was the craziest roar I had ever heard in my entire life, I felt like I had scored the big touchdown at a football game. I was featured on The Beckerman blog’s Instagram (lil fashionista blonde twins from Toronto with a pretty serious following) and in a comment someone had mentioned I was the biggest model they had ever seen. This seeming insult turned into a slew of compliments and positive reactions. For every hater there will always be celebrators.

Back stage after the show I had to pee really bad. I tore the pizza crust dress off of my body and ran greased and mostly naked through a sea of teeny tiny models. They all looked so jealous and hungry. They were hungry for more than just pizza, they yearned to have my confidence. They wanted to not give a fuck. I think that these girls feel responsible to be “beautiful” and perfect. It must be exhausting to care that much. I am freed by my imperfections. My body is unique. It is squishy. It is delightful. I am the Venus of Willendorf. I am strong. As my grandmother would say I have good birthing hips. I am healthy. I am thankful for the gifts that I have been given. As Meghan Trainor would say “Don’t worry about your size, boys like a little more booty to hold at night.”

I was wasting time on facebook the other day when I came across a post one of my friends had commented on. It was a picture of three women of different proportions, all attractive, all Caucasian, each with a number Photoshopped onto her body. The question the poster, Atomik Nutrition St-Eustache, asked was which body type people preferred.

This shit makes me angry. I mean really, can we not get past the idea that there is somehow one kind of body type that is superior to others? Do most of the other grown ups out there not know that THERE ARE SO MANY MORE THAN JUST THREE BODY TYPES? Like, as many as there are people. Or how about the fact that a person’s beauty is a result of their whole self, not just their outsides? That love and attraction are much more complicated than the shape of your partner’s meat shell?


In their last edition, Men’s Health published an atrocious article titled 11 Qualities of the Perfect Woman. Apparently she’s white, has brown hair, tiny feet, huge tits and laughs at all your jokes. Big fucking surprise. The article was widely, and rightfully, criticized by anyone with an ounce of sense because it was stupid and everyone knows there’s no perfect formula for attraction.

The thing that really fucks me up though, is that people seem to find it completely acceptable to continue to publish this shit. That article, and the fb post I came across, are just tiny drops in an ocean of media that is constantly trying to make women feel like less and that assumes that men are less as well. What do I mean by less? Less beautiful, less worthy, less complex, less valuable, less intelligent. Number one is too skinny, number three is too fat, brown is better than blonde, white is better than brown, dainty is better than strong, strong is better than dainty, be this way, no wait, be that way. I mean seriously, fuck off already!

You know what’s important? Generosity, passion, compassion and love. Those are the things that will make you happy, and therefore beautiful. End of story.

And you know what else? It doesn’t matter if you’re a one or a five or an 8.12. It doesn’t matter if you have tits and a dick or skinny thighs or broad shoulders or purple hair or whatever. You, just as you are right this very moment, are somebody’s idea of perfect.

Now get out there and strut your stuff you sexy fuckers!